Here’s Kelly Brook, looking fine as always on her way to work:
No need to thank me, it’s all part of the service.
Here’s Kelly Brook, looking fine as always on her way to work:
No need to thank me, it’s all part of the service.
Blogging has always been fun. It’s fairly easy for me to write about, well, anything, and when all else fails, there’s always this:
…this:
…or this:
In these times, however — the times that try men’s souls (to coin a phrase) — there seems little incentive to pass comment about what just happened to us, and what is likely to happen to us. All I feel is sullen rage, resentment and a burning desire to bite the head off a rattlesnake.
I wish sometimes that I could be a Lefty, and take to the streets, burn shit down and in general act like a 10-year-old child; but I can’t do that. The very thought of causing destruction to innocent people’s property, or beating people up in the streets, or doing any of that crap that the Left are so fond of doing when they feel aggrieved — well, I’m not going to do any of it. Futile gestures are not my thing.
But at the same time, I feel like I’m living in some kind of hellish limbo. I know, this is no doubt how the Left felt after Hillary Clinton lost; but the difference is that while Trump was never going to put homosexuals into concentration camps, or overturn Roe v. Wade, or start deporting people en masse, there is every reason to suspect that the new crop of Lefties really are going to raise our taxes, try to confiscate our guns, muzzle our voices and fuck up our economy under the guise of “saving the planet” or some such bullshit.
So please forgive me if over the next few days or so the quality of this blog seems to head downhill, wherein I seem to be just mailing it in instead of giving it the gas.
Normal service will resume shortly, probably with even more invective and loathing than before. Right now, however, I just feel like tying George Soros to a chair and beating him to death with a baseball bat.
And I may just reconfigure this blog somewhat, with a new, less self-pitying name. Watch this space, and content yourself with this thought:
With all the Christmas excitement and such, I forgot to mention that Carol Vorderman turned 60 last week.
And a flashback to her 50th:
Yer welcome.
Seen SOTI:
“You’ve got to understand that Farrah [Fawcett] was larger than life in 1980. Not in a forced-manufactured Lady Gaga kind of way, but in a genuine ‘Good Lord, Farrah makes me sweat profusely!’ kind of way.”
Yup.
I know we just looked at Kelly Brook yesterday, but I’m so weak:
Go on, shout at me in Comments. You know you want to.
In all the frenzy of Chinkvirus panic and the resulting pandemic theater (i.e wearing face condoms which, from all accounts, do little or nothing to actually prevent the spread of the virus, but like the TSA at airports, at least give the appearance of Doing Something ), we have this wonderful example of I-don’t-give-a-fuckitude from someone named Lana Del Rey:
Heheheh… if you’re going to show absolute contempt, then this is the way to do it.
Of course, the uproar has been intense:
Taking to Twitter to share their anger, one person said: ‘I cant belive lana is actually wearing this mask to…..socially interact with people..this is so irresponsible.’
A different fan put: ‘Why is she at an event with a bunch of people wearing a mesh mask??? I love Lana but this is incredibly irresponsible.’
Another follower commented: ‘LANA WEARING A MESH MASK TO AN EVENT FOR HER POETRY WTF So irresponsible.’
…etc. etc. etc.
Me, I’m just chuckling, because you know what’s coming up next, don’t you?
Wait for it…
Government regulations mandating a minimum thread count per inch for cloth face masks!
You heard it here first.