Thursday, August 06, 2015

A demonstration anti-thought.

The thugs in black robes need some lessons in logic.

At the very least.

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Tuesday, July 07, 2015

Can you smell the irony in the air

Think the agent will get anything other than a black mark in his sleeve?

Me neither.

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Monday, July 06, 2015

No one can claim we didn't warn them

Command and control isn't a good method for any economy, and it certainly isn't good for creating an environment where costs are the primary factor in attaining the product or service; you see, we have PROOF that you were lying all along.

Barry, you're an imbecile of proportions that hard to fathom.

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Wednesday, July 01, 2015

This will be on the exam

So pay attention:
Declarations of unmet social needs have preceded every expansion of the welfare state and of course, such needs can only be met by removing money from some people’s pockets and putting it other people’s pockets. The pickpockets claim the mantle of “nice,” or more grandiosely, “humanitarian,” while protests from the pick-pocketed prove that they’re selfish and mean, the evil opposite of nice. That pursuit of happiness thing implies a certain selfishness, so it has been modified. You can marry someone of the same sex if that floats your boat. (Gay marriage isn’t just nice, it’s rainbow nice!). If you’d be happy keeping what you’ve earned, forget about it. You’re selfish and mean, and it’s a good thing Facebook doesn’t have a thumbs down, or you’d get a bunch of them. Besides, letting you keep what you earn would pull the rug out from under Obamacare, which the Supreme Court just twisted itself into a linguistic pretzel to save.
Bookmark Robert Gore and read often.

Things will get worse.

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Monday, June 22, 2015

Hey boy

Go look here first.

Until you can be honest with yourself and admit, first, that YOU KNOW NOTHING, you CAN NOT engage with me about this subject.

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Sunday, June 21, 2015

Curious to know...

...what the sales numbers have been for the last 48 hours or so.

We've seen this before.

Barry, you're a stupid fuck.

That is all.

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Saturday, May 16, 2015


Mom picked you out of the remaining sisters of your litter. You had a dirty, oily mark above your eyes and you climbed atop your siblings to get the best view you could of the big people standing over you, attempting to get some attention.

It worked.

Twelve years plus, a dickey right hip and a left bionic knee later, you were still chipper and eager to run around the yard just last night after I finished cutting the grass.

I called for you after Mom lost sight of you in the back yard, sure that you'd run off to see the rest of the neighborhood. Instead, you were right there on the porch, looking down at me with those beady, black eyes and your tail up. You ran around to join us and played in the yard with me for a few minutes, enjoying a good scratch around the neck, while Mom finished looking after her garden.

We all came inside to clean up for the evening and settled down for bed.

You passed sometime in the night, in your usual spot on the tile, family upstairs. Peacefully.

Thanks for being the best dog I've ever had, Montana. Your passing comes just three months after your little sister.

It will be hard, and we will always miss you.