Author: Kim du Toit
Quote Of The Day
We have a 3-for-1 series of quotes today:
From former Hong Kong governor Sir John Cowperthwaite, talking about his refusal to let his government collect data from the population:
“If I let them compute those statistics, they’ll want to use them for planning.”
From Eric Erickson, speaking about the BidenReich and the latest example of its bastardy:
“They don’t care about your privacy. They don’t care about your gun rights. They don’t care about congressional laws that prohibit the formation of a gun registry. They want to be able to target and harass gun owners.”
Mencken’s reminder:
“The only good bureaucrat is one with a pistol to his head. Put it in his hand and it’s goodbye to the Bill of Rights.”
Never more true than it is today.
Most British Headline Ever
I remember a story told to me once about a British bishop who was given a residence which happened to be in the middle of a golf course. As it turned out, the property was unfenced, which ordinarily wouldn’t have been an issue, except that the bishop owned a black Labrador pup and club regulations banned all dogs from the course.
So, in the best British manner, they made the dog a member of the club, which resolved the issue.
I was reminded of this story when I saw this article, with the exquisite headline:
Guinness-guzzling Shetland pony BANNED from pub just one week after being made mayor
The story goes:
Council bosses have banned the Guinness-loving horse from The Drum Inn, in Cockington, after he was given his special title at a ceremony held on July 23.
The honour was granted in response to an online campaign to elect him to the post following the death of previous mayor Don Mills.
Despite his job title, Patrick, a Miniature Shetland, is now in trouble, as a planning enforcement officer told the pub they need planning permission for him to be allowed to graze in the pub garden.
This is easily the most British story ever, in that it combines love of animals, eccentricity and humorless, bullying officialdom all in a single tale.
The only thing that would make it a perfect story would be if Patrick were to bite the pissy little planning enforcement officer in the ass the next time he ventured into the pub.
…And An American One
Here’s one for the ages:
Gun buyers defy Pelosi and Democrats, sales top 1 million a month for three straight years
In breaking the record, people delivered a strong message to liberal Democrats, who last week passed a ban on buying the nation’s most popular firearm, the modern sporting rifle, and other semi-automatic weapons and parts.
Suck it, gun-grabbing assholes.
…And One That’s Pure Louisiana, Cher
Okay, maybe Florida too; but the Cajuns got there first.
A man in Louisiana is facing various drug charges and wildlife violations after authorities found him with too many sharks in his boat and an undisclosed amount of methamphetamine.
I just can’t.
You can tell from the number of tags to this story that I have absolutely no clue how to categorize this.
Of All, Only This One
When you think of all the Lamborghini models ever released, the ones that probably come to mind quickest are the Miura:
…the Countach:
…or if you’re one of those Readers of more recent vintage, the Murciélago:
…or the Aventador:
It will probably come as no surprise to anyone that I wouldn’t touch any of the above with Bill Clinton’s dick. (No comments on that topic, please, this is a serious automotive post.)
No, the only Lambo I would ever consider owning — and that only after Iain Tyrrell had worked his magic, re-tuning and rehabbing it — is the early-60s model 350 GT, with its 3.5-liter V12 engine:
Now, my children… if you are unfamiliar with the design expression “half a teardrop”, follow me to Mr. Tyrrell’s Workshop and let him explain, in just over half an hour, what that means; and along the way, you may just start to agree with me.
No electronic gizmos, no nanny warning noises, no rev limiters, double-clutch automatic gearboxes or any of that modern folderol; just a car that one can enjoy driving, in the truest sense of the word. With Mr. Tyrrell babying it for me on an annual basis, it is unquestionably the car I could drive for the rest of my life.