Bada bing ...

Thanks for Nothing, Bitches

Thanks for Nothing, Bitches by Kathy Shaidle “ If asked to choose a “favorite” picket sign from the oh-so-many left littering the scene, I’d have to go with the unfathomable “Make Them Pay for Razors if We Pay for Tampons.” (A close second? This guy’s ”Don’t Grab Women by the Pussy—That’s Where Babies Come From!” is currently tied with “Cinnamon Rolls Not Gender Roles,” but I’m open to suggestions (with hyperlinks) for runners-up in the comments. Prizewinning reaction from our side? No contest—the ubiquitous: Trump got more fat women to walk today than Michelle Obama did in eight years. Women rarely fail to let me down. There’s a Roz Chast cartoon showing one lady shouting at another: “The price of Kleenex WAS SO 47 cents in 1963!” That sentence approximates roughly 86% of the “conversations” I’ve had with (or overheard being conducted by) other females over the span of my 52 years. Now they’ve gone and done it again. Here I thought my column would write itself this week: A bunch of dumb broads were plotting an anti-Trump demo in Washington that, like all the other “Million Something Marches,” would surely wind up being just a handful of jerks standing around stupidly screaming for a few hours. And then I’d make fun of them (and their unfunny, semiotically askew, pink knitted “pussy hats”) for 800 words. (Seriously, what do those hats mean? “I dare Trump to ‘grab’ the fuchsia, cat-eared wool vagina on my head”?) Well, thanks for (almost) nothing, bitches. Because startlingly (especially considering the pre-march “intersectional feminist catfighting” reported by our own Jim Goad), a few hundred thousand protesters really, truly turned up for the #WomensMarch in D.C., and at “sister” rallies across the apparently suckier parts of the planet. How? Everyone knows that most women are generally lackadaisical and incompetent. (As blogger Kate McMillan likes to say, “If women ran the world, we’d still be living in caves—but with really, really fancy curtains.”) “I had to pivot from gloating about puny attendance to collecting evidence of the marchers’ idiocy.” Then I realized: One thing women are good at is organizing get-togethers with other women. Every cubicle job I’ve ever had consisted of almost daily bridal and baby and birthday parties, and the all-important “going for lunch,” occasionally punctuated by work. Damn. (continue) Delicious.

Frank ... pick up ...

Hey There!

THAI-OSHA?

I found the original of this Thai (not China) road project HERE, and — you know.

And damned proud of it

COSMIC

UNT! UNT! UNT!

a major award

UNT Mug When I was a kid a big joke was the Sam Houston Institute of Technology, or S.H.I.T.  Hardee-Har-Har.  The problem was, sigh, there is no such school,  so when cuzzin ricky ("... would make a great mug for the Clinton campaign!") sent me this UNT mug I figgered it was more bogus acronym.  But no!  There is a UNT! Just off the top of my head I can think of several people I'd like to send this mug to ( Around $14 at Amazon).

Decomposing

The BEET GOES ON ..? A tourist in Vienna is going through a graveyard and all of a sudden he hears music.  Could it be Andre Rieu, he thinks to himself? He looks around but no one can be seen, so he starts searching for the source. He finally locates the origin and finds it is coming from a grave with a headstone that reads:  "Ludwig van Beethoven, 1770- 1827." Then he realizes that the music is Beethoven's Ninth Symphony and it is being played backward! Puzzled, he leaves the graveyard and persuades a friend to return with him. By the time they arrive back at the grave, the music has changed. This time it is the Seventh Symphony, but like the previous piece, it is being played backwards. Curious, the men agree to consult a music scholar. When they return with the expert, the Fifth Symphony is playing, again backwards. The expert notices that the symphonies are being played in the reverse order in which they were composed, the 9th, then the 7th,  then the 5th. By the next day the word has spread, and a crowd has gathered around the grave. They are all listening to the Second Symphony being played backward. Just then the graveyard's caretaker ambles up to the group. Someone in the group asks him if he has an explanation for the music. "I would have thought it was obvious,"  the caretaker says: "He's decomposing." Rick Michaelson

They can too jump .. barely

NBA Developmental League Prospects cuzzin "can't dunk" ricky

Bags with tags

TEA PARTY We've all been there

Dear Deidre

No Good Deed Goes ....

Putincize Now!

Oh My

Metzger

One Job Only, and What?

You had just ONE job. One!    cuzzin ricky

Farts on Ice

Oh My

T. Smith

Boola Boola

“ We'll roll the score so very high, That you will hear them sigh: Well-a Boola, Boo, Boola, Boola, Boo, Boola, Boo, Boola, Boola, Boola, Boo!   After graduating from Yale (Summa Bin Lauday) in Political Philosophy on Wednesday, I happenstanced  into Professor Craig Wright's course "MUSI 112: Listening to Music."  ....you will become the purveyors of classical music thereafter. You, the intelligentsia of the next generation, will be those that preserve this great treasure of Western culture and it is a great treasure of Western culture.-Professor Craig Wright Just finished my fourth class.  I know for sure that if I was actually sitting in that classroom,  I'd flunk.  Badly. And, given what I perceive to be Prof. Wright's low tolerance for slackers and low lifers, I would probably be caned as well.  So what a joy not having to worry about the minutia; learning what this stuff (♩,♪, and  ♬) does, and just letting things seep in as they will.  Don't get me wrong, I can read music.   Guitar music, and now I'm reading  harmonica.  Your experience may differ of course, but I'm happy being exposed to all this stuff,  with the other Yale intelligentsia.  By the by, that instruction about Yale students being the new intelligentsia has been uttered in more than a few of the Yale lectures I've sat in on.  I mention it only in passing, meaning I don't find it at all "elitist" in the elitist way to remind these kids that they're special, because they are.  Their parents can afford to pay $58,600/ year to send them there, and are likely themselves to have a similar educational background, so yeah.  Elite.   I'm learning the Yale fight song.  Maryland teams blow chunks.  So does Harvard.  Boola Boola. ”

Playing "I SPY"

TECHNO THRILLS                                Today's Fun Here's a fun thing to do when someone is surreptitiously watching what you're doing on your  computer (like on a plane, or in class, etc.) Open http://pentagontours.osd.mil/security.html Open http://hackertyper.com/ Start typing furiously Press F11 for Full Screen Press ALT 3 time for "Access Granted" Press CAPS LOCK 3 time for "Access Denied" After awhile look around nervously and close laptop.

A Big Bird Moment

Let's Have Fun!

Issac - What a crappy hurricane name

The man who named hurricanes In this truly delightful interview, Rich Hall talks about his first job:  naming hurricanes.  I doubt seriously Issac could ever have made his list.

Earn Carbon Credits

GREEN CRAP Carbon credits from dairy manure Here's how to play at home! Or, you can crap on your shag pile. It's the effort that counts, not the result.

Making Do With What God Gave You

Making Do Why a Lady always wears gloves in Teh City... e-C

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Klak-Klink-KlaK-Klink ...