sweasel.com

Meh. Par for the course for that peasant….

BTW, I found you a new desktop pic…

http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/0996419a-43a5-4d07-a54a-2d8f2f0d3c3e.jpg

What else would one expect from somebody with all the class of the Head Nagger What’s in Charge? Not to mention the Head Wookie Moochelle…

Eep, Scoob. Makes me nervous as hell when people let cats play with mice or chicks or…you know, natural food items.

I had a traumatic experience as a child involving my beloved pussycat and a box of adorable baby bunnies.

I heard a tiny sound bite of his speech—maybe it was from the toast, I dunno—and, again, I couldn’t believe THIS is the guy everyone said was such a great speaker
He sounded tired, distracted, uninterested, like he was reading a shopping list.
Course, he never sounded that good, to me. I’ll take a prez who can’t say “nuclear” over one who can’t pronounce “corpsman”.

And, I had to spend the last two weeks shooing my cat away from the nest some dumb bird built in our potted ficus tree. The baby, fully feathered, finally disappeared. I like to believe it flew away, since the cat usually puts her prizes in the bathtub.

this is the guy that shipped Churchill bust back to jolly old England and then has the oddASSity to quote the man.

blubbering fool that he is.

I had a traumatic experience as a child involving my beloved pussycat and a box of adorable baby bunnies.

I did too!
I always thought bunnies weren’t omnivores, but now I know better. I think it has something to do with the pack mentality. Keep them separated and it’s usually ok.

BTW.
Obama’s a lesbian.

Oh, I had another traumatic experience as a teenager with cannibal adorable baby bunnies. Who knew they’d do that if they didn’t have a big enough cage?

Nature. Feh.

Damn. Sounds like you have need of the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch…..

Huh, looks like the queen has more balls than das Führer. I mean, we already knew THAT. But now, we have evidence. Oh wait…. yep, Had that already too.

That picture is funny as hell, I’m going to laugh all day!

Thank you, JohnT. I crack myself up, but the feeling isn’t always universal 🙂

Alternative caption:
Gibs me tha bling matafacka or I’ll cap yo azz, ho.

I am, to put it absurdly mildly, not a fan of the monarchs of any shade however I readily admit that Her Maj wins in a contest with her successor by 6 corgi lengths. I suspect that it is partly why she so stubbornly clings to the mortal coil, to delay the bitterness of such a failure that sprung from her very own loins.
You Brits think you have it bad now, wait until Prince Fern-Sniffer and Geranium Conversationalist ascends to the gilded throne. There may be a neo-Fawkesian plot to install the benevolent Guy de Lombard, Le Conte de Visconte to save the remnants of the erstwhile glory of late XXth Century. Tommy Blare will be portrayed as statesman. Robbie Williams will be the New Bard of England.

What made the tiny genetic pool of Britisher Islanders so successful in colonizing large real estate inhabited by natives wearing grass skirts and brandishing sticks is commonly misunderstood.
It was not The Navy, or muskets, or Sandhurst trained cadre. Plenty of nations had perfectly comparable equivalents.
It was the contempt for the indigenes that did it, mixed with Britisher sooperyoritie complexe that gave the edge to the Team Blimey.
Now that it’s gone, presumably for good, The Britisher Navy (tweedy flat cap in hand) asks for the US assets to pull the stranded from Libya. And I am sure we see but a tiny tip of what is going on.

That Obangwa acted like a cad to a senior citizen with entitlement issues is positively no surprise to anyone who has not drank hopeychangy Koolaid. I am somewhat disappointed that someone younger and gutsier in the House of Windsor (Prince Harry? Pippin Middleton?) did not give the visiting Hyphenated-Americans something that they would enjoy and put to good use, something that would bolster the sagging street cred in the Soufside.
Maybe a rhinestone-studded ostrich bone to wear in the septum? Faberge lip plate? chrome-rim signal drums? Waterford waddymelun holder?

No wonder Tha Preznit be miffed, he git no r.e.s.p.e.s.t.c

It is explicitly against the law for the monarch to wed a Catholic. Prince Banana’s wife is a Catholic.

Nobody knows how this will play out.

Can you run a replay of the Eddie and Wallis thing? puh-LEEZE?

When Charles married Camilla, there was speculation it meant the throne would pass directly to William. Then everybody shut up about it. Perhaps it was considered unseemly to hypothetical the death of the Queen (I haven’t quite got the hang of this “subject” thing).

Though Britain doesn’t have a single, explicit written constitution, the body of laws taken together is regarded as a constitution. And this law is serious enough that I had to learn it for my Life in the UK test.

So, assuming he outlives his mother, this could spark a constitutional crisis.

A constitutional crisis over religion sounds so QUAINT. Unless it’s about shari’ah.

It won’t be a constitutional crisis about religion. It’ll be a constitutional crisis because 90 per cent of us think jug ears is a complete and utter twat.

For UB:
It’s not nice to talk that way about poor ol’ Camilla!

MM 🙂

This clown could fuck up a wet dream.

“…90 per cent of us think jug ears is a complete and utter twat.”

There’s hope yet for England!

Are you talking about your jug-eared prince or our jug-eared president?

Seeing as both of them are complete and utter twats.

Looking at the picture, what is that thing on the left side of the dress? It could be a NSDAP badge pinned by this prankster Wills. It is probably just a valve where they attach the air hose to pump up this inflatable decoy once it’s pulled out of the mothballs to be driven around while the arm waves to the subjects.

Verily I say unto you my brethren, watching Barakaka Soetdurkah-Durkah Hussein Jihad abuse the hospitality of the erstwhile administrators of Uganda reminds me of the fun I had while listening to the Japs invade Germany back in 1929 when I was just a wee lad.

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