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Rough Justice

Good Stuff, Righteous Shootings

As Longtime Readers know, I’ve always been something of a cheerleader when it comes to citizens defending themselves against the predations of the lawless.  And of course, the concept of “righteous shootings”, so often celebrated on these pages, is very much part of that cheerleading.

But it’s not just guns.  Let’s go with this happy little tale from South Africa:

A raging mother beat a rapist to death with the help of an angry mob after finding her disabled daughter undressed at his house in South Africa.

The 44-year-old – who has been dubbed ‘warrior woman’ in her village – arrived home after shopping in Cacadu, Eastern Province, last month to find her 20-year-old girl missing.

Neighbors told her [the daughter] was last seen walking with a 65-year-old local man to his house and when she stormed in she found the pair in a state of undress on the bed.

A furious mob who had followed the woman – who cannot be named to protect the identity of the victim – also entered the suspect’s small holding and witnessed the scene.

And the good news:

The mother was arrested and charged with murder but has now been cleared following a public outcry. 

I should bloody well hope so.

Here’s another story of a goblin getting what was coming to him:

Investigators say a possible intruder at home in Coweta County was mauled to death by the homeowner’s dogs. They say the resident returned home Friday morning and discovered a dead man on his front porch.  

An autopsy confirmed the cause of death as a dog attack. Investigators say the evidence indicates the man was inside where the dogs were located at some point but died outside the home.

I’m assuming that the “evidence” included bits of the intruder found inside the home.  And:

No charges are expected against the home owner.

Once again, I should bloody well hope not.

Here’s the not-so-good aftermath, however:

Authorities had seized the dogs as part of the investigation. It has not yet been determined what happens next for them.

I’m thinking they should each be given a tasty (animal, this time) bone to chew on as a reward — but that’s not the way to bet, because the dogs may well be slaughtered, just for doing their job.

And sadly, unlike in the earlier story, there’ll be no public outcry to save them.  Here’s a pic of our two Heroes:

Imagine the look on the burglar’s face when these two puppies ran at him… and if that visual doesn’t put a smile on your face, I can’t help you.

Thoughts For The Upcoming Hallmark Holiday

The Gun Thing

…from the folks at Palmetto State Armory:

Tagline:  “Roses Are Nice. Rifles Are Better.”

My sentiments exactly.  Roses die, but a decent rifle is forever.

So for all you lucky guys out there whose wives enjoy shooting, here’s a thought (link in pic):

I’d have suggested one with rose-pink furniture, but PSA doesn’t sell them.

Back-Door Marketing

Marketing / Advertising, Travels

No, it has nothing to do with ass.  Sorry.  Before “back door” (like “adult”) became a porn industry expression, back-door marketing was a kind of marketing whereby you appealed to a consumer via unfamiliar (or apparently so) means — you know, get a free trip to Florida, free as long as you agree to listen to a 60-minute sales pitch for a time-share purchase.  That’s about the best example I can give.

Here’s another:  in my Inbox yesterday came this offer from American Airlines:

Note that the ticket may not be on American, but on their “partner” airline Qantarse, on which I have vowed never to fly, ever.  (Details here and here, for Those Of Short Memory.)

In my case of course, not only have I blanked Qantarse but also the entire continent of Strylia because fukkem, the foul bureaucratic pricks.  Even the presence of Beloved Grandchildren are insufficient incentives to get me to that poxy country, which should tell you everything.

And the next time I fly American — which is going to be a looooong time in the future — I’ll use up my paltry not-so-frequent flier miles instead of dollars because fukkem too.

Long Waits

Housekeeping

Every so often I come across a meme, cartoon or expression which makes me chortle… except that it is extremely date- or time specific, and can only be posted at a certain time or on a specific date, e.g.

So I have a folder on my system called “Date Specific” which contains all of those, and inside are sub-folders with names like “Tax Day 04-15”, “National Ammo Day 11-19” and so on, in which I keep said objects.

So a couple days ago (May 5) Reader Steve D. (who is, I think, Hispanic) sent me an email which contained the following:

Bravo, Steve.  It took me a minute, of course, because Sinko Da Mayo is amazingly not a date which resonates with me, particularly as it isn’t as relevant to me as dates such as a former South African client’s daughter’s birth date (don’t ask, I never even met her) or the day I first French-kissed a girl (December 17, 1968) and so on.

Anyway.

The only problem (for me, anyway) is that I have to keep a mental note of annual calendar dates so that I can post the appropriate entry — and given my advanced state of age-related mental diffusion, that’s becoming increasingly difficult.

Which sucks, because if I happen to miss the date and fail to post the thing, I have to wait a whole damn year before it becomes relevant again.

Here’s one I missed last July 4th, for instance:

Please forgive this addled old blogger…

Sucker

Drive Time

I can’t be the only one who has this problem.

Every time Iain Tyrell fixes a car up and then takes it out for test drive, I want one.  Even when, as here, it’s a notoriously capricious and finicky Ferrari Berlinetta Boxer.

The worst thing the world’s most erudite car mechanic ever did to me, though, was rekindle my love for the Dino 246 GT, after fixing one up and taking it for a spin;  this, despite my having driven a 246 many years ago and being utterly unimpressed with its stiff clutch and clunky gearbox.  And when he talks about setting up the car’s door handle to perform, in his words, “like a hair-trigger on a rifle”, then I really, really want one.  Again.  Even if it would set one back close to or over a half-million dollars.  Pshaw.

The utter bastard even teaches one how to buy a Dino.


That one’s only a measly $375,000… a bargain — not — when the original 1969 Dino would have set you back $5,000 (or about $35,000 today.)

So yes, I am a complete and unashamed sucker when it comes to this stuff, and I blame Mr. Tyrrell completely.  Feel free to share your own inexplicable automotive crushes in Comments.

Random Totty

Gratuitous Chick Pics

In the world of professional snooker (“WTF Kim?”)  there are few better sights to see than Scottish referee Michaela Tabb:

Sadly, the TV cameras spend most of their time looking at the non-essential stuff like the players and the table layout instead of Michaela, but sometimes they do slip up:

And if that last pic got you looking, here are a few non-referee-type pics:

By the way, she’s nudging 60 — but this is one granny who could make a few bucks on OnlyFans, you betcha.