“. . . the Declaration of Independence no longer arouses enthusiasm; it is an embarrassing instrument which requires to be explained away. The Constitution is said to be ‘outgrown.’” Lizzie read from her oration lesson for the day. The year was 1963, and despite nearly 20 years of training and preparation, she still fought the trademark multitonal wheeze of the undead when she encountered the letter H.
Charlie winced at the raspy tell, wondering whether parents of kids with lisps felt the same way. The stakes were obviously higher for Lizzie, because at worst the lispy kids would be called fruits like Liberace. Lizzie was the last opportunity to seize the reins of power before the responsibility fell to the next generation. Charlie was too old for another Plan 9.
“I not only use all the brains that I have, but all I can borrow.” Lizzie continued to read through her custom-printed Woodrow Wilson reader, completely oblivious to the cringeworthy irony of the quotation. Charlie had learned during the years of growth, pain, confusion and horror that was the maturation of this abominable creature that each undead monster had its own maturation process. The personal aspects retained from the donors varied greatly between the Kennedy creature and Lizzie. Jack Kennedy had virtually no recollection of events prior to his emergence, and he matured from emotional infancy to adulthood. Physically, he was an adult from day one, but his hormones appeared to be additive or even multiplicative of his donors’ contributions. Poonhound was an understatement.
Lizzie, on the other hand, seemed to have some vague recollections of her past. Her description reminded Charlie of the sense of deja vu one gets about a long forgotten dream. However, the feeling seemed to comfort her, and she preferred to practice her reading, writing, and oration skills using her Woodrow Wilson reader.
“Lizzie, it’s time to go. We’ve packed the Airstream, it’s time to start your whistlestop tour of the US.” Charlie warbled his voice in a faux lecturing tone. Lizzie was a bit too socially dense to understand Charlie’s joviality, but what could the harm be? Jokes go over little kids’ heads all the time. “First stop is Philadelphia!”
Lizzie curled into a seated fetal position, her eyes glazing over. Charlie and the Scientist had been telling her about this trip for a long time, easing her in, but she couldn’t relate to anybody of any age. Her mind was filled with the stern statesmanship of a former President, the nagging insistence of a schoolteacher edging for headmaster (who was really a scorned housewife), and something else, something dark and primal, instinctual but intelligent, something Charlie called the Demon. Other people were so simple, little puppets driven by base urges and simple abstractions piled up like a block tower erected by a 2 year old. They were just asking to be molded, formed, reconditioned… punished. A quote from her reader inhabited her conscious mind, “How is the schoolmaster, the nation, to know which boy needs the whipping?”
Her grasp of the concept of a rhetorical question was limited, but her grasp of the concept of a trick question was well burgeoned by the consistent exposure to Charlie’s wit. She knew the answer to the question.
“They all do,” she half-consciously muttered beneath her breath, unfolding from her defensive cocoon and preparing for the harrowing task of interacting with and learning from ordinary people. Charlie, by now well acquainted with Lizzie’s occasional inability to keep her inner dialogue from seeping out, ignored the seemingly random utterance and returned his attention to packing the mirror polished trailer full of necessities.
After a few weeks on the road, having traveled from the East Coast to the West Coast across the northern states, the weather had turned cold enough that the return trip would have to be to the south. The Scientist, the multi-talented genius that he was, had planned all of this out so that they would be back home right as the spring thaw took hold in 1964. So far, the trip had gone off without too many hitches. There was that boy from Woodrow Wilson High School in Tacoma that they caught peeping in the window at Lizzie. He was in for quite a surprise when he saw her less-than-human physique. Hopefully she didn’t mess the boy up too bad. They stopped trying to find schools named for Woody after that incident. Lizzie was disappointed, but she took it in stride.
After an intensely monotonous transit across the desert, they arrived in Dallas in late November.
“How long are we here?” Charlie asked, knowing that the Scientist had already planned and discussed this stop with him. He had already taken Lizzie to a football game because his Eagles were playing the Cowboys, but he wanted to know whether how many additional days’ worth of interpersonal enrichment to plan for Lizzie.
“At least a week, maybe longer. I need to check a few things before I can give you an answer. Lizzie, now is the time that we will use your training.” The Scientist replied matter-of-factly. Charlie didn’t know what training the Scientist was talking about, her training had been used almost every day since they left the lab. She was making slow progress at interacting with normal everyday people after being a shut-in for the first two decades of her existence.
“Yes sir,” Lizzie replied, unemotionally, “I will ensure the weapon is in working order.” She shuffled out of the car and into the trailer, rummaging loudly through the packed gear.
“Weapon? What is going on and why am I not aware of it?” Charlie blurted, his voice rising in incredulity.
“We’re cleaning up your mess, you blithering fool!” The Scientist displayed a rare flash of emotion. He tossed a copy of the Dallas Morning News in front of Charlie. “Storm of Political Controversy Swirls Around Kennedy on Visit” read the front page headline. Charlie turned red faced and slammed the door to the car, angrily pacing on the sidewalk next to the idling car.
*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*
Shots rang out across Dealey Plaza. Lizzie nonchalantly packed her highly modified Carcano into her briefcase and walked behind the grassy knoll toward the designated rendezvous point. She didn’t mind dressing like a man, but the suit didn’t fit well and she was self-conscious about somebody disciplining her for not acting like a girl. Charlie had promised her that it was okay in this situation, but she still felt that all eyes were upon her, gawking, probing, hating the Demon. She quickly realigned her thoughts to the mission at hand. She felt a pang of an unfamiliar emotion when she thought of Charlie completing the most dangerous part of the mission, planting the gun on that retard commie librarian. They found the fool a few nights ago strung out in a dilapidated tenement and decided that he would be a better cover than their existing plan. Charlie risked capture, but the Scientist made clear that he would take the bulk of the risk since he did the bulk of the fucking up. Kennedy wasn’t even supposed to be alive in the 1950s, let alone putting together a political career that would culminate in the Presidency.
As she finished her determined path to the rendezvous, she was greeted by a waiting Charlie and the Scientist idling the car in a parking zone. She quickly shoved the briefcase into the trailer and took her appointed spot on the back bench of the car.
“Everything went as planned,” Charlie reported, stripping a pair of latex gloves off of his hands. “If we’re lucky we’ll be able to grab the blood samples for your study. Hopefully we can figure out what went wrong with him.” The only noise for the rest of their short trip was a shuffling of costumes as Lizzie discarded the ill-fitting suit and the occasional crunch of a wrapper as they ate a small lunch.
The Scientist, dressed in a pale blue smock, put a mask on his head and a pair of safety glasses over the mask. He stepped out of the car in front of the employee entrance of Parkland Hospital and opened the back door of the ’61 pastel green Cadillac DeVille, extending a hand to Lizzie and pulling out an ER nurse, white uniform complete with hose and a paper hat covering a perfectly coiffed bun. The makeup was a bit heavy handed, but wasn’t quite to Kennedean hooker status. An unsuspecting bachelor could get himself into quite a pickle if he ran across her all dolled up like this.
The plan was simple, infiltrate the morgue, get past secret service, and draw two vials of blood. Lizzie walked in first, carrying a clipboard and a body bag. The Scientist lagged behind, also carrying a clipboard. They both had forged ID badges clipped to their uniforms. Once the Scientist walked into the hospital entry, Charlie pulled away to park the trailer in an adjoining employee lot. He was dressed as a secret service agent, and he was the backup plan they hoped they didn’t have to use.
He began the short walk to the employee entrance, visualizing his nervousness escaping like ectoplasm with each deep breath he exhaled. Once he reached the door, he paused for a second to steel his remaining nerves, and walked into the hospital like he had a purpose. He knew that he wouldn’t fool the secret service agents in the hospital, but he only hoped to evade the notice of the hospital staff. He knew approximately where to go, but it would likely arise suspicion if he started ambling around the morgue looking for a body of a dead president.
Was the Kennedy creature dead? Although Charlie and the Scientist had studied undead creatures together for over 50 years, he had no clear answer. He had watched the explosive results of Lizzie’s third bullet, but there were rats in the lab that were ambulatory for hours after full decapitation. Knowing Jack, his brainless body was probably humping his pillow.
Charlie rounded a corner, following his pre-planned ingress, when things went sideways. “Excuse me! Excuse me, sir!” A determined voice beckoned from behind the nurse’s station.
Swallowing the catch in his throat and remembering that he was dressed as a secret service agent, he turned to the cute, if a bit pudgy, nurse flittering between files at the desk. “Yes ma’am, can I help you?” he hoped the faux bravado in his voice wasn’t noticeable to her.
“Do you know what’s going on? I heard the hospital is being evacuated!” Her voice contained equal parts curiosity and anxiety.
“No ma’am, not at this time,” he bullshitted, “do you know where the VIP is being kept?”
“Yessir, he’s in observation room 1-128, just down the hall and take the second right.” She obviously bought the act and had no problem blabbing confidential information as long as one looked the part.
“Oh, he survived?” Charlie was genuinely surprised that Kennedy would have been able to return to fully ambulatory status so quickly. The rats sometimes took up to a day to recover from what he and the Scientist best guessed was a comatose state.
“No,” she sighed, “One of the other nurses said he died. They’re waiting until they can secure a place in the morgue for him. What happened anyway? I heard that the President was in town, did one of his aides have a heart attack? This seems like a whole lot of to do for one person.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t talk about it. You’ll know soon enough.” Charlie waved in thanks and in departure and followed the instructions to the observation room. He rounded another corner and walked into yet another buzzsaw.
In the hallway stood an animated Scientist conversing with a pair of no-shit secret service agents. Their body language showed impatience and his showed increasing desperation. Lizzie was nowhere to be seen. The backup plan ended up being necessary. Charlie hoped that his dress and demeanor would buy him enough time to execute his part of this intricate dance. He walked with urgency toward the Scientist until he saw one of the agents catch notice of his approach.
“Sir! Sir!” he implored the Scientist. “Sir, if you aren’t on the whitelist, you can’t be here. I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.” He turned his back to the agents and gestured back the way he came. As he twisted back toward the agents, he slid a dart gun out of his trenchcoat and fired a pair of darts into the right legs of each agent, catching them completely off guard. Evidently the scene had been more confused than he thought, because he fully expected to have to outdraw the agents and dodge gunfire as they withered under the chemicals. One agent tried to unholster his pistol while melting like the wicked witch into a puddle of wool suit parts. Charlie defused the situation with a quick palm to the wrist, causing the agent’s hand to slip off the grip and slid down his torso. The other agent brought his left arm up to his mouth, attempting to sound the alarm, but the Scientist intercepted the microphone before it was activated. Almost gently, he returned the man’s arm to his waist and helped him down to his slumber. He grabbed a key from the man’s palm and inserted it into the door.
As Charlie and the Scientist slipped into the darkened room, their eyes met a scene that was beyond their ability to comprehend. The Scientist doubled over and rested his head in his hands, trying to regain his composure. Charlie ducked his head into a trash can next to the door and purged his lunch.
On the gurney was a writhing mass of flesh, pale with discolored splotches, some bare and some covered in patchy blonde hair. The noises emanating from the mass was animalistic and procreative. If this was sex, it was a grotesque, otherworldly, abominable parody of human sex. The bodies weren’t simply thrusting in concert, but they were actively fusing together and disintegrating like a ball of dough being kneaded. Genitals were barely recognizable, but the tell-tale “birthmarks” on Lizzie’s back stood out, as well as the patchy leg hair of Jack Kennedy. The top halves of their bodies were unfused, and Jack stared directly at Charlie. His expression was a mix of shock-induced stupor and that inherent smug charisma that caused him to part ways with Charlie and the Scientist in the first place.
Lizzie, on the other hand, wore a simplistic determination on her face. The pleasurable noises she made interspersed her attempts to lick, suck and chew at the gaping wound in Jack’s head. As she reached climax, she turned her head mechanically and locked eyes with Charlie, a chunk of bloodied brain hanging from her lips. The Demon was in control.
“Lizzie!” Charlie whisper screamed, cognizant of the threat outside the door and the threat mounted on top of the soon-to-be former President. The Demon was capable of many things, but it wasn’t able to stand up to a stronger personality in direct conflict. “Lizzie! Get off of that creature and put your fucking uniform back on!”
The Scientist, regaining his sense of urgency, grabbed Lizzie’s wrist and peeled her off of Jack in a sensation much like separating a pair of stuck together crescent rolls in a Pillsbury tube. Lizzie’s body quickly returned to shape, perhaps looking better than before. The scars and lumps and birthmarks that riddled and pocked her flesh seemed to have faded some small but noticeable amount.
“S-s-s- sorry, sir” Lizzie stuttered, gathering her uniform and covering her nudity. A blush formed across her cheeks as she realized that she was naked in front of the Scientist, who had only seen her bare a few times before. Her modesty wasn’t inherent, but Charlie had trained her enough that it had become a pavlovian response.
With a growl, the Scientist turned his attention to the bloated, heaving body of John Fitzgerald Kennedy. Jack definitely got the worst of the intercourse, and the pain in his eyes betrayed the fact that he wasn’t going to be around much longer. His body seemed to be inflating and subtly gyrating like there was a pot of water boiling under his skin. The Scientist looked into his eyes as he inserted the needle for the first blood draw, 30 years of broken relationship condensed into a single shared expression. Hate. Pure, unadulterated hate.
“hhhhh- you! I knew it would be … you,” Kennedy gurgled and gasped, forcing the words out between waves of pain. A fit of coughing interrupted his deathbed rant.
“It washnt enough that you tried to kill me multiple times. I couldn’t have what you wanted so badly.” Kennedy wheezed once more, his breathing becoming labored.
“I die knowing that you will never succeed!” A final exhale signaled the end to John F. Kennedy’s unholy existence.
His body continued to gurgle as the Scientist packed up the vials of blood and Charlie huffed with incredulity. Lizzie, who despite being a product of death had never seen death, sniffed at the body, acting more like a dog than a human.
“Lizzie! Let’s go!” The Scientist snapped, making for the exit. Simultaneously a moan and a cracking sound emanated from the Presidential corpse. Lizzie jumped back and looked on quizzically, completely ignoring the command from the Scientist.
A series of noises that could be mistaken as coming from the back room of a butcher’s shop accompanied a heaving and writhing of Kennedy’s body. Slowly, it cleaved into two, leaving a much more recognizable Presidential husk on the gurney and a human shaped glob of flesh on the floor. Lizzie, far from being afraid, approached the glob and sniffed. She emitted a multitonal raspy sound at the glob, and it returned the call in an immature, high-pitched form.
Before their eyes, the glob transformed into a young man with clear Kennedy genetic lineage and more than a hint of fetal alcohol syndrome.
“What the HELL are we going to do about this one, Charlie?” the Scientist had that same desperate look on his face from in the hallway. “We don’t have time to get this… this… this thing out of here without detection!”
“No, no, no no no no no,” Charlie whispered barely audibly, defeat radiating from him.
After a long silence, he started. “I may actually have an idea to get us out of this. The Kennedy family we created has a fourth son, Edward. Currently, the actor we have portraying him is a fill-in for Jack’s Senate seat. This . . . thing . . . could pass for Ted Kennedy. We’d just have to concoct a story about Ted coming along on Jack’s trip if we get asked any questions.”
“Fine, but what if that thing doesn’t make it easy on us?” the Scientist gestured at the ambulating creature looking more and more believable as a human every second.
“Look at him, he’ll do anything that Lizzie tells him,” Charlie smirked while he watched Ted Kennedy sniff Lizzy in curiosity. They walked around one another in a tight circle, sizing one another up. When Ted faced toward the exit, Charlie addressed him. “Will you come with us?”
Teddy Kennedy cocked his head to the side before returning his gaze to Lizzie. He smiled a disturbingly unemotional smile.
“Kennedy Sandwich!!” He announced in his unmistakably New England nasal voice, tackling Lizzie onto the gurney and repeatedly thrusting his hips, no notice given to the uninhabited shell of his brother-father.
Comments
237 responses to “Secret Zombie Presidential Candidate, Ep. 2: Got a Thing for Brains”
Zombies with trailers are tight!
Euphemism?
No, barely an inconvenience.
You are a Madman! Great crazy tale, but after all,
it was you and me,
Just my luck. Cleaning up my backyard yesterday and I got something all over me. Didn’t see any poison ivy, but it’s fairly spotty. I wonder if one of those saplings I disposed of was poison sumac? Just my luck.
Zombie ALMANIAN!/SMOD 2020: they
probablydefinitely won’t make it worseI got nuthin’
*pukes into trash can*
That’s my home Scruffy! Do I come into your house and vomit on your rug? OK, that’s a bad example, but the point still stands!
Consider it a compliment.
Haven’t finished, but just wanted to say thanks a lot for reviving my WANT for an Airstream.
Went through some at Barrett Jackson. Yeah, they are as nice inside as you think.
Yeah, they are as expensive as you think.
Alright, I finished. Now I want nothing but the sweet release of death.
#metoo
Bravo! The sickening depravity had me on the edge of my seat.
Double-barrel Joe strikes again.
“the second amendment doesn’t say that we can’t restrict what kind of guns you can own”
“What part of it allows you to restrict the kinds of guns I can own?”
If you can still exercise your right it isn’t being infringed, they’re just placing some mild restrictions on it. You know, for own good.
And if you don’t give it up you’ll be thrown in a rape cage or killed. Sounds fair to me.
What does the 9th Amendment say, Joey Boy?
It says: The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.
This is 2019, there is no such thing as enumeration. We just go by “provide for the general welfare” now.
I believe it says that the rights listed are under no circumstances the only right enjoyed by U.S. citizen and that they need to be respected.
However, that particular amendment has been so ignored as to be effectively repealed.
Well, that is unpleasant.
“much like separating a pair of stuck together crescent rolls in a Pillsbury tube.”
Who hasn’t done that? Now I want a hot croissant with lotsa butter.
Great analogy, Trashy
Thankyou so much. After all these years the mystery has been clearup up. It all makes sense now.
Too bad Jim Garrison isn’t around to read this.
I’ve never been so proud of being a graduate of Woodrow Wilson Elementary School.
Well, huh. Wasn’t that…something? I hate myself for allowing myself to be drawn into the story.
The Kennedy’s sure are an insatiable bunch.
We Counted Every Line in Every Quentin Tarantino Film to See How Often Women Talk
You want women to have more lines in movies because you think Tarantino’s unreasonable? Then fucking make the movie.
Christ on sale these people.
I just can’t understand why Time is a dim shadow of it’s former self.
The new Tarantino movie is interesting, according to RLM. So interesting I kinda wish I hadn’t spoiled it by watching RLM.
I am a Tarantino guy but I absolutely loved it. Recency bias, etc, but it may be his best.
Is it worth seeing if I know the twist? I feel like I’m going to spend the entire time anticipating the twist.
It’s the kind of twist that made his other movie which had a similar twist very enjoyable to me, but I didn’t anticipate that twist.
He takes the audience on a magical journey.
Now do Thelma and Louse.
In the past the Bechdel test was used.
I think I now why I liked Reservoir Dogs.
know
I’m not giving them the clicks, but apparently this paragon of “journalism” skipped “Death Proof” ( the one with all the chicks) and counted Kill Bill 1 and 2 as one movie. So besides having a dumb premise, he has to cheat to make it come out that way.
The real reason men send unsolicited penis pics
GET! OUT!
Why stop there? I am pretty sure dick pics cause climate change.
I thought the penis, particularly the white penis caused all ills?
I determined that men who reported having sent unsolicited d- -k pics demonstrated higher levels of stupidity and impulse control.
And lower levels of impulse control. Whoops.
Other way around. Climate change causes dick pics.
Is this why jesse has been lying low?
What the holy fuck!
Also nice work Trash. I had no idea you were so warped.
This place will change you…
*blankly stares at wall*
I just found something remarkable on the internet.
One of my absolute favorite movies of all time, “Life of Brian”, is debated on a BBC talk show back in 1979.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ni559bHXDg
Absolutely amazing. They sent two clergymen to go see Life of Brian and comment of it. So their immediate take is – this is a film about Jesus and it insults Jesus and the saints. No, really, that is their take.
Now, you have to have a pretty small mind to think that what they are on about in it is Jesus. It was absolutely clear that they were lampooning the followers, not Jesus.
But you just have to see it to believe it.
And in and amongst the most ridiculous criticisms, a gem. Just an absolute gem.
Remember, this is England, 1979. And one of the clergy makes this very salient point: ” If you had made this film about Muhammad there would have been quite a stink made about it.”
Let that ruminate. 1979, and he was talking about London’s “Inclusivity” people enforcing a prohibition against criticizing Muhammad – not about Islamists coming to murder them.
Amazing how far along we have come on so many things, and how some things, like PC culture have only gotten worse. 40 years ago, and they were already on about how you can’t criticize Islam, but having a go at Christians is fair game.
But to directly rebut the blow-hard clergy on the show – the Sermon on the Mount from Life of Brian is a brilliant scene and is a fantastic and thought provoking examination of what the response must have been among people who were listening to Jesus speak. Which can only motivate folks to learn more.
“‘E’s not the Messiah! E’s a very naughty boy!”
I forgot to mention, it’s Palin and Cleese for the defense.
Their looks of astonishment as their work is willfully misunderstood and misrepresented are wonderful and painful to see. Cleese has a wonderful bit about people who have everything all worked out – whether they be a Marxist, Communist, Cultist… they always see everything through the lens of their one thing. And their thoughts go round and round in circles so rapidly that nothing can penetrate. So there’s never anything that could ever be said that would change their mind about anything. Really a wonderful metaphor.
If I’m not mistaken, the clergy were there simply to argue for the cameras. I.e. they were brought in just so there could be a faked argument for the sake of ‘TV’. I’m pretty sure I remember seeing one of the MPers saying that, backstage, the clergymen were asking for/critiquing the exchange as if they were acting. Which appears to be the case. The Pythoners were quite shocked by it.
Equinox, SoulCycle face boycott calls over Stephen Ross’ Trump fundraiser
Just a reminder, not that I would think you dorks need it: never directly donate to a politician – always give to a PAC where it’s not public record.
Related
LOL
Igniting Civil War
That is by far my favorite new website. Holy goodness gracious
And you’ll notice the headline is misleading. The fighting is between India and Kashmiri civilians. Pakistan is just on “heightened alert”.
Brooks’d.
Well… Pakistan believes that is its territory, no?
I’m sure Pakistan is just SOCMOB.
Interesting read.
Jeebus. And I thought I was pessimistic.
REMAIN CALM! ALL IS WELL!
I didn’t realize that India and Pakistan were on the verge of war once again.
https://www.zerohedge.com/news/2019-08-07/heavy-clashes-erupt-between-indian-pakistani-forces-kashmir
What set this off?
A gazzilion years of war?
India ending autonomy for the Indian section of Kashmir.
Ah, got it. Hopefully those two nuclear powers will get their minds right.
…Article 370 of the constitution…
I think I might be seeing part of the problem…
SSDD
Solid State Double-D?
And you’ll notice the headline is misleading. The fighting is between India and Kashmiri civilians. Pakistan is just on “heightened alert”.
That was misleading. When you can’t trust ZeroHedge who can you trust?
Pakistan claims that territory. They will be involved, sooner or later.
I think you can read “Pakistan” when you hear “Kashmiri Rebels” with reference to India.
That’s a fair point.
Strafe?
What set this off?
Pick one:
1) India and Pakistan hate each other
2) ever since the partition?
3) TRUMP?
4) ?????
5) Profit!!
(couldn’t resist)
That seems vaguely familiar…
A long time ago the Mughals invaded the land of the Hindus. Anger ensued. Time passed. Grudges grew. The end.
I really think you are downplaying the role of Hate from President Trump.
Kashmir. Must be Ed Wood’s doing.
JESUS EFFIN CHRIST.
https://theweek.com/articles/855766/tulsi-gabbard-no-peacenik?fbclid=IwAR0NEtmPqqhaNcj4T1sAAKOOlHv43F542wBf7vUWnUV4_0hG71Tz3sFhbwo
America is going to be a force for peace in the world, it needs to stop invading other countries for their own good. And, for America’s own good, it also needs to stop cultivating nasty regimes. But ironically, the very politicos who are anti-war often become pro-dictator. Unfortunately, Democratic presidential contender Tulsi Gabbard, the congresswoman from Hawaii, is no different.
Gabbard, an Iraq war veteran, has made opposition to war her signature issue.
But that doesn’t make her a peacenik; it makes her an America-Firster, just like President Trump.
*bangs head on wall repeatedly.
I read that on Reason a couple of days ago. Dalmia’s an irrational lunatic.
You say that…. but she got picked up by The Week.
They’re going to try and destroy Tulsi. She stuck a shiv in Kamala’s poll numbers, and that don’t go around here.
Isn’t Tulsi a bit of a gun grabber? Although I can’t name one politician at the moment who isn’t now that the stupid party is calling for Red Flag laws.
That’s a definite yes. Her platform on gun control:
https://www.votetulsi.com/node/25028
Yes. However, having a Democrat in office will probably get the Republicans to quit their gun grabbing.
Hah!
Is there another potential hegemon with an ideological conviction toward international peace and unity that I don’t know about?
Do these people believe the UN would rule the world supremely with America’s military might under its rein?
Do they think Russia, or China, or any roguish nation, would be more accepting of another, maybe superficially internationalist force, than they are of the United States?
Is there another potential hegemon with an ideological conviction toward international peace and unity that I don’t know about?
What do you mean by “another”?
“A better,” then.
Who’s supposed to promote this international humanitarian quest? Who’s supposed to backstop it with armed boys?
Nobody, ideally.
Well, that’s a problem. Because the current internationalist body is in thrall to a bunch of regressive Muslim countries, and our left is in thrall to Europe.
I think China would be perfectly happy to have the world in peace and unity…. (under the rule of China). Same could be said of Russia.
Difference here in the States is we keep conquering people to not rule them. Which is probably why we keep having such a rough time of it.
“it makes her an America-Firster”
Umm, shouldn’t every President be that?
I think Trump said exactly that in defense of America first — which was immediately condemned as proof of Nazism and as exactly the sort of thing that Hitler would say. (actually not hyperbole. I’m pretty sure they spent a lot of time researching various Nazis looking for anyone who said anything similar)
Bernie Sanders pledges to reveal info on aliens if he wins in 2020
I mean I would have voted for him just for the finally releasing the alien info, but now that he openly admits his chick will order him to do things I’m out.
Fun fact: The Bernie cast has been out for a day and already has over 3 million views! Joe Rogan, man.
Didn’t Trump issue the same pledge? And maybe Slick Willie too, IIR.
Rogan let all of his economic BS slide with no challenge. He is not very good with anything beyond freedom of speech.
Oh well. Bernie sounded like a loon to me. I wanted to give him a chance to convince me.
Bernie Sanders explains football. (Andrew Heaton)
For those under the sad, misguided, yet utterly untrue apprehension that ass is better than tits.
https://archive.li/JanXE/b9119628b74ea35fddfcf91984eb39f20964c014.jpg
Our prayers are with you.
NSFW.
I watched Kickboxer: Vengence yesterday (because I enjoy all silly action films. I also enjoy silly horror movies. I am all about a silly goose time) and the main actress, Sara Malakul Lane, at one point takes her top off. And holy moly with a Popsicle stick. Good golly miss molly.
She has nice breasts.
But you can’t deny you’d like to see her ass. Nobody settles for tits.
Commodious you bring shame to our hometown.
All the folks who did us proud cleared the fuck out. What’s it say about those of us who stayed?
https://archive.li/8KbqO/77c69cf19f109998e0af2272d4a09f71d0d8ad1a
https://archive.li/qwB0W/10728033160f12972de615c76da49aff85180e84.jpg
NSFW.
I was all ready to give you crap but, holy f**k those are pretty close to perfect.
It’s my gift.
Take the nipples off and it would be a great ass.
I just the most obscene cloud ever. It changed before I could snap a pic
Pics or it didn’t happen.
Oh, wait. . . .
He’s just a cloud tease.
Blah, blah, blah, socialized medicine.
https://nypost.com/2019/08/06/diabetic-groom-to-be-dies-after-taking-cheaper-insulin-to-pay-for-wedding/
I mean, I feel sorry for him but… we already have socialized medicine. My employers and I have paid into it for decades without me using a penny of it (aside from dental and vision). Where’d all that money go?
Wait, was it the cheaper insulin or ‘rationing’ that cheaper insulin that done killed him?
Failing New York Times.
https://www.businessinsider.com/new-york-times-stock-price-q2-earnings-revenue-outlook-drops-2019-8
Teddy was a product of incest. How did I not see that coming? Well done.
Self serve high balls, Shochu, Asahi on tap. Piles of different meat cuts to chose from. Grill yourself. Total glutton. Think I gained 5 kilos.
https://m.imgur.com/a/G2Qbcnj
So Japan has a minimum wage, too?
Oh yeah. About 10/hr. It’s why you don’t get full service at the gas stand anymore. Until about 2005 or so, you’d get an eager high school/uni student politely and quickly filling the tank and cleaning your windshield. A deep bow as you drove off. Fuck min wage.
Keep those students away from my car.
Your loss. They don’t smear your windshield with a greasy rag like I remember happening at full service in the states back in the day.
I remember full-service – barely – and it was nothing like that.
Of course, I also found it ridiculously unnecessary even as a little kid.
Hint: That wasn’t grease…
/Paging Crusty…. cs? Q?
A lot of little things are “unnecessary” but make life more pleasant, cost a few coins and provided kids with a small paycheck and work experience.
Oh, I don’t disagree. For awhile it was common here to have a choice, where you could pay an extra buck or two have someone pump your gas for you. I totally understand the convenience. (For example, I pay an extra buck or two to have someone do my laundry for me.)
I was thinking more of the windshield cleaning.
A “full service” gas station is not a value add. It is slower and more annoying than just filling the tank. Plus, it forces ahuman interaction when I just want to get back on the road.
Meh, I can see it as a premium some would pay for, but laws forced them out of business in the places where laws didn’t keep them in practice; anti-market laws all the way down.
They can always mandate full service like NJ or like Oregon used to.
Oregon doesn’t mandate full service, they ban self service except for diesel, commercial cardlock, and now counties with low population. Most of the state has mini-serve, where the pump jockey just fills the tank and takes payment (usually).
Did you not read my link?! Were you not entertained?!
What is that like half a pound? A quart? Quit with yer fern numbers!
About two Leinie’s six packs.
Rich city folk drink Leinie’s, you a rich city folk, BOY?
::remembers back a few years::
Wait–seriously?
Well, probably not the city folk part, although I’d say that’s where the fancy beer drinkers are, and I mean if you drink like a light weight you might not have to be rich; but when you’re drinking an average of 15 beers a night $8 for six pack simply isn’t economical.
So…………………….Adkin’s?
It’s not $1.25 a pour anymore?
Nice. I remember drinking out of a sixtle of champagne when I was in Tokyo.
Are you still on vacation?
Back now. Wife is at work. Kid out with friends. I’m off.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=VZCPXWQt61U
Ah – so now it’s the real vacation after the “vacation”. Nice.
Kinda like a pre-shower soak.
Or, a sauna.
Laundry, vacuum, lunch for the kid. Done. Now to make dinner and clean the bath. 2 hours total. This housewife thing is easy AF.
Soapland time?
Told you I was off today.
Bon bons!
What kind of primitive beer machine is that? Must have been roughing it.
https://imgur.com/a/PJX8Pf4
Kaiten sushi? Love those things.
Airport lounge. I had heard of such marvelous devices but to see it in action… かんぱい!
Been a few years since she went insane, RosannaNow she’s gone and I have to say…
She hasn’t done anything of note since Silverado, her
retardedspecial needs brother has had better performances in the last 20 years.“Of note”? I’d say her bit part in Pulp was noted (at the time). Eric’s character was more compelling, though, and…………wait a tic! Those poor,crazy birches from Time might just be on to something…
You’re old.
Me too.
✊?
Mental illness is sad. Bullshit signaling on the other hand…
If this pendulum doesn’t reverse soon we are going to have reeducation camps inside 20 years. Of course if it does swing it probably doesn’t swing back on the “treat people like objects vs. treat people with respect” axis, it probably swings on the “who gets oppressed today axis”. I really wish I believed in Hell, because the Marxist slime who foisted this crap on us deserve eternal damnation.
Stopped at the headline. That’s a buzz killer.
What an idiot.
Dammit!
Because one of the disks in the RAID failed, I’m making an updated backup of everything on my NAS. We’re talking literal days of copying to the external drive. Once that’s done, I’ll have the safety net I need to open it up and swap out hardware (I’m not 100% on which drive is drive 6)
you have to much data. It is a liability. De-clutter
You are wrong again.
no one needs more than 1 TB
Good news, you’ve been put on the 64k memory plan.
Ha!
I’ve been asked about cloud storage before. On my connection it takes a week to download 5GB. I have 10TB of local storage. Yeah, that’s not a thing that will work for me.
I’m saturating the data link to the external drive I’m copying to.
My piddling upload speeds would make cloud an even more awful proposition, and ruin internet browsing.
Not to mention the fact that I do not trust the cloud providers with my data, so there’s the time and space required to encrypt all the data. Not worth it.
On my connection it takes a week to download 5GB. – lol
Government granted monopolies mean that even though I’m less than a mile away from a much higher speed connection, I can’t access it. Yay for the unencumbered free market in the US.
I can’t even imagine cloud. My wireless backup crapped out a couple days ago so I got the latest and greatest USB drive and my 40-hour full backup from a couple years ago turned into 8 hours. And I don’t even notice the hourly backups any more. Woot!
Well, as I was in the middle of griping when I tired-posted, I keep forgetting how much is actually on that array. All my media is there, and reading/writing to the array slows down the backup process. So my music is unavailable, which I tend to want in the background while I write. I could play games, but I want to get stuff on paper.
Why did this damn drive have to fail?
Because you’re a white supremacist?
my music is unavailabl – is youtube broken?
Yes, but that’s apparently how they designed it.
Youtube is only for music I don’t want to own.
I always laugh at people who say they don’t need to own movie or show ‘x’ because it’s on Netflix, like that will last forever.
You and me both, brotha. I read how something like Star Trek appears and the disappears from Prime, look over at my collection of DVD’s, and snicker.
Why would anyone want to watch Star Trek ?
I own plenty of movies that I pretty much never go back and watch. I don’t necessarily want to be rid of them, but, it wouldn’t mean much of anything if I did.
That said, if they are really that foolish about online availability, let ’em suffer.
I only buy stuff I am sure I’ll watch multiple times. There’s a few things I haven’t got around to yet but overall it’s worked out well.
Half of my DVDs are like that, but there a bunch I watch over and over. If they’re on streaming I might go that route rather than get up, hunt down the disk, and all. On the other hand, the chaff cluttering up streaming, particularly Netflix, is beginning to outweigh the utility.
I do appreciate not buying a disk (or a book) that I only watch or read once.
I never bought a movie a movie I didn’t love, except for a few when Wal-Mart introduced the $5 bin…
I don’t believe I’ve ever bought one I didn’t love. However, between TV,online, and digital, I virtually never arse with discs these days.
The last discs I remember buying is the B5 series. Watched them once. The standard def shit actually strains my eyes-even watching on Prime.
*wishes my editing software didn’t crash when I tried to make videos for my resolution VS bitrate article I never wrote because the visual aids crashed during rendering*
So I downloaded the Lime s app and this morning I tried to get one of the electric scooters part of my way and could not get the damn things to work. I would have though that would be intuitive. Anyhoo good morning gliberati
The sun blocking tech to save the indigenous vampyre is having an adverse affect on the solar powered scooters?
The scooters are not solar powered
So you’re a Nazi?
::taps C on shoulder, whispers::
I’d love it if he sings “Lost in the Shadows” as he’s riding that thing…
Mornin’, Pie! ‘Night, Pie! 2230 in Manly Time.
Night Spud, Night Pie. Past Midnight in real people time, and I need to get up for work in a few hours.
Nice of you to speak for Rhywun, but, I bet he can chime in on his own.
So you’re saying you didn’t catch fire.
Jakyl is gonna be coming round here I saw on a billboard.
For some reason I read that as Jaeckel and was expecting something else.
I keep telling you: sell and move!
/that’s harsh, even for WI. JJD is the Paula Poundstone of rock
I think I see the intended purpose of the Baltimore Sun.
Meh, as one of those guys that has a bunch of junk in my yard, my priorities differ from others, doesn’t mean anything. I value spending time with family over working my way through the myriad regulations of how to properly dispose of this stuff.
At least that’s your yard. This is a different animal. “Public spaces”, for whatever that’s worth.
I cringe inside when I see people just throw garbage on the ground wherever they happen to be standing because they’re too lazy and/or don’t give a shit.
*raises hand*
I will only offer an observation of my experiences of living in, say, inner city rust-belt towns versus, say, Germany:
Some people don’t give a shit about their surroundings. Some people do.
It’s obvious that plenty of people don’t, at least, to the extent they are willing to take on the effort themselves.
The BS (heh) probably should get off its high horse about someone trying to help, considering all they want is more gov’t interference.
38C. That’s over 100F. The C stands for Cuntlickin’ hot. F for Fuck this shit.
we get 35 today. One of the hotter days of the summer. Overall it was quite mild and excessively rainy
Monday morning it was 15 while I was walking to work. Actually cool. Which is very nice in summer
Trade ya.
38C?! That’s like 75 fl oz! That”ly give you the beetus!
65 here now. I’m running the AC full blast, but it’s only down to 63 inside
It’s dropped into the 70s here but naturally that’s accompanied by 100% humidity. Fuck, I hate summer.
http://imgur.com/gallery/xlLVTX7
Doing just a bit of cleaning and going through tonight.
Ah, you work on the Death Star.
::views evidence::
Hmmm….C’s story checks out.
I hate exposed bus bars.
So you’d rather buses drank in secret? Why do you hate the children!?
I believe this particular design is dated from about 1950 or so, before they believed in insulating connections.
http://imgur.com/gallery/Oq5eKHr
Brushes, from the motor in the print.
http://imgur.com/gallery/eV05Mu2
Clean up your dungeon. It’s embarrassing when company comes over.
Well, look at it this way: You’ll class the place up when it’s your turn.
Creed II was $.99 to rent on Youtube, so I watched it finally, even though it drew it’s story from Rocky IV, it was more a remake of Rocky III. Clubber Lang was way cooler that Drago’s son.
Damn right!
Mr. T was a convincing bad ass.
He sure convinced Super Dave.
How’s it goin’, Chafed?
Good SD. Up at 3 am ET to catch my flight home.
You know where he got those gold chains – and why he kept them?
Do tell.
After breaking up fights in/hustling rude-drunk customers out of the bars/clubs where he was a bouncer there would often be a chain or two on the floor. He would add those to his collection – the understanding was that the owners could always come and ask for them. I’m not sure that nobody ever did come ask but definitely a whole lot of them didn’t think it would be a good idea.
That’s a great story.
Good morning all. In-laws just sold their house in LawnGuy Land and are retiring to Central FL. Consequently, wifey and I are heading out to their place to pick up all the junk they are foisting upon us so they don’t have to schlep it down South – family heirloom silverware and china (growing up on the poorer side, I never understood why thieves stole silverware… now I do; I’m afraid to touch the stuff and just want to pack it all away until our kids are old enough to not break stuff), patio furniture, grill, and PIANO!!!11!! Daughter and I are stupendously excited to have a piano in the house.
For no reason at all, have some Devo – My absolute favorite Devo song from (IMHO) their best album (New Traditionalists)
Are they going to complain Florida is different from NY?
If they’re fool enough to move to Florida, they deserve the heat, humidity, and hurricanes.
All they will get is lower taxes, less corruption, and a lower cost of living.
There are places to get that without subjecting themsevles to the climate, wildlife*, native and not-so-native fauna.
*florida man/woman
Nah. They (well, and us) are the last of wifey’s maternal side in NY; all her siblings and extended relations on that side are already down in Miami Beach (which is why they are going to Ocala). I was born and bred down there so we are heading down as soon as wifey retires.
https://www.wfmz.com/news/lehigh-valley/walmart-customer-arrested-after-making-temple-university-threats/1104047102
The article is a bit vague, but clearly this dude is guilty of being fucking stupid (at a minimum).
“Buhler told cops his comments were a mistake and he did not know what he was thinking when he said them.” He was thinking no one will say anything.
https://nationaldaycalendar.com/national-sneak-some-zucchini-into-your-neighbors-porch-day-august-8/
Not a euphemism.
“…one plant of zucchini allows you to share this wonderful treat!”
That’s what I’ve been trying to tell my neighbor too but she doesn’t seem to get it.