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Dead Pool Round 156: Dog Days of August Edition

Dissent555 takes it with Clu Gulager. The name only vaguely rang a bell, but – holy shit, he’s been in a lot of things! From 1956 to 2019, a pretty long career. I’ve seen him in dozens of movies and TV shows. And so have you. He was 94.

Are we sitting comfortably with a cool beverage? Then we’ll begin:

0. Rule Zero (AKA Steve’s Rule): your pick has to be living when picked. Also, nobody whose execution date is circled on the calendar. Also, please don’t kill anybody. Plus (Pupster’s Rule) no picking someone who’s only famous for being the oldest person alive.

1. Pick a celebrity. Any celebrity — though I reserve the right to nix picks I never heard of (I don’t generally follow the Dead Pool threads carefully, so if you’re unsure of your pick, call it to my attention).

2. We start from scratch every time. No matter who you had last time, or who you may have called between rounds, you have to turn up on this very thread and stake your claim.

3. Poaching and other dirty tricks positively encouraged.

4. Your first choice sticks. Don’t just blurt something out, m’kay? Also, make sure you have a correct spelling of your choice somewhere in your comment. These threads get longish and I use search to figure out if we have a winner.

5. It’s up to you to search the thread and make sure your choice is unique. I’m waayyyy too lazy to catch the dupes. Popular picks go fast.

6. The pool stays open until somebody on the list dies. Feel free to jump in any time. Noobs, strangers, drive-bys and one-comment-wonders — all are welcome.

7. If you want your fabulous prize, you have to entrust me with a mailing address. If you’ve won before, send me your address again. I don’t keep good records.

8. The new DeadPool will begin 6pm WBT (Weasel’s Blog Time) the Friday after the last round is concluded.

The winner, if the winner chooses to entrust me with a mailing address, will receive an Official Certificate of Dick Winning and a small original drawing on paper suffused with elephant shit particles. Because I’m fresh out of fairy shit particles.

August 19, 2022 — 6:00 pm
Comments: 24

But, alas, I’m not qualified

Ever since the Atlantic printed that rosaries are associated with extremism, they’ve been flying off the shelves.

True story: I once seriously considered joining the Confraternity of the Rosary.

I liked the idea of making a lifetime commitment to an act of personal discipline. You vow to say a full rosary at least once a week, if not daily. I think repetitive prayers work like meditation on the brain and are good for you in the same way.

Plus, when you are in the Confraternity, you get: “A share during life, and even after death, in all the good works and prayers of the members of the Confraternity” and also the entire Dominican Order. So it’s like a giant feedback loop of goodness.

Problem is, I’m not a Catholic. A pretty strong requirement. I’m not even a believer. I don’t even believe in vibes, auras or karma. Or aliens or ghosts. My spiritual antenna got snapped off in a tragic accident.


Dead Pool tomorrow! Lest you forget…

August 18, 2022 — 7:31 pm
Comments: 5

This guy!

Excuse late, I’ve been chasing a chicken ’round and ’round a sheep field.

Occasionally, one of my birds pops through the double fence and finds itself in the field next door. This is bad. They frequently can’t find their way back and, isolated from the flock, they’re very likely to get picked off silently by something carnivorous. So when somebody doesn’t turn up at roll call, that’s where I look first.

Unfortunately, it was Sam – my quickest and nimblest chicken. Bastard ran me ragged.

Worse, we’ve had thunderstorms all day. Every time I ducked under a hawthorn, it pissed down my back. Worse yet, I finally cornered him in a patch of stinging nettles. Yes, I was wearing shorts.

My shins are alive with the sound of music.

So I’ve had a hot bath and a cold gin and I’m off. Stupid rooster. Yes, he’s fine. Wet and sorry for himself, like me.

August 17, 2022 — 7:49 pm
Comments: 5

Go home, grandma – you’re embarrassing me

This is Carolyn Maloney, politician. She was mentioned in a Breitbart article today. I don’t know anything about her, but she’s a Democrat from New York, so hisssss. I’m here to be cruel about her fashion choices.

Why do older female public figures do this look? See it in color. Blonde hair, red lipstick, glommy eyelashes. She doesn’t look like a young woman, she looks like the mummified corpse of a young woman left out in the sun.

I won’t say it’s only Democrat women who do this, but they’re the ones that come to mind: Hillary, Barbara Walters, Nancy (except not blonde).

Maloney is 76. That’s about the median age of my group of friends (why am I always the youngest in my social circle?). A couple of them color their hair. There are some smart dressers and some more casual, but they all look age-appropriate like the tasteful old ladies they are.

Why would a woman seeking power aspire to look like a bimbo, anyway? If I wanted to rule the world, I’d go to my stylist and say, “make me look mean. Like, BIG mean.” Like, pull my gray hair back in a mean ol’ bun and give me a mean ol’ Hugo Boss greatcoat and a riding crop. I want to look like a Bond villain.

I’d vote for that in an old woman.

August 16, 2022 — 7:42 pm
Comments: 10

I made a thing!

Flushed with the success of my terrarium (yes, thank you – it’s looking really good) I decided to try my hand at a moss garden.

I really love moss. We have a lot of it (this being England) and I tried to start a moss garden when we first moved here, but it turned out to be an unusually dry year and I was thwarted before I really began.

I had some moss left over from the terrarium project that I’ve been spritzing on the daily, so I thought I’d give it another shot.

Yes, you’re looking at a fern, a clump of moss and some rocks. It’s art, dammit!

It’s in a nice vintage 3-legged French terra cotta pot I snagged off Etsy, though, so if the garden fails, I have a nifty fruit bowl.

August 15, 2022 — 7:04 pm
Comments: 4

HOW many canada geese?

No, not that many canada geese. THIS many canada geese. And more. That field is about a mile long and it was geese the whole way.

Yeah, I know, these things don’t translate well to snapshots. The original picture was nearly twice this size, but WordPress automatically scaled it down and it doesn’t appear I can stop it from doing that.

 

ExpressoBold Dissent555 takes the dick with Clu Galager. I barely remember the name, but he was in a thousand programs, so…fair pick. But I deemed it too late to queue up another Dead Pool. I like for y’all to simmer in your own juices for a few days.

I know…everyone wanted Anne Heche, but that’s going to be a tough one. She has already been declared brain dead, but they’re keeping her on life support for her organs. As if.

So, new Dead Pool next Friday and have a great weekend!

August 12, 2022 — 7:10 pm
Comments: 12

Hot-hot-hot

Still hot as blazes here. I mean, for England. High eighties every day, but we’ve had fairly low humidity so it hasn’t been too unpleasant. Nice breath of wind by the harbor (pictured).

The real problem is, we haven’t had any rain in weeks and weeks and weeks.
 

 

Sorry…I was hanging back waiting for the Garland presser. What the hell was that? I feel like I’ve been rick-rolled.

I’m going for a gin.

August 11, 2022 — 7:30 pm
Comments: 16

Help wanted

 

 

The job advertisement at right has been on the IRS site since February, but it bubbled up into the Twittersphere today and got so much attention it’s fallen over or been taken down.

It’s for special agents in their Criminal Enforcement Division, so presumably a small part of their workforce.

But why do they need their own law enforcement agents? Why not pass enforcement matters over to existing law enforcement agencies?

Rhetorical.

Don’t worry – they can’t possibly hire 87,000 of these. Where would they find 87,000 fit Americans willing to work 50 hours a week for $50K? As IRS employees?
 

 

August 10, 2022 — 7:22 pm
Comments: 9

‘Merica!

Also from this weekend’s village fete, this little slice of Americana. I’ve never understood why the front forks don’t just snap. I guess all the weight is at the back.

I’ve been stuck in a Zoom meeting all evening. Yes, we still do those. Everybody’s decided they’d rather debate in their skivvies of an evening than drag themselves to the office for a morning meeting. And who can blame them?

So, anything happen in the United Banana Republic of America today?

p.s. I feel honor bound to state for the record that Uncle B did *not* inherit the cross-dressing gene.

August 9, 2022 — 7:44 pm
Comments: 8

I got all excited :(

We saw this logo on a van on the way into a village fair this weekend. Turns out, it had nothing to do with mustelids.

It was two young men dressed as cleaning ladies who made a campy fuss dusting off the tea area. Don’t ask me, I just live here.

I don’t think it was any kind of progressive gender bending, just an English thing. The English have the cross-dressing gene bad.

August 8, 2022 — 7:08 pm
Comments: 9