Halloween Begins

Thursday, April 25, 2024

NOTICE - Deuxième Partie

 Thank you all for your well wishes for David. He came home after the outpatient surgery and he's doing better today. He had trouble breathing when he laid down in bed last night and I sat up with him most of the night making sure he was alright. Things simmered down finally after midnight but he slept in his office chair in the TV room. He has Tramadol for pain but said he hasn't felt any pain to warrant taking the pills yet. He amazes me. 

He has a 3:30 appointment this afternoon with his ortho doctor who did the surgery. The doctor will check his handiwork and David will get the bandage changed and another appointment to get the staples out. David just wants to get rid of the arm sling and says he will ask the doctor about ditching it when he sees him today. Otherwise, he's doing quite well for a cantankerous old 70-year-old fart. So, I'll be back to posting my usual garbage.

Monday, April 22, 2024


I wanted to let all y'all know I won't be posting on Wednesday. David is having outpatient surgery on his shoulder and I won't have the time to post anything. Sorry. 

Monday, April 8, 2024

Just an Idea. . .

 Today is the rapture and the solar eclipse. Scare the crap out of the rapture freaks, by blowing up some sex dolls with helium and then release them in a church parking lot right when the eclipse starts.🤪 😜 🤣🤣🤣

And wouldn't you know it somebody was thinking the same thing and posted video in TikTok, .8.24 featuring Beth Grant in this immortal scene from “Six Feet Under”, with Blondie singing “Rapture” on the soundtrack. I didn't know about this but it's stellar!

Monday, April 1, 2024

A Must Read

 Someone on Quora asked, "Why do some British people not like Donald Trump?" Nate White, an articulate and witty writer from England wrote the following response:

A few things spring to mind.

Trump lacks certain qualities which the British traditionally esteem.

For instance, he has no class, no charm, no coolness, no credibility, no compassion, no wit, no warmth, no wisdom, no subtlety, no sensitivity, no self-awareness, no humility, no honour, and no grace – all qualities, funnily enough, with which his predecessor Mr. Obama was generously blessed.

So for us, the stark contrast does rather throw Trump's limitations into embarrassingly sharp relief.

Plus, we like a laugh. And while Trump may be laughable, he has never once said anything wry, witty or even faintly amusing – not once, ever.

I don't say that rhetorically, I mean it quite literally: not once, not ever. And that fact is particularly disturbing to the British sensibility – for us, to lack humour is almost inhuman.

But with Trump, it's a fact. He doesn't even seem to understand what a joke is – his idea of a joke is a crass comment, an illiterate insult, a casual act of cruelty.

Trump is a troll. And like all trolls, he is never funny and he never laughs; he only crows or jeers.

And scarily, he doesn't just talk in crude, witless insults – he actually thinks in them. His mind is a simple bot-like algorithm of petty prejudices and knee-jerk nastiness.

There is never any under-layer of irony, complexity, nuance or depth. It's all surface.

Some Americans might see this as refreshingly upfront.

Well, we don't. We see it as having no inner world, no soul.

And in Britain we traditionally side with David, not Goliath. All our heroes are plucky underdogs: Robin Hood, Dick Whittington, Oliver Twist.

Trump is neither plucky, nor an underdog. He is the exact opposite of that.

He's not even a spoiled rich-boy, or a greedy fat-cat.

He's more a fat white slug. A Jabba the Hutt of privilege.

And worse, he is that most unforgivable of all things to the British: a bully.

That is, except when he is among bullies; then he suddenly transforms into a sniveling sidekick instead.

There are unspoken rules to this stuff – the Queensberry rules of basic decency – and he breaks them all. He punches downwards – which a gentleman should, would, could never do – and every blow he aims is below the belt. He particularly likes to kick the vulnerable or voiceless – and he kicks them when they are down.

So the fact that a significant minority – perhaps a third – of Americans look at what he does, listen to what he says, and then think 'Yeah, he seems like my kind of guy' is a matter of some confusion and no little distress to British people, given that:

• Americans are supposed to be nicer than us, and mostly are.

• You don't need a particularly keen eye for detail to spot a few flaws in the man.

This last point is what especially confuses and dismays British people, and many other people too; his faults seem pretty bloody hard to miss.

After all, it's impossible to read a single tweet, or hear him speak a sentence or two, without staring deep into the abyss. He turns being artless into an art form; he is a Picasso of pettiness; a Shakespeare of shit. His faults are fractal: even his flaws have flaws, and so on ad infinitum.

God knows there have always been stupid people in the world, and plenty of nasty people too. But rarely has stupidity been so nasty, or nastiness so stupid.

He makes Nixon look trustworthy and George W look smart.

In fact, if Frankenstein decided to make a monster assembled entirely from human flaws – he would make a Trump.

And a remorseful Doctor Frankenstein would clutch out big clumpfuls of hair and scream in anguish:

'My God... what... have... I... created?

If being a twat was a TV show, Trump would be the boxed set.

Source: Jobsanger: British Writer Pens The Best Description Of Trump I've Read

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