A Rant (not mine)

Every now and then I read something that leaves me in awe of the creative insanity out there, this guy is one of my favorites....

From The Rude Pundit:

12/23/2015

Hillary Clinton Responds to Donald Trump: A Christmas Fantasia

"Okay, everyone, let's be perfectly clear: a 'schlong' is a dick. If you are being schlonged, you are being dicked. If you are being dicked, you are being fucked, probably in the ass, since then the receiver of a theoretical schlonging is gender nonspecific. Donald Trump did not say I was 'schlonged over,' which is a bit more euphemistic. He said I was 'schlonged.' So if you want a candidate who thinks it's totally fine to say that another candidate was ass-fucked out of an election, Trump is your man. And if Trump is your man, then fuck you, and, let me be perfectly, un-Yiddishly clear about this, you can take your fist and shove it up your own ass, you fucking idiots.

"You got that? I'm not speaking in code or nuance, and I'm being vulgar. I'm not going to play Trump's pussy game of coming back later to say, 'Oh, I didn't mean you got fucked when I totally said you got fucked.' I'm saying that you, Trump voters, are idiots and inbreds and shut-ins and freaks. And that you should take your hand, make a fist, reach your fist around until it is just outside your asshole, and then you should work to shove your own fist into your anus, dislocating your shoulder to do it, should that be necessary. You are all disgraces to democracy.

"Donald Trump also questioned what I was doing in the bathroom during a break where it took me a couple of seconds longer to get back to the podium during Saturday's debate. He said, and I quote, 'I know where she went -- it's disgusting, I don't want to talk about it. No, it's too disgusting. Don't say it, it's disgusting.' You're right, Mr. Trump. I took a huge shit between commercials, just a moaning, nearly orgasmic shit, and I looked in the bowl after and named it 'Donald.' Then I wiped my ass and I named each tissue after one of your wives. This one's Ivana. This one's Marla. This one's Melania.

"Seriously, what does Donald Trump do in the bathroom that makes him think it's so disgusting? I pissed in a clean toilet in a clean bathroom, used a clean piece of toilet paper to wipe, washed my hands with soap and water, and came back to work. Does he have one of those weak penises that sprays urine in two or three different directions? Does he shart his pants every time he tries to push a dribble of piss out? Or maybe his diet of caviar and champagne and the tears of immigrants is such that he has constant diarrhea, blowing out the porcelain over and over again with a fire hose of liquid shits and blood. Yeah, that's disgusting.

"This election is so fucking dumb at this point. And right now there is a good chance that I'm going to have to stand on a stage with Mr. Trump and debate him. It should make us ashamed to be Americans, the idea that a significant portion of the population thinks that a man who never held elected office and who says his best qualifications include hosting a reality show should be president over a woman who worked on huge cases as a lawyer and was a Senator and a Secretary of State.

"Losing to Barack Obama? That wasn't getting schlonged. Being forced to respond to every stupid thing vomited out of Donald Trump's mouth, the really disgusting thing in this whole bullshit uproar? That is not just me getting schlonged, but the entire country. Vote for me and I'll cut off his schlong and toss into the garbage disposal, where it belongs.

"Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year."

(Note: That last line was the Christmas part.)

And Another Gem...

One of the side effects of our new information culture, you wind up finding something completely.... contrary to the rotten behavior of humans recently, especially here in the good ol' USA with our habits regarding firearms.

Here's the link:

http://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/pro-lifer-takes-flowers-to-calif-planned-parenthood/

I sincerely hope this little action garners a large amount of attention, we need more people like Sarah Parker in our world.

A Gem From The Web

A semi-obscure adventurer and semi-philosopher that I have been aware of for many years posted this quite concise thought (as part of one of his explorations, lots of very well put together history of Michigan!), thought I'd share:

"I lament that as we slowly forget where we came from, we will forget who we are, and thus lose sight of what we are supposed to be."

That works, eh?

Sheriff Tom (Part 1)

There's been buttloads of stories about cops being murderous assholes recently, can't say that the age of the internet and a fucking smartphone is a bad thing....

I'd like to contrast that with my own personal interactions with a County Sheriff in a small mountain town out west closing in on thirty years ago. This was a pretty weird place for two Motor City longhairs to land after a quarter-century or so of weird behavior (long story there...), but the locals seemed to take us in stride and we had a mutual understanding of the Golden Rule type with them.

One of those folks was Sheriff Tom.

A fine example of his method of policing was to be had by Rick and me on a summer Saturday night after we closed the bar that was up the canyon a mile or so from town. Quick sidetrack, when Rick and I went on a tear, ENORMOUS amounts of Jim Beam and beer served as the baseline for any other substance that came our way, and the results were....unpredictable.

Anyway, we staggered our way out into the wilderness that was the parking lot, found his truck and, with some considerable wobbling and fumbling, got in and proceeded to head down-canyon at about 25 or 30 miles an hour. Just above town is a spot where you can turn left and take the shortcut to Rick's house, just before the turn is a wide spot on the same side, Sheriff Tom would sit there sometimes just to keep an eye on things.

Here's where things get interesting.

We rolled erratically  around that last curve before the left turn, saw Sheriff Tom's Bronco at about the same time he flicked his blue-and-reds on and off. Naturally, we pulled over next to him and waited until he got out and walked over to the driver's side. He looked at Rick, looked at me, smiled and asked "Ok, you two, where are you going?" . We replied that we were going to Rick's house as we both have had a considerable amount of fun already and it was time to call it a night (the actual conversation is untranslatable due to....).

He looked at the pair of us and said "Ok, I'm gonna follow you to the house and I don't want to see this truck on the road again tonight" That's exactly what he did, we wobbled our way the last little bit to the driveway, shut it down and got out, waved at Sheriff Tom, who flicked his blue-and-reds again and drove away.

Now, THAT'S what I consider to be the the gold standard for policing, know your people and protect them from their own stupidity when needed.

I've got more Sheriff Tom stories, will be posting more soon. Somebody should be acting a  counterweight to all the bad press.

The Thunderstorm

This another of those bands that never quite made it but are still remembered in the Age Of The Internet.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEhVLcelDMQ

You think Humble Pie rocked? These guys bring to mind something that happened to me many years ago while climbing a mountain, we could see the approaching thunderstorm and when it finally slammed into the mountainside all we could do was hunker down and wait until it was over. Less than twenty yards away from me was a big-ass boulder, it had a big ol' hole burned into it from a lightning bolt....

Cactus was kinda like that, loud as fuck and likely to leave high-voltage scars on the human mind....

Let them (not) eat cake

I've had gay/lesbian friends for decades and have watched this whole recent uproar over wedding cakes with a great deal of consternation and wonderment at the wretched misunderstanding that is abundantly obvious to me, can't understand just what is so fucking complicated here....

I'm going to set aside the usual religious bigotry that is quite evident on the part of the Jesus Taliban types who are so damn exercised about baking a cake for Joe and Dave or Melissa and Jennifer, that's been covered quite well already.

What bothers me is why don't the couple just say "Ok, we'll take our business elsewhere." 

Then, they can pass the word about the bigot bakery and then they will lose business in the long run. This is a useless and stupid thing to be bothered with and can be governed by market forces instead of making a court case out of it.

I've said it before and I'll say it again:

FUCK THE JESUS TALIBAN!

Let these fools live their lives in their own way, there are much larger battles to be fought than a petty argument over a fucking cake....

CHINO

Well, I've had about enough.

I've decided to coin a new acronym to describe the current crop of weird people:

CHristians In Name Only    CHINO

My family has a long (as in many generations going back to the late 1700's) tradition with the Congregational Church here in the USA and I can say with certainty (because she told me so) that my mother viewed the people who started the current "evangelical" movement that the Republican Party has so shamelessly colluded with as a gang of opportunistic fakes. (I'm being kind here, she had some pretty strong opinions about this for a lifelong supporter of the Republican Party)

What they are peddling is not Christian, it is a perversion of everything my family (and my family's tradition) held dear and it's about time that the rest of the world became aware of the evil that is being perpetrated in that name.

Enough Is Enough

It's time to denounce these evil fuckers for just what they really are:

CHristians

In

Name

Only

CHINO

More tunes...

I remember Warren Haynes from my time living in Asheville, NC many moons ago, some seriously fun times.... Getting away with mooning a four-way intersection in front of a particular watering hole on Merrimon Avenue on a dare for a pitcher of beer apiece (much hooting and cheering from the patrons) on a night when the band he was in was playing there is a pretty weird memory.

From the 2007 Jammy awards show:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n5NPN3NF0rM

Warren wrote that one.

Southern Storytelling...

I grew up steeped in the musical mayhem surrounding the Motor City starting somewhere way back then and the general attitude sticks with me to this day..... the best I can do in print is:

...lean into it, turn it up and hope the amp don't blow...

What, that's all you got, motherfucker?

Here's a fine example of that same spirit; storytelling well-done Southern style...

LOUD Southern Style...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZKCKERcqbF0

To Protect and Serve....

Mountains of reporting (print, audio, video, internet...) has been in the public realm concerning police/citizen interactions gone horribly wrong of late and it finally dredged up a memory from a rather degenerate period of my life from more than 40 years ago, thought I'd share a story.

Ok, a disclaimer, I don't know if all the folks who were involved in this story are still alive and I certainly don't have any kind of permission to play Mister Expose' so I'll leave off giving names and obscure the location to protect both the innocent and the guilty, this happened in Southeastern Michigan somewhere around 1974 or 1975 after the drinking age was lowered from 21 to 18.

Generally speaking, we were a bunch of pot smokin' acid eatin' rascals who made it a habit to enjoy ourselves to the fullest, the social scene revolved around a couple of drinking establishments on Main Street where we cured cotton mouth by imbibing vast quantities of draft beer while we cranked the jukebox and played pool until the bartender kicked us out at 2:00 am.

One of those evenings saw my friend Rick come out the front door of the bar in fine form (read: zoned out of his mind) at closing time whereupon he began to serenade the street with his horribly off-key rendition of the last tune he had heard on the jukebox.

 At the top of his lungs.

 While staggering aimlessly up and down the sidewalk.

Understand here, this was a small town Main Street, there were apartments above pretty much every business on said Main Street and, in the days before air conditioning, everybody who lived up there had their windows wide open and a fan going to attempt to counteract the astonishing combination of 90-some odd degree temperatures and 101 percent humidity quite common at that time of year, so the sound of a well-crazed drunk/stoned fool singing some rock tune badly at the top of his lungs caused enough of a fuss for somebody to make a call to the city police and complain.

This is where things get interesting....

Sarge was on duty this particular evening, he was well known to all of us and he knew all of our families and had a pretty good handle on what was going on with all of us degenerate delinquent screwballs because he was cool enough to drink in the same bar as us when he was off-duty; he had a genuine concern going and it was made evident on this particular night. When he answered the call of "Drunk Who Can't Sing On Key", he parked the car, got out and put his arm around Rick's shoulder and calmly explained that, nothing personal, he had to do something about a noise complaint and informed Rick that he was going to have to spend the remainder of the night in the drunk tank. Rick realized that he had kinda pushed things a bit too much and allowed himself (and all the other people inhabiting his addled brain) to climb into the back of the police car without incident and without handcuffs. When Sarge got in the driver's seat, Rick realized he was in a tough spot and confessed to him, "Um, Sarge... I've got a bag of weed in my pocket...". Being the kind of guy he was, he looked at Rick, looked at the window that was halfway rolled down, back at Rick and said "You don't see me looking, do you?" and turned back around to drive to the station. Needless to say, the bag of weed went out the window.

The only reason I know about this little misadventure is that Rick showed up at my place early the next morning; after they let him out of the drunk tank he walked back to the spot on Main Street and, sure enough, that bag of weed was still laying there in the gutter for him (and me) to enjoy.

Forty-some odd years later this incident still resonates with me when I look at what "policing" has become. This is what happened back then:

Sarge "served" the folks who made the noise complaint and he "protected" my friend Rick from facing a charge of owning a bag of weed.


What the fuck has happened?


I can offer one observation that may be of relevance, I read something odd surrounding the awful events in Baltimore; a very large percentage of the officers on the force do not live in the city that they patrol on a daily basis!

As the military jargon goes, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?

How the fuck are you supposed to do that kind of a job if you don't even live in the same town among those you are supposed to "Protect and Serve"?

Musical Detour 2

Wandering the internet can pop off with something unexpected sometimes, I was looking for something else entirely when I found this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7V8gUVDF7c

I've never been a watcher of "action movies" and so have always had a bit of stereotyping when it came to Steven Segal, nothing bad just no opinion at all. Come to find out, much to my surprise, he has been playing blues guitar far longer than he has been an actor....

Kinda the John Lee Hooker/Muddy Waters school of crunchy playing, he ain't no Derek Trucks but he can make it wail nonetheless!

Just a thought...

I am pretty easily disgusted with the current (and ongoing, ad infinitum) state of our country's political discourse, what I'd be interested in witnessing is something along the lines of Rand Paul and Bernie Sanders being asked in a "debate" if they each know these names:

1) Wendell Berry
2) Joseph Campbell
3) Robert M. Pirsig

....and then continue on from there.

Sadly, I think my hopes for something like that only exist in the realm of my own imagination...

Oren

This guy was a geyser of information.

If it weren't for him, I never would have wandered into the Linux world.

If there is something on the other side, he gets to find out first (fucker....).

Bill O'Reilly, Meat Puppet

Now, this has been a well and truly disgusting moment or two in journalism of late. That scrofulous wretch, Bill O'Reilly, has single-handedly (the other one busily engaged in servicing his own engorged cock) managed to disgrace the profession by refusing to answer a clearly stated and presented set of questions regarding his journalistic past and the veracity of some of his statements. Instead, he has taken the low road rather than be a true journalist.

Wait.... He works for Fox.

So, this pitiful excuse for pond-scum (Apologies to pond-scum for equating you with a lower life form) wants to display a semi-literate example of insult and abuse toward the authors of a legitimate set of questions, eh?

This from a joker with an asshole the diameter of a monster truck tire from all of the fists jammed up there at the same time and in competition for flapping his jaws in accordance with the wishes of whoever is paying him? Don't forget, Bill, one of the things about being a Meat Puppet is that the fist up your ass can direct your mouth to the cock that's paying those bills, too. And keep your face jammed down on that cock until you swallow the money-cum.

If there were such a law, he should be charged with felony abuse of the air he breathes and, under the "Three Strikes" felony statutes, should be imprisoned for the rest of his syphilitic life.

Don't get me started.....

Meat Puppets

Welcome to the '16 presidential circus and the disgusting sight of big money doing the usual....

On the one side, Mitt, who is well-thought of by the big money folks who have again jammed a fist up his ass, making his jaws flap to a pre-determined noise. Then, on the other side, you have Hillary, who is well-thought of by the big money folks who have again jammed a fist up her twat, making her jaws flap to a pre-determined noise.

I want to see a real contest of ideas. Rand Paul? Bernie Sanders? This meat puppet shit needs to stop.

Hey, Hunter......

This was made at my request and design a whole buncha years ago, I still have it......

You know you are always and forever going to be that one step.....         Shit, I need another beer.