Tag: Stupid people

Fat Ass

Beauty, Freaks & Loonies, Gratuitous Chick Pics

I haven’t ever understood the fascination with a fat ass on a woman.  I know the anthropological reasons in primitive societies — where a wife’s ass was an indicator of her husband’s success, i.e. the better he fed her, the better provider he was — but I never understood the fascination for lard-assed women in the civilized world, and nor do these guys.

I know, I know:  this post is useless without some kind of pictorial underpinning. [sigh]

…and that’s one of the least offensive examples out there.  A single trip to WalMart… well, you know the rest.  (No such pic posted, on humanitarian grounds.)  And in any event, I speak not of the genus walmarta  — those women who become pear-shaped either through diet, childbirth or unfortunate genetic background;  I speak here of those vain modern women who have fat or worse injected into their posteriors to plump them out deliberately.

Anecdotally, a Black (female) friend once told me that Black women have fat asses as a protection against their male counterparts’ predilection for anal sex:  “It keeps them further back” — but I don’t buy that, unless that’s the primal cause for Black men to have larger-than-average dicks, I dunno.  Maybe, in the case of the Kardashian coven, the butt enlargements are simply done as an attractant for their favorite choice of partner (i.e. wealthy Black men).

Whatever.

What I do know is that this female trend towards buttock-amplification is pretty moronic, even when matched against female stupidity such as spending untold dollars on crap like anti-aging creams and potions (none of which work).

And I, for one, am not a huge fan thereof.  In fact, were it not for her superstructure, I’d find Carol Vorderman quite unappealing.

But hey, as the man said:  “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds.”

Within the bell curve, however, something that would occur more towards the middle — such as that as shown by Diogenes in her weekly series — is far more appealing:

What I also find unattractive, by the way, are those who inhabit the left-hand  side of the same bell curve:  the snake-hipped, flat-buttocked women of the runway model kind (which may also explain my disdain for the average Chinese or Japanese woman, few of whom seem to have any buttocks at all).

As with all things, sufficiency  is what we strive for.

Except when it comes to boobage.  Even I have my limits.

Buh-Bye

Elections, Politics

…to our favorite wannabe gun-confiscator, Beta O’Rourke, the Skateboard Jesus (thankee, Iowahawk), from the clown car Socialist slate of presidential no-hopefuls:

Don’t let the gun-butt hit you on the way out, you vacuous little snowflake.

Okay, folks:  y’all can stop buying those AR-15s now… or not.

Halloween Diversity

Africa, Mocking Furriners

From the annals of “countries whose policies we should emulate” (say the socialists), let’s take Sweden.

Or maybe not.

Police fear that Black Ax, an international criminal organization based out of Nigeria, is beginning to gain a foothold in Uppsala after already establishing itself in cities like Stockholm, Gothenburg, and Malmö, SVT Nyheter reports.
“They are mainly involved in human trafficking,” says Uppsala police spokesperson, Jale Poljarevius.
“They are holding women hostage, and through voodoo, they are tricking them into believing they will end up badly if they leave the job. But they are also involved in selling cocaine and heroin,” Poljarevius added.

Maybe I missed something, but before Sweden started importing people and their cultures from other countries, was this kind of stuff a problem for them?

Asking for a friend.

Strangely Satisfying

Eco-Crap, Gummint

You know, if an Alpine mountain community lived in constant fear of avalanches, one could feel a certain sympathy if said avalanches caused severe damage to the place each year and some loss of life among its inhabitants.

I suspect, however, that one would feel somewhat less sympathetic if the community refused to deploy snowplows and rescue helicopters purely because of the emissions from those vehicles.  Indeed, one might even get unworthy feelings of smug satisfaction and even Schadenfreude  from the annual, tearful news reports of death and destruction.

How then, are we expected to feel when California gets plunged into darkness and suffers loss of property and life through the regular occurrence of wildfires?

Fire conditions statewide made California “a tinderbox,” said Jonathan Cox, a spokesman for the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection. Of the state’s 58 counties, 43 were under red flag warnings for high fire danger Sunday.

And just so we know exactly why these conditions have reached the point to where they have:  despite the fact that hot Santa Ana winds create an annual risk of deadly wildfires, California continues to ban the clear-cutting and controlled burning of deadwood and -brush in wilderness areas as well as in areas close to suburban development because of supposed-ecological concerns.  That’s the “tinderbox” referred to above.

Moreover, it’s hard for the rest of us to feel pity for Californians when it’s clearly the fault of their own elected officials and legislature who continue to force their wrongheaded Gaia-worship on the Golden Shower State, with consequences that have become not only annual, but predictably horrible.  (And which some, equally-predictably, somehow manage to escape.)

I should feel guilty about my Schadenfreude, but I really don’t — just as I don’t feel sorry for Californians who complain about high taxes, iniquitous government interference in their lives, high real-estate prices and the whole dreadful litany of self-inflicted ills, all without exception imposed on them by, once again, their stupid, venal and self-serving elected politicians.

Let ’em burn.  Maybe at some point they may even be forced to try and get some change enacted through the ballot box, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

Update:  unusually, I seem to have understated California’s problems.

Triggering Update

Pussification Parade, Snowflakes

Here’s one which should make all grown-up people spit their breakfast gin into the Rice Krispies:

With the fragile millennial generation seemingly getting weaker by the day, a university in Scotland has fond it necessary to issue “trigger warnings” for college students asked to read Grimm’s fairy tales for class.

Now that said, I should point out that many of Grimm’s fairy tales — in their un-bowdlerized form, that is — are genuinely terrifying:  if one is five years old.

I remember being quite frightened by some of the darker fairy tales myself, but that, of course, is the entire point of the things:  they’re cautionary tales for children.  Just take Hansel & Gretel as an example:  don’t wander away from the house unaccompanied, or bad things will happen to you.  (I bet that young Miss Bambridge’s parents regret never having read that  story to their daughter during her childhood.)

But that supposed adults — university students, no less — who can vote, drive and buy alcohol (sometimes all at the same time) should require precautionary warnings before reading Grimm’s Fairy Tales ?  Just think:  some day these little weenies may be running countries and corporations.

Thankfully, by that time I should be dead.

And Back We Go Again

Two-Minute Hate

It’s not often that I agree with the doings of the foul European Union bureaucrats, but I see that they’ve just voted to do away with daylight savings time.  And as we’re coming up to the day (next Sunday morning) where we set the clocks back to Standard Time (where they bloody should be), I gaze across the Atlantic with something approaching envy — or rather, I will next year when DST becomes a thing here again.

Of course, this being Euroland, some people are going to be inconvenienced:

If member states give it the go ahead, EU countries will no longer put their clocks back in autumn and forward in spring.  But this would mean a time zone difference between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland, with the province still adhering to Greenwich Mean Time and British Summer Time.

As if the Irish need a way to cock their lives up any further… in discussing the matter with Mr. Free Market during our regular Sunday night drunken phone call, his suggestion is to let the Micks have one time zone (either one, no matter), after pouring a boatload of guns and munitions into the hands of the Northern Irish DUP, and let them all fight it out among themselves, while the rest of Britain sits aside in (to coin a phrase) splendid isolation.

If they’re going to fight about a version of Christianity, they may as well fight over an artificial timekeeping system, too.