Author: Kim du Toit

Tole Ya

Ethics, Men & Women

Back here (warning:  contains a pic of Donna Reed’s boobies), I wondered what would happen when people started thinking about sexbots that look like kiddies.  Well, now we know:

With little discussion, House lawmakers unanimously passed the CREEPER Act by Rep. Dan Donovan, R-N.Y., in June [2018] to ban importation and interstate commerce involving “any child sex doll,” though the Senate has not acted.
Donovan said in a statement that his bill would “help better protect innocent children from predators” and urged the Senate “to follow the House’s lead and swiftly pass this legislation that would benefit our communities.”

Didn’t take long, did it?

As for the main story, I have a simple question:  since when did prostitution come to include charging people (essentially) to masturbate, and providing a place in which to do it create a brothel?

Asking for a friend.

Tole Ya Part 2

Gummint

I’ve often noted that when otherwise law-abiding people are driven to kill government agents, it’s mostly because said government is either taking or destroying that person’s property.  Here’s one such example:

Albert Dryden gunned down Harry Collinson in front of journalists when his illegally-built bungalow was due to be demolished in Butsfield, County Durham in 1991.
Harry Collinson was enforcing the demolition of Dryden’s illegally-built bungalow when Dryden drew a First World War gun and shot him dead in front of local media on June 20, 1991.
As well as shooting 46-year-old Mr Collinson, he also wounded police officer Stephen Campbell in the buttock and reporter Tony Belmont in the arm.

Okay, you maniacs can quit laughing now… although you have to admit that shooting a cop in the Butsfield [sic] and blasting a reporter may well have caused a quick grin or even a chuckle in some quarters.  You should be ashamed of yourselves.

Note that the dramatis personae of the shootees was the bureaucrat enforcing the dumb rule, the cop providing the weight of the law to its enforcement, and the media lizard who came to film (and broadcast) the confrontation because media gonna media.

Note too that all this took place in oh-so disarmed Britishland, which should offer a lesson to all gummint types, namely:  don’t fuck with an old fart who has nothing to lose.

The only glum part of the report is that Our Hero apparently repented in later life.  Not sure I would.

Helping Hand

Righteous Shootings, The Gun Thing

Well that doesn’t quite fit The Narrative, does it?

A man with a concealed-carry license was commended for coming to the aid of Cicero police who were engaged in a shootout with a man who shot and wounded an officer near the Stevenson Expressway Thursday, authorities said.
Cicero Police Officer Luis Duarte, 31, was shot four times during the encounter near the 4200 block of South Cicero Avenue during the evening rush hour, but it might have been worse if the armed citizen hadn’t stepped in, officials said.
“We were lucky enough to have a citizen on the street there who’s a concealed-carry holder, and he also engaged in gunfire,” Cicero Police Supt. Jerry Chlada Jr. said outside Mount Sinai Hospital, where Duarte was undergoing surgery Thursday night.

And in Chicago, even.  No cries yet about “vigilante justice” from The Usual Suspects, but no doubt they’ll be coming soon.

Cruel Bastards

Food & Drink

As we all know (because they never cease to tell us), the cult known as “vegans” (and its sub-cult, “vegetarians”) refuse to eat animal-derived foods because of the cruelty inflicted on the animals.

Now, thanks to !!! SCIENCE !!! we can disclose that these smug assholes are just as cruel as we carnivores are.

Plants have a sense of touch – and they can even ‘feel’ you picking their leaves. A new study has shown how plant leaves can fire pain signals, which are similar to those found in humans, to warn neighboring leaves of impending danger.

I don’t even want to think about the pitiful screams of carrots as they’re forcibly plucked from the earth, and don’t get me started on the genocide and mass dismemberment inflicted by the combine harvester in a field of wheat.

Caution:  image below may be upsetting!

This vicious cruelty has to be stopped.  We need to start a boycott of Massey-Ferguson, John Deere and other manufacturers of these weapons of mass destruction.  I know that the likely outcome will be the starvation of vegans and vegetarians, but it’s a small price to pay.  If it saves the life of one tomato…

Best Comedy TV (Part 4)

Entertainment

The Bob Newhart Show

Back when I were a lad in South Africa, there was no TV (it was only “allowed” by the government in 1975).  So I used to listen to LPs.  (Younger Readers can have their grandparents explain this term to them.)

And if I wasn’t listening to rock ‘n roll, I was listening to comedy records — and more often than not, to Bob Newhart, again and again and again, simply because his deadpan delivery always had me in stitches.

[Walter Raleigh phoning England to let King Bob know what was happening in the Virginia Colony, and listening to the King’s response to the explanation of tobacco]:

“So Walt, what do you do with the dried leaves?  Uh huh… uh huh… you roll them up in paper, and then… you stick it in your mouth?  Of course you do, Walt.  And then what?  No wait, don’t tell me… really?  You set it on fire!  And it makes you cough… of course it does.  Walt, I hate to break it to you, but come the fall here in England, we get quite a few dried leaves ourselves…”  and so on.

So when I emigrated to the U.S. (a.k.a. The Great Wetback Episode of ’86) and discovered The Bob Newhart Show in reruns (on Nickelodeon, I think), bang went that part of my day.

“CBS decided it wanted to concentrate more of the show on my job as a psychologist.  I think one of the reasons for the change is that some CBS officials heard the word “condominium” and thought the show was about sex.”

Only Newhart as “Bob Hartley” could make psychology funny — as opposed to simply pathetic — and often was the time I woke the neighbors with my roars of helpless laughter.  And like so many of the good comedy shows I’ve been talking about, the supporting cast members of Newhart were wonderful, my favorite being long-time patient, the hapless Mr. Carlin.

But nothing repeat nothing compared to Emily.  I’d had a serious boyhood crush on Suzanne Pleshette (OMG that voice), and seeing her as Mrs. Hartley each episode made things a lot worse.  She’s still one of my all-time favorites.

Newhart on Hartley:

“Well, if you’re a native Chicagoan, you know how dumb he [Dr. Robert Hartley] is. He gets on the Ravenswood El, he goes past his stop on Sheridan Road, he gets off in Evanston, where the El is on the ground, and then he walks back 55 blocks to his apartment. Now, would you want to have that man as a psychologist? A man who misses his stop every day?”

(By the way, an honorable mention goes to the follow-on Newhart series, thanks to the brothers Larry, Darryl and the other brother, Darryl;  as deadpan as Newhart, and absurd withal.  And the final reveal in the last episode of Newhart was one of the greatest ever filmed.)