…as we bid a fond farewell to Black History Month.
Till next year.
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And in similar vein:
...and they said romance was dead.
...roll on Cherry 2000, baby.
...and handed it to the cops as “evidence”. Works for me.
...because no Black man, ever, has stolen a car.
...Rolling who?
...wait, a 1.5 Richter? [laughs in Turkish]
...once again: beware round numbers. And see next week’s breathless report which will completely contradict this one.
…sorry, m’lady, but this started LONG before #MeToo.
#PussificationOfTheWesternMale.
...okay, now THAT’S funny.
From the Dept. Of Energy:
...eagles to the west of me, whales in the east, here I am stuck in the middle with you coal. [thankee, Reader terrapod]
...and predictably, all the mainstream media reports are about how the cops beat him up while getting his gun away from him.
...if they can fuck with Roald Dahl’s books, I can bowdlerize their fucking headlines.
And from the dripping files of INSIGNIFICA:
And finally, on a musical note:
…and while we’re there:
I think she’s adorable — although I’m still trying to deal with her being 48 (!!!) — and she has a brilliant (and sexy) stage act.
What If?
Apparently, there’s a mayoral election in Chicago today. In any other city (peopled by sane voters), an incumbent and incompetent mayor like Lori Lightweight would be not only tossed out of office, but out of her tenth-floor office window.
But this is Chicago, so she may well be reelected, simply because she’s running against the seven nine dwarfs. and the vote will be so splintered that a runoff is a distinct possibility.
Frankly, I’m looking at the thing the same way I look at two lions fighting on Animal Planet: morbid curiosity, indifference, detachment, no favorites, and so on. Where this differs from a lion fight is that if Mayor Betelgeuse is reelected, the Chicago voters are going to get what they deserve, good and hard (to quote Mencken).
And I’ll still be morbidly curious, indifferent and detached, because stupid people need to have the consequences of their stupidity shoved in their stupid faces.
More Double Trouble
…and we’re not talking shotguns, either. No, as I’ve mentioned in the past on several occasions (here, here, here and here), I get confused between two totties unless their pics are side by side (again, not a shotgun reference). I speak of Una Thurman (L) and Natascha McElhone (R):
“But Kim,” you say, “they don’t look anything alike, and their names are dissimilar. Even for your addled old brain…”
Uh huh.
See what I mean? No? Oh well.
They’re still both totally hot.
Train Smash Country
Via Longtime Reader Andrew T. comes this little bulletin. Here’s how it begins:
1. South Africa has collapsed. US embassy is now informing international travellers to stock up (prepper style) on food and water.
…and it gets worse from there.
As some guy once wrote: Let Africa Sink. Please feel free to take issue with any of my prognoses therein.
…and:
Unattainable Goals
One of the most irritating bits of bullshit I’ve had to deal with since I came Over Here in the Great Wetback Episode Of 1986 is the (Californian) affectation of wishing everyone a good day, which along with the “smile” button never fails to set my teeth on edge.
“Have A Good Day!” is unbearably trite and superficial, not to mention facile and asinine.
Telling a shop assistant or restaurant worker to have a good day is totally stupid: how much of a good day can you possibly have when you’re serving the public? At best, you won’t be killed for forgetting to put the fries into the takeout bag.
As New Wife (who also hates the expression) pointed out to me over the weekend, it’s not just its banality but its ambition, which is unreachable.
“A whole day? That’s asking too much of the universe,” she said. “We should just wish that their next ten minutes can be disaster-free.”
And don’t even get us started on “Live long and prosper”. Talk about overreach.
We are kindred souls. Polite, but gloomily realistic.