Posts Tagged ‘evil’

Slowing down. Turbulence.

Things are not in reserve but I have them scattered about.

Have Mrs. Reynolds in her car.


Here is Mrs. Reynolds in my chair. I don’t dare move her when her eyes do that.


More later if I get permission to post something awesome.

But first a Richard Bach quote or two… Three I hope to teach my kids, actually

Your friends will know you better in the first minute you meet than your acquaintances will know you in a thousand years.

The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other’s life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.

Argue for your limitations and sure enough, they’re yours.

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Childrearing can be fun.

The kids are of an age to teach about guns.   At their age I was already shooting several boxes of .22’s daily.  Here they cannot do that.

So I got out various weapons and showed them the proper way to point them, when to consider them loaded (all the time), showed them how any one of them could easily kill a person.

Moved on to the “sound” portion.  I racked the Mossberg 500 – you know that formidable sound it makes.  I said “Kids when you hear that sound what do you do?”

“Run away” was one answer.  Another was “Hide in such-and-such location”.  I told them “No, what you do when you hear that sound is hit the floor.   “Let’s see how fast you can hit the floor when I rack this gun”

And so we made a game out of a very serious thing, which is get the kids out of the equation.   “How long do you stay there?”    “Until you say we can get up.”    They were slamming themselves into the floor to see who could be quickest.

It was a great start.    And I made it clear to them that if I ever have to choose between their safety and the safety of an intruder in our home we will not hesitate to send the intruder to his maker in the most expedient way possible.  I disabused them of the silly notion of “aiming for the leg” that so many liberals would love – if you mean to aim a gun at someone you should only have done so thinking that you or yours were in terrible danger, and if your situation is that extreme then the idea of only trying to wound someone is ludicrous.


Given the latest round of testing done to look at Lemurita and where she falls on the ASD continuum, they reversed her diagnosis to a lesser but still real diagnosis and then said “She tests just under 140 on her IQ.  Get her into robotics or something.”   Well, I KNOW she’s bright… why did y’all think I have been throwing latin and classics and music at her all this time?

She and I are so alike that the worst disservice we could give her is to not give her free reign to run as far as she can go in any field of learning.  With the right mentor, vast swathes of my childhood would have been infinitely more interesting.

So last night Lemurita and I built a galvanic response circuit you can use as a VERY simplified lie-detector circuit if you have appropriate leads.  She swears she does not sweat when she lies so now we must prove the point one way or another.  I’ll also take the opportunity to teach her how to flip the emotional switch off and see if that makes a difference.   Doing scientific projects with Lemurita is fun – a vast huge amazing amount of fun.

Wait until Lemurita and I make thermite and put it on a remote ignition.  Oh this will be such fun.

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I am going to live.  As my old man said, “You get to where you think you’re gonna die, then you pray that you will…”  And he was right, as far as that went.

But now I’ve decided I don’t want die just yet and that sentiment firms up more and more as the nasty old flu recedes in the rear-view mirror.  So while I didn’t get what I really wanted for Christmas (health) I got it later, so it all worked out.   The worst of the coughing is over and not a moment too soon since it cracked my neck every single cough.

Now I am just going in fits and spurts of being wiped out and then getting energy back off-on throughout the day.

See the energetic furry creature below?  She got spayed today and the poor dear is pretty uncomfortable.  Yes, even the Furry Little Black Dress of Evil can suffer.


We gave Lemurita an MP3 player for Christmas and she asked me to load it up with some of my music after she went to bed.  I have a huge collection of digital music but not all of it is exactly acceptable for a 10 year old.  Butthole Surfers, Circle Jerks, Henry Rollins, Metallica, the Doors… nah.  I did give her AC/DC Hell’s Bells (she loves that one), some Rod Stewart, Don Henley, bagpipes, etc.  Not sure about The Who, Shawn Mullins, Tom Petty, etc.

By the way – if you have not seen the movie Limitless, I would HIGHLY recommend it.  I said to Cruel Wife, “Ok, I have to admit that if I was in his shoes I don’t think I could have done anything differently – it would be that seductive, especially to my brain.”  It is NOT an anti-drug movie.  It’s not a pro-drug movie.  It’s a movie with a drug that the movie centers on but what a fun ride the movie is.

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As an attention grabber, I have totally stolen something from Bunk Strutts.  A certain amount of shame was involved, yes.

It is sad.  But I’ve more or less come to terms with it and have moved on.

I like Pugs.  I really didn’t steal this for any other reason than that I like Pugs.

Full disclosure: And he obtained it from here… http://www.amyoops.com/2012/08/from-my-inbox.html#.UDQrhqBA2tY

No, it’s not a sick kind of “I like Pugs” thing, I just think they’re ugly enough to be cute and I haven’t seen many mean ones.


Semi-alert reader ID10T Killer has sent me a second image that he says was flashed on his screen in a sidebar advertisement at Tom’s Hardware during his first visit on a totally virgin machine on it’s maiden voyage. (The first image can be found here.)

Now, this means one of the following:

  1. He’s either a lyin’ perv (which I’m not saying is a bad thing) and they’ve totally got his number  (odds of this are somewhere between 30% and 0.00001% but I ain’t telling because if I tell, he tells)
  2. Tom’s Hardware just figures 99% of their clientele consists of males who cannot find a real woman who will get (and stay) within 10 feet of him  (ID10T Killer is married, with kids)
  3. Tom’s Hardware is tracking people in ways we can’t believe
  4. Random sh*t happens all the time and even blind squirrels find nuts once in a while

If #2 didn’t make much sense, Tom’s Hardware is Geek Central.  Either accept that as gospel or go see for yourself.

Now, all that said, ID10T Killer and I have wondered…

“What in the hell is Wartun3, and are you going to be exposed to “t3nt@cl3 53x” or a major payload of nasty code just for being curious?”†

I doubt either of us is going to go check it out.  And we probably wouldn’t tell you if we did.

As Cruel Wife can attest, I have a thing for short cute brunettes with sometimes violent tendencies, so the graphic was at least interesting.

Apologies, because I am no fan of l33t-speak, but neither do I want web-crawling stuff sniffing me out for the term “t3nt@cl3 53x” so I threw in some pseudo-l33t.  Don’t even think about flaming me about my improper ‘spelling’ because I don’t even claim to know it all that well.


And, this just in from the Bizarro Universe…

Study:  Marriage causes women to drink more than men


And a hearty:


… to Aggie Sith and Cruel Wife.

Cruel Wife just visited Aggie’s site (Sithy Things) where she posted the recipe for a drink called “Witch’s Brew”.  She laughed at the drink and the name and I said “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, it’s Aggie post today” chirped Cruel Wife.

I thought hard.  “Wait, what was the post again?  Oh, the drink…”

“… Witches Brew,” she finished for me.

Cruel Wife read the ingredients list and said “‘Black sugar’ is an ingredient?  I’ve never heard of ‘black sugar’.”

Trying to be helpful because (a) I was pretty sure it wasn’t a common variant of heroin, and (b) I’m a food-lover and interested in all things food, I said “Hang on… I’ll look it up… okay… Bing-dot-com… b-l-a-c-k space s-u-g-a-r… waiting… waiting… oh, it’s some kind of Taiwanese variant of way darker brown sugar and…”

I stopped, stared, and then I finished with “… Goddammit, you better thank me for doing that search for you.”

Confused, Cruel Wife said “What, why should I tha… black sugar… oooooohhhh.  (insert ‘bwah-hah-hah-hah here)

One cannot un-ring the bell once it has been rung.  Dammit, I’ve been on the web 20 years and should have known better.  I’ve seen worse, I just don’t like being surprised by it.

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Today I took my bottle of Blair’s Mega-Death Sauce to work.

If you’re just stumbling in, BMDS is a sauce I bought while passing through Hell, Michigan?


How to describe it? Well, take a smoky pepper, one with hints of fruit from the habanero, add in the brightness of a jalapeno, add some salt, swirl it around some vinegar for tartness’ sake, and then add the crushed souls of harp seals and rhesus monkeys… and napalm.

Is it as hot as a bhut jolokia? Not. Even. Close. But it is zippy.

Only two co-workers had the testicular fortitude to try some today – Rectified Diode and The Dude.

Diode did really well and identified some of the flavors but then stumbled – stumbled hard – when he licked his lips. The burning sensation on the lips is a force that one must take seriously. He took his leave rather suddenly to go find some pop in the lunchroom. I cannot mock him for his response – it’s a powerful burn to the lips. Hey, he was one of two to even try it.

Next came The Dude. He and I regularly eat thai food, vietnamese, and korean food and always loaded with chilies, and we have roughly the same tolerance. He also recognized the flavors and appreciated the smokiness. It was his opinion that it’d go great in some guacamole or perhaps a bowl of chili. I concur.

Then the evening got interesting.

I went into the boss’ office with the bottle and a coffee-stirrer. I said “Squatting Bear, only two people – Diode and The Dude – had the balls to even try this. No one else had any guts whatsoever. So I figured I’d give you a chance.”

In guy-speak this is as good as calling a guy a p*ssy in advance if he refuses to try it, or basically the equivalent strength of the dreaded Triple-Dog-Dare.

Note: For reasons we will not go into I gave my boss that nickname years and years ago. Yes, he is aware of it. No, I do not call him by it.

He had to try it, he had no choice, really, and I am a soulless bastard for manipulating him so cruelly.

I pulled the coffee-stirrer straw out of my pocket and unscrewed the lid, placing it directly between us. Then I arched an eyebrow Spock-style and non-verbally dared him to do it.

He looked at me, dipped the stirrer and stared at it. I think the part of the label that says “Not to be consumed directly, dilute in food” might have spooked him a bit.

I sighed and tipped the bottle and coated my index finger with it and smeared it all around my tongue and showed him my spotless finger. I told him he could just touch the straw with his tongue as there was a decent amount on the straw. He rebelled against the very idea because I had bound him with a socially-binding contract – he’d been backed into the Triple-Dog-Dare corner even though I never actually had to utter those words.

He touched it to his tongue and started getting that “Oh no” look.

With gusto I took the stirrer from his trembling hand and licked every last bit off the stirrer and said “MMMMM-mmm, damn that’s good. That’s some serious gour-MAY sh*t there, boss.”

He grimaced and said “It just hit my throat.”

I said “Yes, I’m a bastard.”

Here he made pantomiming motions that should absolutely be interpreted as “Blood from The Alien splashed into my open mouth and just burned through my lower jaw and then splattered the ground”. He pulled it together and said “I am not much of a spicy food eater.”

“Never too late to start, SB! Have a great evening!”

In retrospect I probably should have weighed more carefully the possibility that he could fire me at any moment but it sure seemed like a fun idea at the time.

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I’m really into Skyrim when I’m not too dopey to function, which means I haven’t done a lot of it in the last month, but I’ve done some.  It’s a quite good game if you haven’t already seen it.

Alert co-worker Laconic Pup noted that Skyrim’s dragons can be modified so they’re cooler and macho-er.

Zoidberg mudcrab mod… I can’t stand Futurama’s Zoidberg and think he should be dipped in melted butter and fed to Blernsball fans.  So dispatching him in Skyrim sounds pretty good.


Yes, the only poll that counts is election day but here is an example of  wishful self-delusion:

When it comes to how Americans view President Obama going into the new year, there appears to be very little spirit of Auld Lang Syne. Instead, according to the new Washington Whispers poll, many voters aren’t forgetting what they dislike about Obama and want him out office.

In our New Year’s poll, when asked what news event they fear most about 2012, Americans by a margin of two-to-one said Obama’s reelection. Only 16 percent said they fear the Democrat won’t win a second term, while 33 percent said they fear four more years.

The problem is when you read 2:1 against it is easy to miss the fact that the “2” part is 33% of voters.  Thirty three percent accounts for the strict party-line conservatives that will never like a liberal in the WH.  But only 16% fear that Obama won’t win a second term… now that is noteworthy.  But even that doesn’t tell you how many people would likely vote in either direction.

One thing we can say for sure is that none of the presidential candidates that are likely to survive til election day are worth a fake nickel.

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Kim Jong Ill is dead. Who is hungry?

Yeah, go look it up. I’m not going to bother regurgitating the big news orgs’ stuff on it.

Sad. Pity.

We will see how tight insanity can be woven into the fabric of a society. Whether it can continue to feed itself after the current main vine has died.

Yep, what a pity.

Who is hungry?

How about a baked cheese and kimchi dip?

Kimchi Dip

It is all I got. Glad the little f*ck is dead.

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Warning:  Sensitive readers may find the following offensive or repulsive.  I suggest you toughen up and read it anyway, because if you can’t handle this, you’re in no shape to handle the new congressional supercommittee that is about to be shoved down your throat.

veeshir, who has studiously boycotted this blog for months now, posted a comment on a Sean M. posting over at DoublePlusUndead (yes, I’m confused, too, so relax – you get used to it).

You see, Sean M. linked to the SF Weekly where someone suggested that Bert and Ernie get married so it would be possible to teach small children and Republicans about gay marriage.

Me, I think we’ve got bigger issues at the moment, so if folks want to get married I say go for it.  Remember, I’m a Libertarian-conservative.   Say whatever you want in defense of traditional marriage – on a different post – that’s not an attitude on my part, but it steers us back to my real point on this post:

I do have a serious problem with sexualizing muppets.

veeshir said (hilariously):

I can’t believe they’re trying to force Ernie to marry that evil puppet
That’s just cruel.

We should start a “Free Ernie” campaign.

My follow-up comment, remarking on the more sinister side to all of this:

veeshir is right, Bert has been known to be evil† for well over a decade by my accounting, and probably half that again. It will end tragically with Ernie beaten repeatedly and doing horrid things against his will.

Bert supposedly even had ties with the Taliban.

Battered puppets are just the saddest thing ever. Once kids get a view of torn threads and protruding stuffing, Ernie wearing dark glasses, long sleeved shirts, and duct tape… the “teachable moment” will have really arrived. And everyone will ask why this had been allowed to go on so long.

Now, when I think “battered muppets” I picture beer-batter, tempura, or panko and wonder what muppet flesh must look and taste like.  Yes, that does somehow sound even worse than sexualizing muppets, I know that.

Muppet with Cilantro and Peanut Dipping Sauce

If you don’t remember the skit “Eating Muppets” from The State… well, you should go there right now.

The notion of Bert being Evil is nothing new.  I leave it as an exercise for the reader to go find it on the web using “bert is evil” as the google or bing search words.


The biggest, scariest, and most un-Constitutional blatant power-grab by Congress since the founding of this country, and the important question seems to be if the lone woman on the Super-Committee shouldn’t be two women so women have fair representation?  Seriously?

This is like bitching about which bar the book of matches that the arsonist who burned down your house got them from.


In keeping with the tribute to Nancy Wake, Nazi Killer, I’d like to toast another lady made of interesting stuff.  No, not Margaret Thatcher.  Nor Salma Hayek, nor Uma Thurman, nor Scarlett Johansson, nor Charlize Theron…  (yes, men are pigs)

Hedy Lamar.  Pretty and brains, too.

Any girl can be glamorous.  All she has to do is stand still and look stupid.  – Hedy Lamar, actress and owner of a patent for spread-spectrum controlled torpedo(es) – AKA Secret Communications System

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A New Plug.

Update:  I’ve recently argued that if women ruled the world there would be a lot less high-risk stuff done (Panama Canal, Boulder Dam, rail guns, etc.) but I have to say there’d also be a lot less stuff like these… jet powered… well, everything. Totally ridonkulous, IMHO, because they didn’t include a tiny go-kart version of a jetboat.


Another plug for Stephan Pastis – may people give his books as gifts this Christmas until supplies just plain run out.  There’s this endearing quality to his work.  There’s less meanness in it even though Rat is evil and the crocs want to eat everyone – especially “Zeeba” (they can’t pronounce “Zebra”).

Cruel Wife says I am Rat because of my sarcasm.  And I did a Goat once where I raved about cordless shades like the ones shown.  What can I say?  I’m complicated.


Why do so many First Ladies feel the need to horn in on the President’s job?  Cruel Wife feels no need to jump in where I work.  Nor would anyone give her the time of day because they hired me, not her.  As it should be.  Her company isn’t interested in me, either.

Military leaders … tell us that when more than one in four young people are unqualified for military service because of their weight,” the first lady says in the prepared remarks, “childhood obesity isn’t just a public health threat, it’s not just an economic threat, it’s a national security threat as well.   – Michell Obama, telling us how it is

Can you gimme hallellujah?

But when our kids spend so much of their time each day in school, and when many children get up to half their daily calories from school meals, it’s clear that we as a nation have a responsibility to meet as well. We can’t just leave it up to the parents.  – Michelle Obama, taking our responsibility upon herself, unasked for

Actually you should leave it up to the parents – that’s why parents are supposed to be involved in local schools.  We don’t need you, Michelle, just butt out.


Supposedly Global Warming leads to colder winters.  With that statement in mind, read the following from the Christian Science Monitor:

Last winter, the US reported snow coverage in nearly all 50 states in December. That anomaly led to unusual January freezes in the South and several “Snowmageddon” events in the mid-Atlantic, all of which Accuweather meteoreologist Joe Bastardi likened to “the great winters of the ’60s and ’70s.”

Mr. Bastardi predicted earlier this fall that the East Coast will “be granted a reprieve” from the kind of major storms that buffeted the region last winter. In fact, he noted that a fast start to winter in the East could lead to a major thaw in January.

Meteorologists have also predicted greater-than-normal swings between the season’s coldest and hottest days, creating what Mr. Bastardi dubbed “The Wintry Battle Zone.”

But the pre-Christmas “snow blitz” in the upper Midwest, added to the near-zero wind chills in the South, continue to confound atmospheric scientists like Mr. Martin, who is not keen to make a call on how the Winter of 2011 will pan out.

“Given our level of ignorance about what’s going on, we don’t want to compound that with a level of arrogance by saying we know what’s going to happen in a month,” he says.

If we don’t want a certain level of arrogance associated with claiming that we know what will happen in a month, how are we able to predict dire circumstances as a result of AGW?

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This is a true story.  I am not making this up.

Years ago, nearly a lifetime ago by some standards, I chanced to be at ground zero where some chihuahuas were on fire.

I was on the water-polo/swim team.  We would swim before school, go to classes, swim during 7th period, and then swim after school until 6pm.  It was a lot of hours in the pool.  14,000 meters a day at times.  There were days that even with goggles your eyes would burn so bad you’d bathe them in milk to try to stop the burning.

Note:  On our team milk was a folk remedy for burning eyes.  Not sure how well it worked but milk was cheaper than visine.

Note #2:  It’s never been proven that when nobody was looking Coach whizzed in the pool from up on the deck.   It was never disproved, either.

I remember the day like it was yesterday.  Sixth period was over.  I put my books in my locker and sucked in a hissing breath.  I knew that Farley the janitor had gone through all our lockers and removed our pictures and contraband.  To this day I believe the man was perpetually stoned in spite of the fact that he never bought weed in his life.

Kim Morris – Miss March of ’86 was gone.   Farley had stolen Kim.  You just don’t know what teenage angst is until you’ve lost Ms. March of ’86.

With a sob I slammed my locker door and took off.  There would be time to grieve later.

The daily game plan was to scream down to the pool between periods and rush to get out on the deck before the official start of 7th period.  Normally you’d run over an old lady or two  – Ms. Ineedaman the lunch-ticket seller or Mrs. Butch’sMom – and sometimes you’d run over a farm animal or two; 4-H had a strong presence at my school.

But this day started off difficult as I immediately careened off of a couple who could have been the template for RichandAmy in Jeremy Scott’s Zits comic strip;  They were post-natal siamese twins, forever joined at the hip(s).  What now?  Glissade across the scree of homemade confetti being made by the Teen Harpies.  Pirouette around Son-of-Troglodyte (he was huge).  Duck beneath the clothesline prom banner.  Break right to avoid Mrs. Formaldehyde’s opening door.  Up the Incline of the Penitents and another hard right through the Gate of Despair.  Through the Parking Lot of Hip Flasks and over the hood of Compensating-for-Something’s beautiful Chevelle.  Bounce off the chainlink of the tennis court and squeeze in the closing door to the pool.

There will be burning chihuahuas in this story, be patient.

I threw my locker open, grabbed a towel and twisted it into a rat tail, striking out just as the supersonic tip of an identical rat tail connected with a sharp crack against my thigh.  A welt and just a small dab of blood.  D&D Hero had managed to wet the tip of his rat-tail in a puddle of water and so he won that day.  There’s another tale involving rat-tails but we’ll save that for a later date.

Shucked my clothes and threw on my two suits – in Water Polo it is best to wear a backup suit, trust me.  We fought each other for pole position as we ran out on the cold wet deck for warmups.

The sun had managed to peek through the clouds and illuminated the deck through an ancient floor-to-ceiling window, giving the entire deck area a dreamlike glow.  We moved through our stretches with the ease of long practice while absorbing the times and distances of our workout laps written on the board.

I got about a third of the way into my lane assignments and only peripherally did I realize that things were not quite right down there.  As I continued to read I noticed that it was kind of uncomfortable – as if I had plunged my privates and ass in some ice-water but it was warm at the same time.

By the end of my study of the lane assignments I was in true discomfort.  My chihuahuas were on fire, “Herman” was in acute distress, and the crack of my ass had some icy lava coursing through it.  I endured the still worsening sensations for what was perhaps three minutes but felt like thirty years.  Then I realized that everyone on the swim/polo team – guys and gals and the coach – were watching me intently.

Note:  By now you have figured out that I’m mocking Mickey Rourke’s statement about petting his chihuahuas (see yesterday’s post).  It’s such a delicious euphemism, I can’t help but use it. – LK

Confused, I looked at each person’s face in turn and then faced my coach with true pain.  I was dancing/hopping from foot to foot as I said “Uh, Coach…”

He grinned his most evil grin (which was quite evil indeed since he was the spawn of Satan)  “What’s the matter, Lemur?  Need to get in the water?”

“Yeah, Coach… bad.”

“Go on, swim it off.”

I hit the water just as my privates – chihuahuas and Herman – flashed into so much ash and partially melted my suits.

The physical scars on my chihuahuas are gone but the mental ones remain.  I’d like to think I’m stronger for having endured chemical burns to the scrotum but we’ll never know for sure.

Note:  Icy Hot removes hemorrhoids about as well as you can imagine that a soldering iron would. – LK

Obama is such a hypocrite… Mr Blackberry himself is going off on technology:

Obama, who often chides journalists and cable news outlets for obsessing with political horse race coverage rather than serious issues, told a class of graduating university students that education was the key to progress.

“You’re coming of age in a 24/7 media environment that bombards us with all kinds of content and exposes us to all kinds of arguments, some of which don’t always rank all that high on the truth meter,” Obama said at Hampton University, Virginia.

“With iPods and iPads and Xboxes and PlayStations, — none of which I know how to work — information becomes a distraction, a diversion, a form of entertainment, rather than a tool of empowerment, rather than the means of emancipation,” Obama said.

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Well how about it, boys and girls?

  • You get Pro-Choice when it comes to abortions (aka killing children if you’re not one making a “choice”) but damn your everlasting soul if you even THINK about buying an incandescent bulb. So much do we feel so, that we’ll just keep y’all from having a choice… Fight Global Warming (Nuts)

Definition: Granola State – Take away all the nuts and flakes – what have you got? Really, what you have after said subtraction is a handful of people who are barricaded in their homes because they believe in conservative principles and that people ought to be responsible for themselves, not a nanny-state filled to the rafters with smelly, no-account, delusional people wearing hemp. Taxonomically: Hippie Campus Freeloaderus. When weighing the Granola State against the Socialist State a sparrow could starve on the difference.

  • Excuse me sir, may I see your permit to smoke…? Great Britain Smokes, But Not Cigarettes Don’t laugh – I’m not a fan of smoking but it’s a free country and guess what – this attitude is coming to the US. It’ll never be outlawed but they’ll tax the hell out of it and hope to hell that nobody quits because it is a self-righteous way to rake in more tax money.

As soon as I make the next statement someone will say some BS along the lines of “Well, I saw one better at… blah blah blah.” Save us both the hassle, if you think you’re going to say it, just go away. Ok, now I’m going to say it…

  • I’ve never seen a wrestling move like this. Wow. Over on “Absolute Moral Authority” Wicked Wrestling Move I imagine, once hit with this one, you end up pinned and saying “HUH? What the HELL? What is going ON HERE?!?”

This picture came with a warning in a friend’s e:mail. Thank God for friends… “Hershey’s Chocolate Can Cause Small Feet!” Evil Stuff, that Chocolate…

Lastly, for this post I wanted to plop down a link thrown out there by Steamboat McGoo over at Aardvarks and Asshats. You need to go to his site and watch that video with the oh-so-peace-lovin’ wabbits – it is SO peaceful at the end. And those wabbits worked hard for it. Go here.

New addition/edit to this post – inspired by McGoo, I’m embedding one of my favorite videos, “Ah, L’amore”

Now go rustle some feathers. Scare a lib today.

– LK

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