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Turkey ’bout done

turkey

When I went picture shopping, the caption to the Obama image was like “The President sheds a tear over…” and I didn’t even click the link to find out “over what.” I had a frisson of delight thinking — oh, I know. President Trump will let us down in a thousand ways — but it will surely be a long, long time before we see a president boo-hoo in public over anything again.

I haven’t forgotten — Leaky George Bush started it. And let’s not think about John Boehner.

Hope your turkey was de-lightful. Ours isn’t done yet — we do Thanksgiving as a midnight meal. With champagne. It’s a tradition. Hey, you move to a foreign country, you get to make all this ancient traditional shit up.

That’s a few hours yet, so I’m just boiling the sweet patooties (preparatory to candying) and pre-soaking the dressing. In butter. Last of the imported Pepperidge Farm. Man, I love this holiday.

p.s. We are totally stoked — we just heard a real, live owl going HOO HOO HOOOOOO in the back garden!

p.p.s. Oh, yeah – and I arrived in the UK for keeps Thanksgiving 2008. Eight years of limey goodness. T’day was the 27th that year — the 24th, the movers came and sucked all my worldly goods out the front door. May I never witness such a thing again!

November 24, 2016 — 9:03 pm
Comments: 18

Funny, I had no problem…

spider

Did I ever tell you my spider story? I was a kid, watching the tube with my mother, when a big fat spider skittered across the wood floor in the blue light of the TV. We were both arachnophobes (I caught it off her, probably). So I bravely grabbed a can of Coke and smished it.

And five hundred tiny baby spiders came boiling out in all directions.

November 22, 2016 — 7:55 pm
Comments: 15

Now, how do I change the subject?

xylophone

Ah, yes…chickens playing the xylophone. No, no link. Unfortunately, it’s a FaceBook video — I refuse to link to ’em, and I can’t find this particular video elsewhere. Never mind. If you enter “chickens xylophone” into YouTube, you will find literally minutes of wholesome entertainment.

Chickens like sounds. They will return again and again to peck things that have no food value but make an interesting noise, like empty buckets, wooden gates or my banjo.

So anyway, I have thoroughly enjoyed the political salt storm this week. I intend to continue enjoying (and probably posting about it) for some time to come. But, let’s face it, it’s politics — if you get pulled in too far, it will always break your heart.

No hostages to fortune.


p.s. Tell me electric blanket stories. We bought an expensive one last year, got a whole luxuriant season out of it, fired it up this year and…control burnout. To be fair, I think the big fat cat napping on it during the heat-up cycle tripped the heat sensor — but it’s a lousy failsafe design that permanently breaks when overheated. Any advice?

November 14, 2016 — 7:25 pm
Comments: 19

Spare a thought for me…

Do you have ANY IDEA how hard it’s going to be to act sad today?

Sadly, my neighbors and co-workers weren’t nearly as salty as I expected. All kinds of hostility in the run-up to the election, and now just a little languid and fatalistic moo.

But social media — that’s a different story. I have wasted (!) most of the day enjoying the beautiful deluge of salt on Twitter, Facebook, and the rest. O frabjous day!

It surely is dawning on EVERYONE, EVERYWHERE that we have been incredibly badly served by the media and pollsters (not counting Drudge).

Trump may well make a lousy president, but he has well and truly smashed the Clinton Machine forever. And for that, my gratitude.

November 9, 2016 — 8:39 am
Comments: 48

Shit. It came.

ballot

I sent off for my ballot pretty late this year. I think I had a subconscious wish it wouldn’t get here, or get here too late, or arrive with Ronald Reagan’s name miraculously appearing at the top of the list or something.

But no. It came. And just look at this thing! I don’t remember the absentee ballot being this complicated before. It’s like taking the SAT’s.

There’s a sheet with all the candidates names on, and a number beside each ticket. You look up the number and fill in the corresponding oval on the oval thingie. Why the numbers go up to three hundred something, I have yet to discover. I lost the will to vote before I quite finished reading the instructions.

I think what I’ll do is get up early, spread the candidate list in front of the chickens and see which ticket they peck first. Though, between you and me, I think that Colette Chicken might be a dirty Hillary voter.

October 26, 2016 — 9:02 pm
Comments: 14

Police seek suspect in venetian blind theft

blinds

ZOMG, I can’t stop sniggering. Yes, that’s really what you’re looking at here: a daring daylight venetian blind robbery. Dudley is a suburb of Birmingham, BTW.

If you follow local papers — and you know I do — you can’t help but notice the percentage of crime perpetrated by people who are…not genetically English. (I have to be careful here. An indelicate word, especially on social media, could land me in a world of hurt).

Unlike the US, this country has only seen a major influx of immigration in the last fifty years or so. It was pretty monocultural before that. As you might expect from such a rapid population shift, the integration isn’t going that great. The only way they’re keeping a lid on major discontent is to bring the full weight of the authorities down on anyone who dares to notice.

Hard to see that as an effective long-term solution.

October 20, 2016 — 7:42 pm
Comments: 10

Hey Bill – you better get some ice for that

iceonthat

Drudge put these two pictures together and I wanted to nail them to posterity. I had to look it up to confirm Broaddrick was the ice for that lady.

In interviews with the Washington Post, Broaddrick said Clinton encouraged her to call his campaign office when she was in Little Rock. She did that and set up a coffee meeting with Clinton at her hotel. According to Broaddrick, Clinton told her there were too many reporters in the lobby of the hotel so they should have coffee in her room.

She said she ordered coffee and let him in her room. This is what she told the Post back in 1999:

“As she tells the story, they spent only a few minutes chatting by the window — Clinton pointed to an old jail he wanted to renovate if he became governor — before he began kissing her. She resisted his advances, she said, but soon he pulled her back onto the bed and forcibly had sex with her. She said she did not scream because everything happened so quickly. Her upper lip was bruised and swollen after the encounter because, she said, he had grabbed onto it with his mouth.

” ‘The last thing he said to me was, “You better get some ice for that.” And he put on his sunglasses and walked out the door,’ she recalled.”

I’m not a general fan of feminist revenge porn, but that image of him putting on his sunglasses* and snarking at her has stuck with me. This picture is the perfect antidote.

*usually referred to as “Puts on Sunglasses”, is the ASCII-interpretation of the popular C.S.I. multipane comics featuring Lt. Horatio Caine (played by David Caruso), the protagonist character in the popular police procedural show Crime Scene Investigation: Miami.

(•_•)
( •_•)>⌐■-■
(⌐■_■)

Origin
In 2002, CSI: Miami, an American police procedural television series on CBS first aired. In the show, The lead Crime Scene Investigator (who always wears sunglasses) usually makes some horrible pun at the beginning of the show on how the victim died, puts on his sunglasses, and then the theme song (which is Won’t Get Fooled Again by The Who) plays, always at the part where the singer goes “YYEEAAHH!”

No, I didn’t watch the debate. But then, I never do. I have too much personal stagefright – I’m terrified I’ll see somebody throw up or shit himself. I can always catch it in the replay, when everybody already knows what’s going to happen.

October 10, 2016 — 7:05 pm
Comments: 9

Pff! Guys, she’s fine. See?

zombiehillary

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.

sock it to me

September 12, 2016 — 8:09 pm
Comments: 14

I love this

hillaryposter

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).

sock it to me

July 28, 2016 — 8:00 pm
Comments: 9

The 9 types of combs recognized by the American Poultry Association

combs

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!

sock it to me

July 12, 2016 — 9:40 pm
Comments: 13