Have you ever laughed so hard, your soul came out your nose?
Yeah, I should have spent more time on the finishing touches. But I’ll be honest, fam, this thing was freaking me out.
September 12, 2016 — 8:09 pm
This isn’t mine. The caption, I mean. I did the artwork, but someone else — I know not who — put the words on it, and now that’s the most common version you’ll find on the web.
I cannot tell you how much that tickles me.
Sometime commenter bikeboy wrote me last night looking for the Hillary! poster I did. Turns out, the ‘steal my art’ button broke when I moved the blog. It didn’t even occur to me until that moment that NOW-NOW-NOW is the very last chance to recycle my Hillary! campaign art (and I devoutly hope I will not be making President Hillary! art, ever).
So I figured I’d gather it all together for you. Feel free to steal, alter, recaption, get a tattoo, eat a piece of cake, scratch your butt. Honestly, I don’t care. Have fun.
The original hag (there’s a bigger version of that somewhere, used in the picture above, but I can’t find it), the one for the election poster, the election poster, big and in color (this is the only one I have in a much higher res version, if you want it for anything), with a walker, derping, as Kang (of Kang and Kodos), as Queen Elizabeth I, as Humpty Dumpty, more derping, with a beard, taking a bite out of her blackberry, Hillary Clinton.Δ16, lizard woman.
There may be more, but that’s all I could find in a Google images search (anything but fire up Adobe Bridge).
July 28, 2016 — 8:00 pm
Heyyyyyy wait, that’s only eight! I was robbed, random internet article!
I know what you’re thinking: what is that there purty Satan bird with the wicked horns and where can I get me one of them? From the link, I guess it’s either an Appenzeller, Crevecoeur, Houdan, La Fleche or Sultan. Yeah, I dunno either.
Not obvious in the picture: the strawberry comb is more of a raspberry comb, with a deep indentation in the middle. Couldn’t help thinking about all the shit that would get in there and get infected and stuff.
Chickens have the best resting bitchfaces in the aminal kingdom, don’t they?
The Labour Party is descending into farce. Jeremy Corbyn is a bugfuck-crazy Marxist Bernie Sanders type. He won party leadership by a huge margin because the chirruns love him, but he’s electoral poison. The other Labour MP’s have tried in vain to kick him out of the nest, so they put his deputy up to run against him for leadership. In fact, they weren’t even going to put his name on the ballot at all, but they lost their nerve on that. The chirruns would kill them. They’re already throwing bricks through his challenger’s headquarters window.
I’d enjoy the hell out of this if the Tories weren’t such shit right now.
See? I’ll make you beg for chikken blogging!
July 12, 2016 — 9:40 pm
Ladies and gentlemen, our new Prime Minister. After a firehose of yellow journalism was turned on any competitors until they all dropped out, there will not even be a vote of the party faithful. She will be installed this week.
By way of introduction, this is the woman who coined the term “the nasty party” for her own party — and it wasn’t a compliment. She often sounds more Labour than Tory. She speaks approvingly of taxes as “the price we pay to live in a civilized society” (like they don’t pay taxes in the world’s shit-holes). She’s been our Home Secretary for the past six years, and has made a reputation as an appeaser and squish.
In short, a dreadful choice.
And my bike is still busted. But my new video card is on the way!
July 11, 2016 — 9:57 pm
One law for them, one for us.
July 5, 2016 — 9:13 pm
Sorry, y’all — I had a fridge emergency tonight. We’ve been quietly nurturing an iceberg at the back of the box (apparently!) that finally grew to engulf the drain plug. tl;dr I had to clean and defrost the fridge in a hurry tonight. We didnae lose any American bacon, though, so that’s okay (so precious and hard to get).
So today’s big political WTF moment — Boris Johnson, our next Prime Minister, dropped out of the race today. Rumor has it, he was knifed by his buddy and fellow-Brexiteer, Micheal Gove. For those who don’t follow British politics, that’s dude on the right knifed by dude on the left.
You can read the Telegraph’s take here, which is where I pinched the photo. There’s something more to this one, though, I feel sure. It’s not the same magnitude as if Hillary! suddenly dropped out without explanation, but it’s the same kind of hell no this doesn’t make sense.
Not that I was a fan of Boris — I warn’t — but it’s just too weird. Some kind of dirt on him, I suspect. There’s plenty, I’m told.
Now the odds-on favorite to get the job is Theresa May, a dreadful woman. Anti-Brexit, soft on immigration. She’s been a terrible Home Secretary and she’ll be a worse PM. The grass roots hate her — but her fellow MPs love her, and that’s all it takes.
The exact opposite of what’s going on with Labour, where the party members love Corbyn but his fellow MPs think he’s a disaster.
What the hell, British politics?
June 30, 2016 — 10:42 pm
Saturday we went to an airshow. Well, no. Not an airshow, really. A small country show at a little airfield way out in the boonies. We ran ahead of a terrible storm the whole way getting there, paid our £5 to get in, just started a wander round and the heavens opened. I mean, pissing down with rain.
Uncle B and I got separated and I was zipped into a tent with a man selling WWII memorabilia. I passed over the spiffy Nazi dress dagger in favor of this teapot. It celebrates Victory over Hitlerism and it’s chipped so I probably overpaid, but it seemed like a thing I had to buy right then.
The media here is still losing their freaking minds over Brexit. Ditto the political classes. I don’t think there’s any way they can roll it back without facing a wall of torches and pitchforks, but they’re going to give it the old college try.
In and among the wailing and gnashing of teeth, there are some good articles, too. Like this one from the Spectator. I particularly like calling the opposition Remainders. Remainiacs sounds ooo scary and dangerous and powerful. Remainders sound like leftovers.
In the end, the rain stopped (for a while) and some planes got up. In the half hour before the heavens opened again, Uncle B got some spectacular shots of prop planes against enormous banks of cloud. And then it rained again.
I love heavy weather. Just as well, really.
June 27, 2016 — 9:28 pm
“Hello friends!” Yeah, I found this pretty girl on a bad taxidermy site. Duh. I wasn’t actually looking for bad taxidermy, I was looking for nice pictures of weasels (as you do).
Like this one. That tumblr claims ‘mustela’ means ‘long mouse’. I can see that.
I absolutely freaking hate politics at the moment, so I’ve been avoiding the whole thing in favor of chicken blogging. I hate every single one of the candidates, I hate all the issues. I hate that the infighting is nastier than the outfighting. I’m going to hate the next POTUS. Oh, and I have a sneaking suspicion Britain is staying in the EU, which I hate.
When it comes to politics, I consider myself a happy poo-flinging monkey. And I am not happy right now.
April 18, 2016 — 10:02 pm
This thing: hugely controversial mailer the gov’t has sent around to every household in Britain. Controversial not least because it cost umpty-ump million pounds to print (and the printer was German).
Excuse brevity. My keyboard was getting gummy, so I made the hugely boneheaded decision to try and clean it up Sunday afternoon. I have completely lost the period key (I’m using the one on the numpad) and intermittently missing right shift, comma, spacebar and enter. The rest of the keys work just fine if you bang them like a gorilla.
This makes typing ever so much fun. I have a new one on order, but it won’t be here before tomorrow, at the very earliest.
April 11, 2016 — 7:58 pm
The urge to write “now, some of my best friends…” or “of course, what happens between two consenting adults…” or “well, I’m surely no prude…” is powerful. The instinct to conform to the zeitgeist is mighty and, these days, the consequences of stepping out of line can be swift and severe.
But I’m not going to do that because I’m angry.
This is not their job. They’re my bank. We have a business relationship. They’re supposed to do things that appeal to me as a customer, not lecture me on social justice. There is a lot — I mean a real lot — of this going on in advertising over here at the moment. Please god we’re reaching peak SJW.
Related: this guy says he invented the term “virtue signalling” and tracks its spread.
March 16, 2016 — 10:48 pm