OMG here’s the latest Covid development:
You mean, like the flu shot I get every year? Whoop-de-fucking-doo.
Let’s not even talk about the rampant government bureaucracy involved in having a “Vaccines Minister”… reminds me of all the busybody “czars” that our own gummint foists on us every time a Democrat occupies the White House.
“Recently I spent a couple of days in Dubai-on-Thames, formerly known as London”
…you just know you’re in for a rant of the kind you will often see on this back porch, only with (far) fewer Bad Words. And indeed, Theodore has still more gems, like:
“That anyone capable of uttering such drivel should be appointed (with the prime minister’s approval!) to a position of such importance demonstrates that the country has long since passed the point of no return as far as its decay is concerned.”
…and my personal favorite (about another writer):
“In a sensible world, the writer of this would be charged with crimes against the English language and forbidden from ever writing again.”
Under the reign of World-Emperor Kim, such charges would be accompanied by public floggings, but let’s not get distracted here.
Also:
“On and on goes this saccharine semi-prayer that made me want to throw a brick through the window.”
Or put a .45 bullet into the miscreant writer, but that punishment would be reserved for the editors of various newspapers (you can guess their names).
Anyway, go ahead and read the whole article, because I’ve only touched on the vitriol.
The title of this post reverts to the original spelling of the word, i.e. something that inspires awe, and is being used sarcastically.
SOTI:
Earlier this month, a man was arrested after he allegedly threatened to kill TSA agents. “This is a free country,” he said before swinging a line post at officers who shocked him with a stun gun, according to charges brought against the man. Shortly before his confrontation with TSA, he was reportedly seen headbutting TV screens, stripping naked and masturbating in the airport.
Now who among us can claim never to have wanted to do all that?
I know: you never go Full Belushi.
So let’s get that tent fixed with a little humor. And speaking of tents:
And on that note:
French women: the fantasy:
French women: the reality 
Now go and shave, and get to work.
Okay, okay, okay… sheesh, gimme just a moment to find that pic of a naked Salma Hayek shooting a Colt 1911 at the New York Times editorial committee from the window of a Ferrari 599, willya?
I know it’s around someplace…
Harry Connick Jr.’s take on When My Heart Finds Christmas.
Connick is one of the most underrated singers ever — by the public, not by other singers — with his matchless range, phrasing and timing. As I’ve written before, he makes Sinatra look like a barroom busker.
I’m a former chorister, an alumnus of the Royal Schools of Church Music. Back in the day, I could sing anything off the sheet music you put in front of me, whether I’d seen it before or not.
But there are times that I listen to Harry Connick Jr., and when he does one of his trademark vocal tricks, I find myself saying: “How the hell did he do that?”
And his Christmas album, while a little too jazzy for some (even me, at times), is a true classic.
