One year ago today: August 11, 2014, WIP
Five years ago today: August 11, 2010, Florida water shortage.
Six years ago today: August 11, 2009, fair warning.
MORNING
Ha, I just heard about the “Botox Babe” petition. Some 30,000 have already signed a document aimed at banning the blonde bimbo, Megyn Kelly, from attending any further presidential debates. Freedom of the press? Not when they engage in defamation, make inflammatory statements, and foment hate toward an identifiable party. Yep, she deserves to have her old jelly-ass kicked out, which would qualify a win for my bet. Kelly, that is so embarrassing. I wanted Trump to have one of these media bums thrown out, but the same net effect because of Trump would satisfy my criteria.
These media people are causing trouble and stepping over the line. The next clown that has to go is that Geraldo who shouts like a maniac whenever Ann Coulter tries to answer his questions. He is one sick racist as well, even claiming that illegals don’t commit crimes. Hey, 200 million Americans can’t be wrong, but that moron keeps insisting they are.
He can’t seem to grasp simple statistics. That’s what can happen in America when you lose your marbles too early in the game. It’s as if he hates the Donald because his own hair piece doesn’t look half as natural. He needs to get together with that horrid-looking Whoopi and together they make the entire universe into one big racist issue at least to their own kindergarten level.
Click here to see a photo of Megyn with a poodle cut and before the nose and chin jobs.
NOON
I’m painting indoors, not surprising since I don’t have a viable work shed. Which is more uncomfortable: NPR radio or the 99 degrees outside that patio door? NPR reports a “pastor protection” bill that stops prosecution against priests who refuse to perform ceremonies that are against their fundamental beliefs. Like queer marriage. But, you see, this raises some serious issues.
And speaking of not eating, here is your can of fish now pushing $7.00. Those who wanted quantitative easing, or in the alternative, did not object to the policy, will now pay the penalty. With both barrels. I watched millions of homeowners thinking the government bailed them out of the home debt crisis, the smug little idiots. Sure, they kept their underwater homes but now it is payback time. Big house, dog food on the table.
And what’s this? An anti-suicide group in the Florida Keys is going to fight the problem with banners and ads at bus shelters. That’s hitting the nail on the head. That’s making the cut. That’s putting an end to the problem. That’s making the point. Will the ads list prevention measures in a bullet format? Will all this effort really slash the number of attempts? That group might be loonies, but at least they don’t leave you hanging.
NIGHT
What did I do this evening? Besides run out of paint, I build a rack for my wood and metal files and a battery replacement attachment for my old digital camera, the one that was eating batteries. There is more to this than simply wiring a transformer to the pins, which essentially wrecks the camera. Instead, you drill out some old dead batteries and use the metal cases.
I’m home alone to avoid temptation as I have an important physical tomorrow. Which also means fasting. Today I ate a potato and a small bowl of orzo, a type of pasta. With tomato sauce. But these are important tests, so no going out. I went for coffee before sunup, and who shows up but Agt. M and chows down three platefuls right in front of me. Hey, what are robot club members for?
In the background, I listened to the music from a list the newest guitar player gave me. Um, somehow, I don’t think Incubus and Yellowcard are all that adaptable to an acoustic bass duo. Even the older material he likes, such as Hendrix’s “All Along The Watchtower” is not as universally popular as Hank Williams. So you’ll know, I never did like Hendrix because I never toked. He appealed to the fried-brains.
In my day you could tell how much skunk a man was smoking by how much he worshipped Hendrix. Seriously, only the wowzie-wooh-wooh posse identifies with “said the joker to the thief”. Women, I found, will listen to Hendrix if the men they are with will listen to Hendrix. For reasons.
ADDENDUM
And of course, the ongoing thing with Trump. Sadly, even Rand Paul has degenerated to sniping at the Donald instead of pursuing his own agenda. He drones on about how they should have debates, but Trump has consistently pointed out that is all the establishment ever does. People are fed up, and these useless party-line politicians have been hiding behind their personal sensitivities for far too long. There are so many of them that need to be called fat and ugly to jar them back into the reality of what they’ve done to America.
With Rand Paul now calling names and berating the other man’s methods, the last decent hope of a civilized contest is gone. There has always been major trouble in the world throughout history when the diplomats have had their excesses for too long. At such junctures, a man of the people comes to power. I can only say I hope I live to see it. I, too, have had it with these strutting peacocks who never talk about the real issues that are hobbling the country. Starting with illegal immigration.
I’m moving away from the attitude that a vote for Trump is merely a vote against the political elite. They are gangsters who have been running America like their private fiefdom. I’m beginning to see Trump as a modern-day Cromwell about to dissolve the parliament of whores. The founding Fathers intended the country to be run by a businessman, not a general or a political science major.
And that leader was, after a limited term, to return to his shop or field. “Professional” politician, my eye. This place was getting as bad as Canada, run by thieves.
Last Laugh
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