Brain Dump
The following are things I've been meaning to blog about but have not gotten around to posting. Clicking on images should get you a better view (if that's what you want). In no particular order:
Skegness is SO Bracing:
I've always said that.
Can we somehow thin the herd around here? Like starting with these types:
And can we send the murderous jack-booted thugs of the Denver Police Department with them? It's embarrassing to me that the Democratic Party would have let these brain-dead barbarians off the hook for their many documented instances of blatant abuse against (Democratic) friend and foe alike. Any excuse to kill a motherfucker who fails to "respect their authoritah" I guess. And note the delightful t-shirts the DPD made for themselves to commemorate the savagery:
Jesus Zombie Christ I'm glad to be away from there. I lived there for nearly twenty years and NEVER had a good experience with them. If you need help in Denver, just handle it yourself because adding these monsters will only make things worse. Also hope that they don't just decide to shoot and kill you anyway (they may still lead the nation in police killings).
Then I ran across this:
In the 7 deadly sins department, I'm five for seven. Not bad. I particularly like the "lust" pile. I could hang out there for a spell. *ahem*
Those who know me in the "meat world" know that it doesn't take much to get me on a righteous tirade about Walt Fucking Disney, and this little gem made the rounds on the internet lately and merely underscores what a burning douche this "national treasure" was. Rot in hell Walt, you fetid bit of cream cheese covered afterbirth.
In happier fantasy thoughts, I saw this. Oh Leia, how I wanted to DO things to you. Pardon me, I need a moment.
Every time I see a headline about sex slaves, I always WANT it to be a story like what's pictured above, but in the end it's always some soul crushing story about kidnapped girls forced to work in brothels in third world tourist places. Where are all the happy sex slave stories damn it? These Leias look happy. They make me happy. Pardon me- need another moment.
So, being of Scotch-Irish decent, I was aware from the time I was little that my family name had a coat of arms, and woo hoo hoo- it features a boobie!. It's a bizarre thing that also features a bird of some kind chewing a wound in it's breast so that the blood can feed it's offspring. Cheerful, eh? I prefer to think of the boobie (it was lactating). Lot of fertility images for just one coat of arms, and perhaps accordingly, I not only had no difficulty in knocking up Miss Schmoopie, but told her immediately after the filthy carnal episode was complete that she was "in a family way" both times (and was right). I later learned my father had done the same with my mother. Weird. In any event, I first saw the coat of arms I was really little and didn't like the colors and didn't give it a second thought. Later, it became popular to have coats of arms made for family names that didn't have them, and a cottage industry was born. I don't think the one I saw in my youth was a contemporary creation, but really don't know. Something jogged it in my memory recently and I thought that if the coat was historically genuine, then I may also have a tartan. I looked it up, and I do. It's fucking hideous:
So my ancestors were tasteless breeders. Fucking lovely.
I'm not all that into cars, and my next new car purchase will be 100% electric, so it'll be a while before I change vehicles, but THIS friggin thing scratches where I itch:
Just imagine it in green with gun-metal grey wheels. Ooh la la...
Finally, I've no idea what's happening here, but this is how I feel these days:
Skegness is SO Bracing:
I've always said that.
Can we somehow thin the herd around here? Like starting with these types:
And can we send the murderous jack-booted thugs of the Denver Police Department with them? It's embarrassing to me that the Democratic Party would have let these brain-dead barbarians off the hook for their many documented instances of blatant abuse against (Democratic) friend and foe alike. Any excuse to kill a motherfucker who fails to "respect their authoritah" I guess. And note the delightful t-shirts the DPD made for themselves to commemorate the savagery:
Jesus Zombie Christ I'm glad to be away from there. I lived there for nearly twenty years and NEVER had a good experience with them. If you need help in Denver, just handle it yourself because adding these monsters will only make things worse. Also hope that they don't just decide to shoot and kill you anyway (they may still lead the nation in police killings).
Then I ran across this:
In the 7 deadly sins department, I'm five for seven. Not bad. I particularly like the "lust" pile. I could hang out there for a spell. *ahem*
Those who know me in the "meat world" know that it doesn't take much to get me on a righteous tirade about Walt Fucking Disney, and this little gem made the rounds on the internet lately and merely underscores what a burning douche this "national treasure" was. Rot in hell Walt, you fetid bit of cream cheese covered afterbirth.
In happier fantasy thoughts, I saw this. Oh Leia, how I wanted to DO things to you. Pardon me, I need a moment.
Every time I see a headline about sex slaves, I always WANT it to be a story like what's pictured above, but in the end it's always some soul crushing story about kidnapped girls forced to work in brothels in third world tourist places. Where are all the happy sex slave stories damn it? These Leias look happy. They make me happy. Pardon me- need another moment.
So, being of Scotch-Irish decent, I was aware from the time I was little that my family name had a coat of arms, and woo hoo hoo- it features a boobie!. It's a bizarre thing that also features a bird of some kind chewing a wound in it's breast so that the blood can feed it's offspring. Cheerful, eh? I prefer to think of the boobie (it was lactating). Lot of fertility images for just one coat of arms, and perhaps accordingly, I not only had no difficulty in knocking up Miss Schmoopie, but told her immediately after the filthy carnal episode was complete that she was "in a family way" both times (and was right). I later learned my father had done the same with my mother. Weird. In any event, I first saw the coat of arms I was really little and didn't like the colors and didn't give it a second thought. Later, it became popular to have coats of arms made for family names that didn't have them, and a cottage industry was born. I don't think the one I saw in my youth was a contemporary creation, but really don't know. Something jogged it in my memory recently and I thought that if the coat was historically genuine, then I may also have a tartan. I looked it up, and I do. It's fucking hideous:
So my ancestors were tasteless breeders. Fucking lovely.
I'm not all that into cars, and my next new car purchase will be 100% electric, so it'll be a while before I change vehicles, but THIS friggin thing scratches where I itch:
Just imagine it in green with gun-metal grey wheels. Ooh la la...
Finally, I've no idea what's happening here, but this is how I feel these days:
Labels: Purging material
posted by Stucco at 2:20 PM
5 Comments:
OMFG that letter was even written by a woman... for shame!
Chris really liked the slave Leia's pillow fight pic too...
You feel like standing naked in ice water and whacking a bigger ice-hole with an axe?
So where's a picture of this coat-of-boobies? Er, I mean, arms?
So you know, don't you, that for gentlemen of our...ahem...stature to fit in cars like that it'd take an industrial size drum of butter and all those Leias pushing to get us inside, right?
Leias....butter...tiny sports car...hang on, be right back.
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