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Fact-Based

Lifestyle, Plagues and Poxes

I may have said it first, but Steve Sailer says it with data and stuff:

Fortunately, in the current global outbreak only three people outside Africa have died so far, none in the U.S. Hopefully, there’s something different between African monkeypox and Western gay monkeypox.

Of course, monkeypox in America and Europe is overwhelmingly being spread by gay men to gay men.

For example, in New York City, none of its 336 victims so far have been women, in comparison to seven who are listed as “TGNCNB,” an acronym new to me that stands for “Transgender and Gender Non-Conforming Non-Binary.” Similarly, in Washington, D.C., which has the highest per-capita infection rate in the country, not one of the 122 patients is a woman.

Of course, one cannot mention the unthinkable:

“It’s unclear if this version of monkeypox spreads sexually or through more general skin-on-skin contact, or, most likely, both. It might also transmit through the air, but, at the moment, it appears to usually take a gay bacchanal to strew it far and wide.”

…lest one is accused of homophooohhhbia, but let’s be honest and at least acknowledge that in this case at least, there’s an ironclad correlation between buttsex and homopox.

Periodicity

Business, Feminazis

Longtime Reader and Total Hottie Mrs. Sorenson is upset by this development:

When Megan Thompson feels unwell while on her period, she can take time off. The 23-year-old can adjust her hours or work flexibly to help cope with severe cramps, migraines and fatigue. But if her period pain gets too bad, the finance company she works for allows her to take additional leave.

“It’s so refreshing being able to say to my manager ‘I’m on my period’ and she knows instantly to offer support,” said Megan. “And they actually offer me time off instead of me having to ask for it.”

Mrs. Sor asks (and I paraphrase somewhat, to spare my Readers’ tender sensibilities):

“WTF is all this nonsense?  Whatever happened to just gritting it out?  Ditto menopause.”

It should come as no surprise that Mrs. Sor is of the old-school Tough Broad type, who takes no guff from anyone — and in fact is pretty much the same as most women of my era and vintage.  New Wife’s opinions on this are absolutely identical to hers, as are my sister’s and, I suspect, all of them.  Several of them say things like “That’s why Midol was invented” and “Suck it up, sister” when confronted by today’s weepy feministicals.

Add to this factors such as long (and often mandatory) pregnancy leave demanded of employers, demands for on-workplace childcare facilities and so on, and you end up with the very reasons why in the not-so recent past women were often not hired by employers:  they’re just not as productive as men are.

And productivity, lest we forget, is the Holy Grail of any commercial enterprise.

But none of that is important, say the wimmyns, because equality.

Well, if equality means “no special treatment for men”, then I should remind everyone that it cuts both ways — except that’s not how they want it to work, is it?


…because that’s the productivity reality he faces.

Errrr Not Yet

Travels

From my Inbox:

Cheap Flights: Dallas to London, United Kingdom $647-$683 r/t [Sep-Oct] – American Airlines / British Airways / Iberia / Finnair

Ordinarily, this little deal would cause my ears to prick up like a Kardashian’s at the sound of rap music, because:

 

…or more likely:

…and:

…etc.

However:

Heathrow Airport chaos: Passengers fume at ‘utter carnage’ with queues ‘outside terminal’

…and:

British Airways ask for passengers to scrap summer holiday plans

…and:

Heathrow imposes daily passenger cap and tells airlines to stop selling tickets

…and then there’s this:

And those silly people who think that all this will be resolved by September should heed the words of one of my Brit friends on the topic:  “September?  In which year?”

Not to mention that at any time, the Brits could panic over some trivial health issue and lock the whole fucking country down again (and with my luck, I wouldn’t be in a pub when they did).

Sad, really.  So… no.

No Wonder They Lost The War(s)

Bad News, Drive Time

My plan this afternoon was to go and set up a new bank account to handle the dollars that my Kind Readers are going to support me with, and buy a few groceries from the Kroger across from there.

“Hello, Tiggy,” says I to the VW.  “Ready to go on a little trip?”
“Sorta.”  Some miles go by.  “Nope, sorry, let me show you my check engine light, and if that’s not enough, I’ll throw in a little juddering and unresponsive throttle.”

125,000 lousy miles, lovingly looked after, and it does this to me.  (see title)

I just made it to Mike The Mechanic (actually Chris, but that lacks the alliterative impact) who, when I described the symptoms, gave a merry laugh and called his wife to book that trip to the Bahamas.

Even better, I’ll only get it back next week, as they’re as busy as Hunter Biden in a whorehouse with a wallet full of taxpayer money.

Which means that for the foreseeable I get to chug around in Sputum:

Not that I mind, though, although it does mean that I will have to ferry New Wife to and from The Job.  Or just stay at home, drink gin and growl at my screen.

Wait:  what was the first option again?