Democrats turn the Brett Kavanaugh spectacle into their version of a boring football game.

My image of football fans was once considerably different than it is now.

I used to think of them as virile, manly, militaristic right-wing types. Maybe this held true once upon a time. Not anymore, at least based on my observations. Today’s football fans are a bunch of lefty types: lesbo feminazis, coal-burning open border types and simpering normies who play quarterback for their wives behind bedroom doors. Football fans are a sorry lot in 2018.

So it should comes as no surprise that the Democratic delaying motif to run out the clock before Brett Kavanaugh’s Supreme Court hearings resounds of today’s football mentality.

 

Familiar, no?

As the play clock speeds toward zero, the game hits a wall.

Time outs ensue, agonizing formalities contrived as boring strategy overtake the “excitement” of the game. Tension is muffled, thwarted behind the guise of microscopic deconstruction of all elements of this overgrown baby’s game. Self-importance treads sleepily over the gridiron as the clock runs for 5 seconds, then stops for another few minutes of prolonged trivialities, then runs for another 3 seconds before the next time out and break in play torments.

Lefties love this shit in their sport, and now they are wallowing in a similar time-devouring strategy with their transparently obvious attempts to push Kavanaugh’s hearings back and back and back.

“Time out” they yell.

Kavanaugh acted like a horny college student 30 years ago! Let’s stop these hearings at the 40-yard-line so we can study the instant replay and relive all the lurid, embarrassing details, today.

After all, when it comes to football…the game doesn’t always go on.

 

 

 

**archive**

The Anatomy of a Meme

I encountered a meme the other day that struck me as uniquely hilarious. I suspect many people might not share the same intensity of amusement that it evoked in me, but I think it is genius. It is an extraordinary meme. I long to strike the ironic goldmine like this one day with my own. One day.

 

 

I consider this a “template” meme that is expandable in the respect its interchangeable text can be overlaid over any photograph. When such a meme presents itself, the outrageous possibilities are simply endless and I can’t stop ruminating over them all as they present themselves during my daily existence.

In this case, the meme as applied to Chihuahuas is uncannily accurate.   The subtle description of the little shit dog’s simmering, tyrannical eyes, betrayed by the trembling nervousness of its runt body is magnificently described by this meme.  A living, fuming canine dichotomy, beautifully presented with the utmost minimalism.

So how could I ruin this meme with my own take?

At first I thought of something like this.

 

Actually, I think this is somewhat clever.  Up to a point.

It’s a bit cluttered, complicated, overextended.  While amusing, it neglects the gist of the original meme.  The power of the meme is not percentages or the arbitrary pie chart motif.

The power is the encapsulation of dualism laid out in a simplistic but searing 50% measure of two competing ironies.

Alas, the meme does not draw its strength from detailed description or allocation.  That becomes a boring game of absurd statistics.

This meme’s power is its ability to showcase the antagonistic schism present in the subject.

Not to over-think (under-think?), but this Homeless Black Dude on the Train meme is better portrayed as such:

 

 

Better.  Not perfect, or even excellent. My irony isn’t as sharp or searing as I’d like, But one day, while I’m walking along the street, the perfect vision of the Anatomy meme may dawn on me.

And you’ll see it here, first.

It’s not Brett Kavanaugh who is under scrutiny; it is the folly of our youth, including all John Hughes movies.

Christine Blasey Ford, typical 1980’s college co-ed whore, living out her youthful folly, found herself in a typical early-80s scenario in which booze flowed, hormones reigned, and common sense were departed, for everyone, not only for the future hand-wringing righteous crowd.

And now she has drawn Supreme Court nominee, Brett Kavanaugh, into her pathetic Leftist-Puritan ball of scorn.

 

Speaking publicly for the first time, Ford said that one summer in the early 1980s, Kavanaugh and a friend — both ‘‘stumbling drunk,’’ Ford alleges — corralled her into a bedroom during a gathering of teenagers at a house in Montgomery County.

While his friend watched, she said, Kavanaugh pinned her to a bed on her back and groped her over her clothes, grinding his body against hers and clumsily attempting to pull off her one-piece bathing suit and the clothing she wore over it. When she tried to scream, she said, he put his hand over her mouth.

Ford said she was able to escape when Kavanaugh’s friend and classmate at Georgetown Preparatory School, Mark Judge, jumped on top of them, sending all three tumbling. She said she ran from the room, briefly locked herself in a bathroom, then fled the house.

 

Early 1980’s.

I’m the same age as Kavanaugh, I’m from his, and Ford’s, era. She is describing the unremarkably inept, drunken, sloppy entry-level sex we all attempted to clumsily initiate at that age. We were young, and most of us, pretty stupid.

 

 

Each and every one of our lives played out like a ridiculous John Hughes movie.   Whether it’s Mark Judge or Judge Reinhold, one fact remains:  we were young, in body and mind.

Mrs. Ford, though “respectable and dignified” now, was every bit the drunken, slutty tramp back in 1983 or 1984 as was Kavanaugh the rambunctious,  beer-chugging frat boy.  Big deal.  Give me something new, give me something good.  Not this dreary, mundane 1980’s Gen X garbage, regurgitated 30 years later, to be newly and conveniently construed as an indictment of a man’s character.

Let’s just say it’s a good thing I’m not in the running for Supreme Court judge…

 

 

 

Senile Singer condescends at Mad Captain. Will this rust just please go to sleep and shut up?

It’s better to burn out than to fade away…

 

It appears that the oldest wave of over-aged Boomer rockers didn’t pay much heed to Neil Young.

Old, withered, sunken-faced, hobbled, those old fucks pretend to be vital and noteworthy in 2018.

Even this limey POS.

 

 

And to make matters worse, they presume to possess an iota of relevance in America’s cultural scene, musical or political.

 

“People who deny climate change… I just think it’s the most stupid thing ever,” McCartney, reveals to the BBC.

“So, I just wanted to make a song that would talk about that and basically say, ‘Occasionally, we’ve got a mad captain sailing this boat we’re all on and he is just going to take us to the iceberg [despite] being warned it’s not a cool idea.’”

And just who could the “Mad Captain” be?

“Obviously it’s Trump,” McCartney says before adding, “but there’s plenty of them about. He’s not the only one.”

 

It never fails.

Intersectionality of the Third Kind in Hialeah

Here’s a  dystopic little incident that occurred Wednesday in Hialeah. It is a failure on so many levels that we are left wondering what this shitshow indicts, exactly.  Too many choices baffle the mind’s coherence.

 

 

The incident happened on Wednesday night, when Alexandria Montgomery was trying to place an order — in English — at a Taco Bell drive thru window at 785 East Ninth St. The employee refused to take her order because she wasn’t speaking Spanish.

In the video, which was posted Thursday night, Montgomery asked the annoyed woman, “Do you have a manager here?”

“She is in her house sleeping,” the employee replied in Spanish in a dismissive tone. There was no one else to take the order, the employee claimed.

Taco Bell Corp. told el Nuevo Herald that “this does not meet our customer service expectations.”

“We have worked quickly to resolve with the customer to ensure this doesn’t happen again,” a spokesperson said.

In an update Montgomery made hours later, she added that “Luisa,” as the Taco Bell employee identified herself, had been fired and that it was not even her real name.

In a later statement, Taco Bell confirmed: “This individual no longer works for the brand.”

 

This is an example of “intersectionality” gone off the rails.

We are one tremendous, bloated blend of ingredients that fuse into one grand melange, a mushy morass of incompatibility, confusion and disjointed co-existence.

Indictments?  The possibilities are many.

  • Concerted anti-Black racism on the part of the Taco Bell employees
  • Concerted racism on the part of Taco Bell employees against any non-Hispanic
  • Inability of an American food chain to staff a crew with at least one English-speaking employee…on American soil.
  • Inability to maintain a minimum standard of living in this country due to the inability to speak anything other than English
  • All of the above

I choose the last option.  This is an example of everything that is wrong in America.  As the Black girl pointed out, the employee could easily have worked off menu item numbers and the touch screen but she refused.  If it had been a non-Spanish speaking Hispanic (ie, yours truly), I’m sure they would have made a special “allowance.”

English needs to be our standard American language and inability to speak the language of the land is not our problem, as Americans, and accommodation should be purely voluntary and businesses should be allowed to defray the costs of any special language branding onto customers requiring non-English help.

Whatever the case, it does not bode well for our national future.  Especially when our youth and future “statesmen” appear to have no qualms whatsoever about importing as much chaos as possible into the United States.