SOTI:

For this to be accurate, all the buttons need to be blank.
Stuff that makes me laugh
SOTI:

For this to be accurate, all the buttons need to be blank.
About as bad as usual, hence the level of commentary.

…death by mannequin: now there’s a fine tombstone epitaph.
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…I didn’t even know that New Mexico had any GOP voters, let alone an organization.

…exactly who is this “we” you speak of?

…


…you married a rock star and expected to be treated like a princess?


…much as I care nothing for this issue, I should point out to the Ginger Whinger that as this ceremony is being held in the United States, he has a First Amendment right — you know, the one he didn’t “get” — to wear his old lieutenant’s uniform from his tours of duty in Afghanistan — it’s the only part of his pre-Meghan life that we respect anyway.

…okay, I just made this one up. Or did I?
And now, some INSIGNIFICA:

And:
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…that’s it: they’re doomed.
Finally, from the Dept. of Total Suckage:


Ah yes… Monday again.

All about women today:

What you want:

What you end up with:

Think about it. Then:



…said no man ever.

…ditto.





Your suggestions for the conversation (in the He/She or She/He format, please) in Comments.
All the news that’s unfit for anything except derisive laughter.

…which means that Ice-T was wearing whiteface? I’m offended.

…just wasn’t his year, was it? Bad decisions, one after another.

…Man U fans being renowned for their own good behavior and manners.

…looks like you can go “full evil”. And as for the cops, they went “full incompetent” for thirty years.

…let’s hear it (again) for a nationalized health service.

…hey, I was just about to say that to her.

…am I the only one who isn’t shocked by either of the above?
And now, INSIGNIFICA:


…to be honest, all that means is that she’s not infertile.
Finally:

…and who has never wanted to do that? As for Miss Alessandra:

And no, I had no idea who she was before this, either. Model, or something.
From Ishmael, snarling away from his lair in the Shetlands:
I was up all night, between here and watching the telly. It was a wee small hours, musical interlude, on Channel Four, firstly a film of Liam Gallagher’s new ensemble, Beardy Eye, playing their new album in the Abbey Road studios. Liam is the truly neanderthal, younger brother from Oasis, a thick, grunting Manchester-Irish fuckpig, dumb as shit, you can hear the wind whistling between his ears, if he was any more stupid he’d have to be watered twice a week; makes Manchester United’s Wayne Potato look like a full Mensa meeting, does Liam. Nothing wrong with stupid. There’s lots of people like Liam, their oil just doesn’t reach the dipstick. He’s not as stupid as he looks, mind, because he looks like he was beaten with the Ugly stick and then ate it, ugly as fucking sin, is Liam Gallagher, ugly as a hatfull of arseholes; if your dog had a face like Liam’s, you’d shave its arse and teach it to walk backwards. Stupid, ugly and nasty, that’s Liam Gallagher, a truculent moron, charmless, graceless and entirely without discernible musical talent, a sign, in fact, of Ruin’s corrosion.
Now that’s scorn and dislike for you. And it gets worse…