Fugly Replacements

Back when I posted Fugly Houses (follow the link for the full flavor) wherein an entire subdivision in Britishland was ordered to be demolished because of “foundation issues”, I said this about the demolished houses:

“However, I will not offer odds that the rebuilt houses will look any different from their predecessors.”

And sadly, my prophecy has proved to be correct:

Ugh.  They look like the cell blocks in a Level 3 penitentiary.

Dept. Of Righteous Shootings

So this mope and his cocksocket decide to indulge in a little undocumented shopping at a city drugstore.  An employee stops said socket and takes away the merchandise from her, whereupon the choirboy, enraged at the audacity, pulls a gun.

And gets shot dead by another employee.

Sadly, instead of being given the keys to the city or at least being promoted, Our Hero will most likely be fired because a.) Chicago and b.) Walgreens.

I will be delighted beyond words if I’m proved wrong when this does not happen.
#OddsAgainst100-1

Final Song

Brits were polled recently on which song they’d like to hear in their dying moments, and oy vey:

…and all I have to say is:  FFS.

  1. Having Sinatra bellowing his out-of-tune signature song would only hasten my demise by making me roar in rage and pain.  Fucking hell, imagine taking that noise with you into eternity.
  2. Ditto Whitney Houston’s braying version of that lovely Dolly Parton lament.  (I might just accept Dolly’s version, though.)
  3. I love me some Tina Turner, but not Simply The Best.
  4. Ditto Judy Garland, but not the syrupy Over The Rainbow.
  5. And being on my deathbed can hardly be called “having fun”, unless Salma Hayek has granted my dying wish.
  6. I don’t believe in angels, even when sung by Abba.
  7. Finally a song I could listen to without bellowing in rage.  Sing it to me, Satchmo.  It would be my 1b). choice.
  8. I don’t know Beautiful, so no comment.
  9. Hmmmm a Beatles song… not Hey Jude;  shuffling off the mortal coil with “Na na na nana na na” ringing in your ears would be just an unspeakable prospect.
  10. Okay, I wouldn’t mind a Queen song, just not that one.  Depending on my mood, I could do Bohemian Rhapsody (or Fat-Bottomed Girls, so I could leave with a smile on my face).

Actually, the last song I’d like to hear is September Song.  And yes, Willie’s version.  I can think of no better way to slide into oblivion — and if I could be greedy, his entire Stardust  album.

Worth Knowing

From Friend & Longtime Reader JCinPA:

I’ve been handicapping the probability of widespread violence around the election—I mean as in nationwide—for a couple of years and now I believe any sentient person knows it is now virtually 100%. The only question remaining is which side wins the election, that will determine which side kicks off the festivities, but we will have festivities.

For any of your readers who are not firearms enthusiasts (there must be 1 or 2?), you may want to put this out as a public service announcement. Good condition S&W police surplus revolvers. Add $50-75 for s&h and processing, but in the unlikely event someone has no weapon and is now regretting that fact, these are the ticket for the non-shooter.

Along with four to five 5-gal water bottles and some 4patriot food packs, it’s time to get prepared.

All good advice and two good links.  Thankee, my friend.

I actually added some supplies to the SHTF cupboard a day or two ago, for no apparent reason.  Hadn’t done it for a while, but something must have been tickling my antenna.  And I don’t think I’m the only one…