Monday, August 31, 2009

The People Of WalMart

Look, when I next move
I will not live more than
50 miles from a
SuperWalMart (currently banned in California),
but that don't make this any less true.
Or this
Or this.
You're on your own now, luvvy.

This Is Depressing:

Forecast: Schools Open.

We don't get no stinkin' snow days. Could I get a smoke day?
Yeah, Blanchette and I took the pics from up the mtn across the valley.

Last year's pics here.

Hanging From A Lamppost


Thanks, Jonah. Best to your mom.

The Original Che

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Toys for gurlz.

Thursday, August 27, 2009


Perhaps The Most Idiotic "Debate" Ever

Can't get enough of this father of five. Ever seen his youth-speedo pics? Here, I'll include 'em. No wonder Mrs. Other McCain seems contenta.

I'm not saying I'm gaying when I mention his speedo pics, I'm just saying not every guy can don the speedo and get away with it. Obviously the young Other McCain can/could.

I'm in favor of foreskining myself, but (tmi) I'm cut and it's -- oh never mind. (Pics available on request.) Heh. Still, Mr. Other McCain makes me laugh out loud every day, no less so when he speaks of penis's, and moreso when he addresses Der Beagle's sad and sorry opinion on any/everything. Sully: cuddle up with your hubby and hush now, willya?

TOMcC is a prophet, fo sho.
Grab a cup of STFU, you foreskin-fascinated freaks! By your folly you are in danger of inciting wrath such as befell the residents Shalem, when Shechem the son of Hamor the Hivite offended Levi and Simeon by shamefully mistreating their sister, Jacob and Leah's daughter Dinah.

Somehow, that old story seems relevant. Look it up, heathen -- and beware!
What did Isaiah say? Oh yeah: All flesh is grass.
Der Beagle Update: from PTown 9/11/09

Sincere And Yes, Classy

Despite years of bitter partisan attacks from the fat lecherous old drunk, the Bush style reminds us of how to treat one another.
Hope to learn this myself. Perhaps tomorrow.
Besides his personal call to the bereaved Vicki Kennedy:

George W. Bush said in a statement:
"Laura and I are saddened by the death of Sen. Ted Kennedy. We extend our condolences and prayers to Sen. Kennedy’s wife, Vicki, and all of their family.

Ted Kennedy spent more than half his life in the United States Senate. He was a man of passion who advocated fiercely for his convictions. I was pleased to work with Sen. Kennedy on legislation to raise standards in public schools, reform immigration and ensure dignity and fair treatment for Americans suffering from mental illness.

In a life filled with trials, Ted Kennedy never gave in to self-pity or despair. He maintained his optimistic spirit, his sense of humor and his faith in his fellow citizens. He loved his family and his country — and he served them until the end. He will be deeply missed."
Acoupla appropriate fibs, some tipping of the hat, a nod to the family; that's how to do it.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

My Penis Reduction Surgery Is Scheduled

So On his radio show Dennis Miller is speaking of Chuck Norris, noting that Chuck Norris's genitalia is SO BIG that it has its own genitalia; and further, Chuck Norris's genitalia's genitalia is bigger than your genitalia...
Just thinking you should know that.
I thank Dennis.
You may thank me.
We all thank Chuck Norris.

That All?

According to a Turner research report,
the average person watched a whopping
32.2 hours of TV per week this summer.
In 2004, the average number of TV hours
viewed during the summer was 29.8.

Me? Didn't watch any for about 6 weeks. Catching up now, though.

I Was So Tired

If you wade (yes) through the 8-foot deep NYTimes obit (no I won't link, find it yourself) you'll find the only thing that needs to be remembered:
The party, a liquor-soaked barbecue, was held at a rented cottage on Chappaquiddick Island, off Martha’s Vineyard. He left around midnight with Mary Jo Kopechne, 28, took a turn away from the ferry landing and drove the car off a narrow bridge on an isolated beach road. The car sank in eight feet of water, but he managed to escape. Miss Kopechne, a former campaign worker for Robert, drowned.

Mr. Kennedy did not report the accident to the authorities for almost 10 hours, explaining later that he had been so banged about by the crash that he had suffered a concussion, and that he had become so exhausted while trying to rescue Miss Kopechne that he had gone immediately to bed. A week later, he pleaded guilty to a charge of leaving the scene of an accident and was given a two-month suspended sentence.
Who can argue with fatigue?
As I always say, and as those who know me know, I live by the maxim: Any time can be nap time.
So what if the whoooooor can't breathe? Gotta sleep.

And yeah, you're right. P took me to Martha's Vineyard back in the 80's? 90's? Who can remember?
Daytrippin' road-trippers that we were, I said, "Let's find the bridge!"
Lifelong lib, P was not pleased with my focus, but she humored me, and we found the bridge, said our prayers. Mine for Mary Jo Kopechne, hers for the drunken Kennedy.
Ferried back to our rental car on the Cape, we motored to Ptown and back. Ho hum. How White Party. How seventies. How stoopid. How Roy Cohn. How Barney Frank. How east coast dune-fey. This ain't La Jolla. Not even Fire Island.
And by the way, Miss Kopechne did not drown. She was left to asphyxiate. Here's the Other McCain reminding us of the truth:
It has often been written that Mary Jo Kopechne "drowned." She didn't. The cause of death was asphyxiation -- there was an air pocket inside the overturned car, and Mary Jo lived long enough to breathe the last remaining oxygen in that air pocket. And while Mary Jo was breathing her last . . . what did Ted Kennedy do?
Oh yeah, he took a nap. Thanks, TOMc.

Today I'm thinking of Miss Kopechne. Thinking of her parents. Sweet Jesus bless them today.
One more? Okay. Waitress Sandwich.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

It's About Service, The Real Kind

This Is A Form Of Madness

“Justice Department Names Prosecutor to Reopen CIA Abuse Cases” —Wall Street Journal, yesterday
The Obama administration sees the CIA as the enemy, not the terrorists. It chooses to employ the full force of the federal government against our own protectors, not those who seek to murder Americans. This has long been the pathology of the Left, [to say nothing of the silly, the simpering and the stupid -- Contento] a conviction that efforts to defend ourselves are evil and that our enemies are figments of our imagination. The difference is that now this conviction is held by the president and his attorney general.

It is therefore not simply the CIA that should feel betrayed, [it's more than a mere "feeling," it's actual betrayal -- Contento] but all Americans. We lack leaders who are serious and committed to defending us against implacable enemies. There is no greater failing for a president.

I gotta say, this is fun, watching the true nature of these assholes come to light. Who didn't know this is who they are? You? Fool. Heh. Too bad ya hated Bush so much, your case of Bush Derangement Syndrome was so advanced, that you ignored reality.
Appointing a prosecutor to harass CIA interrogators exposes this administration’s priorities: The global war on terror takes a back seat to terrorizing some of America’s most selfless warriors.”
A real man, restrained as always, speaks out here.
Thank you sir. Oh, by the way, he supports "Gay marriage." Obama does not. Kikikikiki.

What? You can't read anything that does not agree with your own notions? Nevermind then.
This ain't what's meant by Tented.
Thanks, MM.
Yeah, three years here and this is the first time I've used the word assholes. Or any vulgar words. But really, some days you have to use the only word that fits.

Finally, two words: Jeremiah Wright.
You could look it up. Twenty years of wickedness. Even the great communicatress Oprah was smart enough to bolt that congregation of bitters.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Sure, After Sunset, Before Moonrise

My favorite rock.
Yep, them's stars, not dirt on the lens. Or lint on your screen.
Rock with night shutter.

Now, rock with rain clouds.

Evening rock from my tent.

Reprinted In Full

Barack Obama has so ably repaired the once frayed ties with our Bush-abused allies that UK Prime Minister Gordon Brown couldn’t do us the minute favor of keeping the convicted mass murderer of American citizens from being sprung and delivered into a Libyan hero’s welcome.

Hillary Clinton has been so levelheaded (so nonideological) in her pursuit of improved relations with Libya that Muammar Qaddafi simply had to meet terrorist Abdel Basset al-Megrahi at the airport to hug and kiss him and proclaim his love for both the killer and the British Crown before the world.

This is what all that goodwill and all those apologies have reaped? The unprecedented coupling of our best friend with one of our worst enemies?

And considering that this was all probably orchestrated in the interest of opening up British-Libya oil ties, the old nugget “blood for oil” seems particularly apt.

Hey, the important thing is: no more cowboy diplomacy, right? No more go-it-alone, unilateral, with-us-or-against-us, good-and-evil hooey. That was for simpletons. We’re in the hands of geniuses now.

So there’s no need for us mere mortals to get wee-weed up. The amount of gray matter that’s gone into this exquisitely calibrated foreign policy is beyond the grasp of regular folks like you and me. President Obama and Hillary Clinton have Qaddafi exactly where they want him. And Gordon Brown—you thought Tony Blair was Bush’s poodle? The same goes for Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, of course, and Kim Jong-il, not to mention all Europe, Africa, Asia, and the Americas. Remember, we became universally adored last November 4. If you’re not feeling the love yet,
you’re just being ideologically rigid.

Smart power knows no ideology. Smart power, recall, is about approaching the proper problem at the proper moment with the proper tool. So look to the geniuses: the moment is now, the problem is our evaporating grasp on world affairs, and the selected tool? A little vacation time on the beach.

See also: David Pryce-Jones


Meanwhile, back where men do what men gotta do.

Don't read Yon if you don't want to, but scroll through his photographs.

24 August 2009
Helmand Province, Afghanistan
The British soldiers of 2 Rifles had a mission: clear and hold Pharmacy Road.

Class Will Tell

Mercy of Fools

“He Who is Compassionate to the Cruel
Will Ultimately Become
Cruel to the Compassionate”
"Through the Mercy of Fools all Justice is lost." --Ramban

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Caster Oyl

Man or Woman?

The African family and friends of the runner who struck gold in the women's 800 metres at the World Athletics Championships but now faces sex tests hit out yesterday at claims she could be a man.
And South African Caster Semenya was also backed by her government, who called her the country's 'golden girl' and a role model for young athletes.
Caster, whose rapid improvement over the last year raised eyebrows, won the women's title with a crushing performance in Berlin on Wednesday.
The governing body of world athletics, the IAAF, has asked South Africa to test their star 18-year-old's gender after her muscular physique and extraordinary performances sparked speculation over whether she is really female.
But her proud mother Dorcus Semenya declared: 'I know who and what my child is. Caster is all girl, and no one can change that.'

Whaddya mean that's not a photo of Miss Caster?
Wait. That can't be you-know-who.
My apologies to the Semenyas family.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Shabbat Shalom

How Obamacare Works In The British Empire, Finer Points Division

You'll Feel Like a Kid Again
- Mark Steyn -

I think this is what those heartless American insurers would call a pre-existing condition:
A paedophile with a 30-year history of abusing children is being prescribed Viagra on the NHS - and there is nothing the authorities can do to stop him.
National Health Service. Heh.
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Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Yeah, Tonight, Hollywood Bowl

It's just a test. It's not your life.

Sure, 66, Last Week

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Librarian Killed By Dogs

Coroner: Wild dogs killed Ga. woman, then husband
Aug 18 03:53 PM US/Eastern

LEXINGTON, Ga. (AP) - An elderly woman killed by a pack of wild dogs had been out for a walk when she was attacked, and her husband died trying to fight off the mauling animals when he discovered the bloody scene near their rural Georgia home, authorities said Tuesday.

Elderly? She was 65 for chrissakes. That's the geezer zone.

Where's Michael Vick When You Need Him?

Prince of Darkness


“Ours is one of the mildest, most benevolent governments in the world. But it too has the power to take your wealth and forfeit your life. ... A government that can give you everything can take everything away.”
Oh yeah, born Jewish, died Roman.

Pinchin' Pennies

''It's called passive euthanasia,'' said Dr. Norman Fost, director of the Program in Medical Ethics at the University of Wisconsin. ''You can ask who's involved and is it really consensual, but there is no question that these are planned deaths. We know who is dying. Patients aren't just found dead in their beds.''
Catch that phrase? "Planned Deaths."
A deliberate decision is made to withhold treatment -- because of costs -- and let someone die.

Ready, Aim, Fire

One more reason why I love the USA
Don't get angry, neighbor, just shoot -- empty the magazine -- and reload.

It's for the children! Heh.

Hip Hip Hooray

Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death Panels - Mark Steyn -
What matters is the concept of a government "panel." Right now, if I want a hip replacement, it's between me and my doctor; the government does not have a seat at the table. The minute it does, my hip's needs are subordinate to national hip policy, which in turn is subordinate to macro budgetary considerations.

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Later I could full disclosure my ancient brief history with Mr. Steyn.
Government "panels" making "rulings" over your body: Acceptance of that concept is what counts.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Why, I Remember This One Sunday In New Mexico...

Yeah every day was great, and mileagewise some days were better than others.
Not each day, but some days, some two-lane blacktop days, were su-weet:
Internal combustion
Gasoline powered
Automatic transmission
6 cylinder
Not hybrid
SUV (Smallish)
Windows open
Totin' all'o'my stuff
American -- did I say that already?

Not saying I git that kinda mileage here in LA up and down the hill to work, cuz I don't. But I did on the trip road. More days than one.
Think it's epa rated 17/24.

White Supremacy!!!

Just Saying.

Headline of the Day Month Year Century

Black Man Pleads Guilty
to Posing as Obama-Hating
White Supremacist on Facebook

This is what annoys me about New Media. It took me years of hard work to develop a notorious reputation as an Obama-hating white supremacist. These kids -- Dyron L. Hart is a mere lad of 20 -- think they can jump online and become a hatemongering sensation overnight. And they don't realize that impersonating a bigot is a federal offense.

Where's the respect? Where's the tradition? I got no problem with college kids trying to bring some fake-Facebook diversity to the Obama-hating movement, but they need to acknowledge the fact that they stand on the shoulders of giants . . .

(Via Instapundit.)
Thanks, Other McCain

Contento HOPES Dyron likes prison and stuff.

What, you don't admire Clayton Bigsby?

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Lit Interlude

From the kids' summer reading list:

Thus Spake Zora
Zora Neale Hurston’s writing challenged black people as well as white.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Earlier Today

Okay so I'm back in Californy, on the 15 heading west-southerly, north of Barstow at a rest area, shirtless in the windy desert deserty wind -- sun so bright I cannot see what I type -- sun so bright and heat so hot that my genetically youthful face wrinkles uncharacteristicaly -- it's that 110 degree baking dry heat that I seek out and love.

Rest Area Aside: I know there's a subculture of men who have sex in public bathrooms, and a subsub culture of those who specialize in rest area bathrooms. The bathrooms at this rest area, like most rest area bathrooms, stink. The excretory odors of bodily waste. Stranger stank. How is that a draw for sex? I never get it.

Anyway, here at this multicultural southern California rest area in the August heat numerous Asians are smoking; boy and girl Asians all lit up and puffing in the 110 degree shaded area.

When I get to Barstow I will take a right over to Mohave and then a left down toward LA and the Valley, stopping in Rosamond for a grilled cheese in loving memory of  Mrs. Contento. She loved getting her grilled cheeses there at the Foster Freeze. One for me, two for her. Just the buttery smell of the toasted cheesy goodness would temp her to wolfsnap at me as she waited to dine with me in the Escapay. Though rolling solo now, I still punctuate most of my trips with this gustatory ritual.

Speaking of fragrances, I've washed up, of course, on this trip, soaping and scrubbing appropriately -- I know how to keep it all clean while camping -- but no deodorant in weeks. My own fresh desert scent just now reaches my nostrils, teaching me what pheromones are all about. Fragrant like dat, no wonder I'm an object of attraction. Would I do me? Asked'n'answered.

Satelite oddities: GPS is showing the Bun Boy Motel merely 27.6 miles ahead. I knew of the Bun Boy Restaurant, but never noticed the motel feature. Wonder where they got that name? What's a Barstow bun boy? I'll have to look that up.

I'm back in the Escapay now. Let's see if I can post this sad homeward-bound message from the hot trip road.

Shabbat Shalom

Thursday, August 13, 2009


I'm having breakfast -- the first since Gallup 9 days ago -- that was one unfortunate fast breaking experience -- please don't ask. So anyway I'm hungry. Mark, the young waitron, is distantly attentive; and I'm eating it all and I'm enjoying it all. My focus is food. Food that hasn't come out of my cooler, food that someone else cooked. Hey, didn't even pick up the free newspaper that comes with booth rental. Hell, I'm momentarily self sufficient.

And then this OLD couple -- like 60 years really OLD -- comes in and sits behind me and immediately they turn on cartoons on the tv in their dining booth.
Every booth with a screen connecting to narrowcast shite seems to be a selling point for this joint.

This time'o'day, admittedly, real cartoons are better than cartoonish Matt Lauer -- or his idiot's ilk, so counting my blessings is what up to I should be.

That, and not telling the coupled couple: TV beats looking at each other, donit? Why point out the obvious to the oblivous?

Still: If I wanted television I'd -- oh nevermind.

What makes me certain I have long-outlived my allotted span of understanding and lovingkindness? Well, I would shoot them both -- and the flatscreen -- were I armed. Then we'd all approach happiness.

Next up: That other jibberjabbering ahole with the cell phone going on over there.


Yes that's my shoulder in the bright adidas cyan. What, you think I only do drab, that I can't color it up?
PS KCD, responding to this, notes: You can conceal and carry in ALL states but IL and WI - coincidence?

Coincidence indeed.
Now, I'm not sure of the accuracy of the conceal'n'carry laws, but KCD's point is that I (ME) (moi) grew up in Wisconsin and Illinois, hence each state's hesitation to licence such as Contento...