Okay, this “new week, new challenges” nonsense is getting out of hand, and crap like this doesn’t help:
Given infinite time, any task can be completed. Quite clearly, the stupid Danish tart never had a scumbag boss telling her that it had to be done by five or she’d lose her job.
But let’s get on with Teh Funneez:
And finally:
So just to add a little non-narcotic anti-depression:
…except for Mondays. I always know when it’s Monday. So here’s something to help me (and y’all) forget what damn day it is:
As The Englishman reminds me: 
Black oLives Matter.
And speaking of rioting assholes, a quick commercial message:
Back to the office:
Speaking of wannabe office-holders:
And other stupid gummint stuff:
And speaking of health, I have to go for a routine checkup later, so:
And finally:
I’d offer to hold them for her, but it’s really difficult running as a tripod.
And here we see the danger of un-gripped breasteses:
Now drive yourselves to drink work.
According to Some Survey Or Other (Science!!!), this is what most Brits dream of when thinking about their ideal garden:
Okay, some of them are just daffy — a maze? — and good luck getting the go-kart track past the neighbors (unless you’re going to be racing electric go-karts).
I am as given to dreaming and wishful thinking as any, and probably more than most; but I can’t help thinking that having so many outdoor activity features (yoga areas, outdoor gym etc.) are not going to be used that often given a climate in which Britain’s principal export is rain.
Also, excepting bloated plutocrats such as Mr. Free Market (whose estate holdings make Prince Charles look like a slum dweller) and Top Gear’s Richard Hammond (who has a castle), most Brit houses have an average outdoor area which can be measured just as well in square inches as feet — and not the 88-foot “desirable” backyard they dream of.
In Kim Terms, 88 feet couldn’t even accommodate a 25-yard indoor pistol range, which leads me to my next point.
Notably absent from all the Brit dream gardens is anything devoted to shooting. I know that the BritGov (a pox be upon it) seems to frown on the shooting sports, but nowhere on the above do I see listed even something as innocuous as an archery range. (I have a well-founded suspicion that a similar list taken from a poll of my Readers would have a 100-yard rifle range near the top, followed closely by a 1,000-yard playground where one could happily play with Barrett rifles etc.)
So, on to just such a poll. In Comments, please list — in order — the top 10 most desirable features you’d like to see in your “back yard” (define it however you wish: “back forty” is also acceptable). Don’t bother with explanations or exposition; the inclusions should be pretty much self-explanatory, e.g. “four-bay 25-yard air-conditioned indoor pistol range” (which would be in my own top 3, incidentally).
No mazes. Also exclude strange exotica such as “hippie burial ground” and the like. This is a serious poll. [eyecross]
Have fun with it, and limit ten, please.
From the always-readable James Delingpole comes this outstanding zinger:
“Just when did Britain become so incredibly, embarrassingly shit?”
His take on the British people is curt and cutting (“an embarrassing mess: a nation of snitches and cry-bullies, tinpot fascists and mask-compliant bedwetters”), but that’s not his only target.
While Delingpole also hauls off at Boris Johnson (“a priapic lard-butted lightweight chancer who should never have been given the keys to Number 10”), he saves most of his ire for the Oily Little Shit Tony Blair (“closet Trotskyite”) and the mainstream media / government bureaucracy (“over-influential demagogues like the revolting Piers Morgan, not to mention the whole of the BBC, Channel 4, Sky News, and virtually every newspaper, the civil service, everyone in the judiciary…”).
It’s not often I read a rant which I wish I’d written; but this is one for the ages. Read it all, and chuckle. (Or weep, if you’re British.)
And by the way: if you see a large number of parallels to the United States… well, that was the whole point of this post.
After a lovely weekend, Monday mornings are like being really hungover after some heroic partying, and waking up to this lying on the pillow next to you.
So to get that out of your minds, here’s some fun stuff.
Actually, that’s the average corporate workplace nowadays, except that it needs a couple of HR weasels to round it off.
Don’t see why; I can see at least a dozen pieces that aren’t actually touching the floor.
And while we’re on that topic:
Good question. And finally:
Another good question. But instead of questions, let’s all look at some answers, to the question: “What’s so good about 105-degree days?”:
Hope that helps.
I mean there’s only so much a man can take, when faced with this situation:
[Britain’s] international Trade Secretary welcomed an announcement by US trade representative Robert Lighthizer that Washington would not go ahead with a threatened extension of the tariff regime that would have affected gin and blended whisky.
And in a ‘modest’ easing of the tariffs, Mr Lighthizer said products such as shortbread would now be exempted as the two sides continue to seek a resolution to a dispute centred on planemaker Airbus.
But duties on top-quality single malt whiskies – which are made from a single batch of malted barley – remain in place at 25 per cent.
Shortbread? Shortbread? Who gives a shit about shortbread (a.k.a. compressed sugary sawdust) when Glenmorangie is being taxed to the skies? Twenty fucking five percent?
And let me warn our esteemed President and “trade representatives”: raising taxes on Sipsmiths and J&B would make you no different from the high-tax-loving Democratic Socialists.
HANDS OFF MY BOOZE!
*Just kidding.
