Author: Old Man With Candy

We spent yesterday afternoon stocking up from the big Mexican grocery for our Football Sunday. Because nothing says football like posole, burritos, rellenos, and migas, amiright? And it’s a relaxing football day since the Ravens are playing for absolutely nothing. Maybe we’ll see some of that Trace McSorly magic!

Speaking of which, as usual, people were born on this date, including  the spiritual father of rubber; a guy who got court-martialed and had an airport in Milwaukee; an actual Russian collaborator; a pioneer of pseudo-history; everybody’s sweetheart; a guy who used to own George Costanza’s car; someone who really should have been a pornstar; and one of my favorite drunks.

On to news, such as it is.

 

More white supremacist antisemitic attacks in deepest Trump Country.

 

David Frum is consistent and reliable. You always know you’ll be getting sanctimonious statist twaddle. My opinion of Trump is not a positive one, but I give him credit for having the right enemies.

 

Some people will do anything, no matter how stupid or mendacious, to stay in the public eye. Stacey Abrams is one of them.

 

Workin’ hard to make it harder to get entry-level jobs.

 

Douglas MacKinnon can eat a bag of dicks. Maybe choke to death on the last one, yeah, that would be fitting.

 

This is what keeps us in Arizona.

 

Old Guy Music today is the title cut from one of my favorite albums of the ’70s and the record which convinced me that folk/bluegrass/country was damned interesting. Talk about a supergroup, this one had it all, Earl Scruggs, Maybelle Carter, Vassar Clements, Doc Watson, Roy Acuff, Merle Travis, Norman Blake…

 

Holy shit, it’s almost 2020. That means I’m really, really old so the best I can say is that at least I’m still regular (easy lob over the plate here!). And I have the prostate of an 18 year old (soft pitch down the middle, people!). And SP and I will spend New Year’s Eve upholding our traditions (c’mon, this is a BP fastball).  And among those traditions are the links I post before and after. The after ones tend to be a bit murkier, admittedly, so let’s enjoy coherence while it’s still present.

Birthdays today include the single most horrible human to occupy the White House (and the first indicator of the merit of the Nobel Peace Prize); a true space case; a brilliant and under-rated comic actor; our Fatha who art in Heaven; his negative image; and a guy who really got with the program.

On to the news:

 

The Schadenfreude, it burns!

 

I’m sure this will bring down the murder rate.

 

Imus go now. Bye.

 

Owie.

 

OMG, A LAW PROFESSOR!!!! IT’S ALL OVER NOW, MITCH!

 

Fucking antisemitic Trump.

 

More right wing white supremacist antisemitism in Trump Country.

 

More owie.

 

Of course her name is Karen.

 

Old Guy Music today is a surprisingly delightful take on a classic.

 

Traditionally, Jews would slip a few bucks to a goy to do tasks on Sabbath forbidden to the Jew, like turning lights on and off or lighting a stove. If it pisses off Yahweh, so what? It’s not like it’s a Jew breaking the commandments. Today, the opposite, the Jew sits in for Sloopy, while he spends the morning trying to prevent his sugared-up kinder from smearing shit on the walls with glee and abandon (not to mention partially digested crayon fragments). And I’m a Jew in a good mood, given the fantastic female with whom I’m spending my day off, the amazing food and beverage in the house, the afterglow of the effective end of the regular season in the NFL, and the memory of SP’s four kinds of tamales with red, washed down with several ethanol-containing media, and accompanied by a delightful Humphrey Bogart flick set in Arizona.

Birthdays abound, though Wikipedia coyly omits the most famous one. But they DID include one of the three or four greatest minds in human history; someone whom I could have sworn was made up; a guy who combined a great mustache with shitty cars; someone who at least admitted that he was not to be believed; the absolute exemplification of cool; a guy I would love to have done some lines with; the source of the terrific quote about TV, “How can you put out a meaningful drama when every fifteen minutes proceedings are interrupted by twelve dancing rabbits with toilet paper?“; one of the best baseball players I ever saw (but hung on too long); and an empty suit which could be a poutine receptacle.

Oh, and there’s likely some news or other out there.

 

IT’S HAPPENING!

 

If she’s successful, citizens will take turns shaving her legs.

 

“You can’t solve problems by just throwing money at them.”

 

Mexicans doing jobs Americans won’t.

 

He’s not incorrect.

 

After spending a few million dollars in grant money, scientists report startling fact known to anyone who has ever owned a dog.

 

Old Guy Music is clearly on theme today, a terrific song and a performance to match.

This is it, the last Hebraic links before some fat dude slides down your chimney and raids your bar while you’re sleeping. My healing continues apace, SP is doing the preps for our Christmas dinner (four kinds of tamales), and I’m gleefully going through a massive gift from one of our IRL Glib friends- a collection of old 45s and 78s, the thick pre-LP shellac types. It’s a hilarious mix of material ranging from Verdi to Frank Sinatra to Lawrence Welk.

So many birthdays today, I’m going to be forced to leave out a lot of good ones, but will manage to cite a guy who was known for self-consistency; the one and true TV mom; a guy who really could be differentiated; the inspiration for yesterday’s birthday boy Frank Zappa; a frequent recipient of tossed batteries; and a guy who has pretty much disappeared until 2024.

So, news.

 

“You expect me to actually believe my own bullshit? HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!”

 

I will not smoke it in the train, I will not smoke it on the plane.

 

She’s right. He’s not a third generation DC leech.

 

“We surrender, retroactively!”

 

I took a survey at our house and got a different result.

 

So wait, you want to collect welfare while you’re in college? Fuck you, get a job.

 

Judenrat.

 

For Old Guy Music today, I figured go ancient or go home. I was inspired by my Christmas gift. And sure, it’s ironic, but fuck, that’s some impressive playing.

Yes, my apologies, I’ve been scarce again- besides working insane hours without access to personal use of the internet, I had some surgery this week and am in recovery. I never knew that a penis reduction would be this complex, but there it is. Another few days in bandages and I’ll be ready to go, and at least I was less work for the surgeon because, you know, Jewish.

Many really great birthdays today including a guy named after a dog; a wop Jew limey; a guy who may have rivaled Ruth (but we’ll sadly never know); a guy who had his fist up Jerry Mahoney’s ass; a once-hot evil airhead; arguably one of the two or three greatest bandleaders and composers in 20th century America; a milf emeritus; and the second-best running back (and first-best personality) on the best running team in the NFL, ever.

On to news!

 

And I have to start with a jaw dropper from the New York Times, where they outright admit cherry-picking to make history bend to an ideology.

 

I have an alibi.

 

I can’t figure any of this out. These are odd people.

 

Most libertarian president ever. Fuck you, Donnie.

 

“Quasi-paranoid libertarianism?”

 

The area we live in now is as crime-ridden as the Chicago hell-hole we escaped.

 

I have an alibi, redux.

 

Wheel up the woodchipper.

 

And for Old Guy Music, a delightful song from one of today’s birthday guys, proving my point, and making me a bit homesick.

No homely intro, no birthdays, because no time.

 

Baltimore, oh, Baltimore.

 

In a surprise to no-one.

 

Florida Woman.

 

One more of the 10,000 reasons it should be legal, you thundercunt.

 

When everything is racism, nothing is racism.

 

Sandy gets confused by choice.

 

Fiddle threatens to burst into flames:

 

It somehow doesn’t feel like a real Sunday without Lamar Jackson babbling incoherently into a microphone after 60 minutes of redefining the quarterback position. Well, at least I’ll be enjoying some vindaloo while watching SP going nuts at the TV set, swaddled in her Green Bay gear. “That Aaron Rodgers, his eyes are just soooooo dreamy…” There’s cold Gruet, and after that and a few bottles of Mike’s Hard Lemonade, I should be ready to cheer on the Bills as they destroy any playoff hopes of the Steelers. It will almost be like a birthday present except it’s not my birthday.

But it IS the birthday of a guy who deserved his glowing recommendations; the most famous farmer of the ’60s; one of the most interesting and sane voices in science; and one of the funniest and most charming people SP and I have ever seen in live performance.

On to the news.

 

Speaking of Baltimore…

 

Speaking of the Ravens… 

 

More Trump antisemitism. Or something.

 

“Whatever it takes to get re-elected.”

 

I think this is kinda hot.

 

The first of several articles from Science. And why I will never give a penny to AAAS.

 

More Science Gone Woke.

 

And yet more Science Gone Woke.

 

Even more Science Gone Woke.

 

Old Guy Music- I just love these guys, pure joy. Pure, pure joy.

 

It’s an odd feeling being alone with SP and Wonder Dog again. And Mom not saying, “Why are you looking at your computer and laughing?” Eerie. SP has gone vegan again, just in time for Christmas. We spent last night watching Jack Ryan shoot at a lot of spics, but mostly at the bad right wing ones. The weather is perfect, I just reached my Medicare eligibility, and my heinie’s clean. So I guess things could be worse.

Like having a birthday, for instance, a guy who cratered out; a guy who did a lot; Buddy Sorrell who you don’t want to share your latest song with; maybe the most brilliant American bandleader; a shitbag in the news; and the Human Vacuum Cleaner when it comes to grounders.

So… news.

 

Fingers crossed that he comes back as a Raven.

 

Pocahontas has the purple-hair lesbian vote locked up!

 

“TAKE YOUR WRINKLED OLD PAWS OFF MY CUP OF QUARTERS!”

 

Lauren Kuby needs to choke on a bag of dicks.

 

Best. Possible. Timeline.

 

This wouldn’t have happened if we had net neutrality.

 

“AGGGGH!!!!! INAPPROPRIATE!!!! RUN!!!!!!!”

 

Old Guy Music is an anthem of my youth, played live by one of our local guys.

 

Well, I’m here briefly, then off to Baltimore. Not a happy trip. But at least it will be over quickly. And then I’ll be back, hopefully without any rat stowaways in my luggage.

And we can celebrate birthdays, too! Those would include a guy from the Delta; a dyslexic general; a guy who was the perfect foil in one of my favorite silly comedies; Heroic Mulatto’s hero; the Pride of Los Angeles; a notorious high jumper; and a football player who exemplified “team first”.

On to the news.

 

While I always applaud someone opposing government subsidies, taking a victory lap for converting a 25,000 white collar job opportunity to a 1,500 manual labor job opportunity strikes me as a bit weird.

 

This time it wasn’t me.

 

Every time a cop gets killed while fighting the drug war, an angel gets his wings.

 

Really? Now let’s see, who beat them last week…?

 

Now, it’s tough for me to decide who to hate the most in this story. Oh yeah, two parties that didn’t appear in the story: the union that enabled this, and the government who gave the unions this power and passed all kinds of laws forcing employers to go through these charades to get rid of a ridiculous expense.

 

Too local.

 

Apparently the government is watching me taking a shit.

 

I am shocked, SHOCKED, that cops would lie for revenue and kicks.

 

Old Guy Music today is something to get me in the Christmas mood, which for my people is to hide from the vengeful goyish crowds who want to throw us down a well.

Fuck, it’s December already? Well, at least it’s Sunday and while all the goyim are scurrying around, I can relax and watch the Niners and Ravens. Maybe. Depends on the VPN we’re using. Fingers crossed. Because that’s going to be far more interesting than the stupid goddam Rams-Cards bullshit that our local stations are carrying.

Birthdays are obligatory, and today’s feature a very waxy lady; the worst part of The Producers; one of the few people creepier than I am; one of the kings of comedy who actually was funny; a guy who understood supply and demand; and someone who was actually funny before she took up politics.

News, news, news.

 

No shit, Boris.

 

Joe is gonna show you that he’s a hep dude. And wants to sniff new hair every day. And maybe a little more, no promises.

 

It’s so cute when clueless dorks discover the internet.

 

The Cleveland Browns are sui generis.

 

Pissed off the wrong woman. Remember this when you’re leafing through Q’s Museum of Silicone and Photoshop.

 

Fake but accurate.

 

 

Old Guy Music is a song I like to play (or have liked to ever since I figured out her tuning). The studio version is the one I knew, but holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck look at this lineup! But Jesus, clean your nails, Joni.