Tag: Humor

Stuff that makes me laugh

News Roundup

Bad News

Yesterday’s news, delivered a day late and a trillion dollars short, just like the Biden so-called “administration”.


…despite the fact that :


…and believe me, if it had, we’d all be wearing masks today.  [/sarc]


…no wonder the Left is going apeshit about FuturePOTUS De Santis.


…and she’s going to be fired in 3…2…1…


…is this even news anymore?  Then again:


…so it’s not ALL bad news.  Then again:


…having borrowed a white flag from EU partner France, no doubt.

From the Dept. of Suckage:


…he’s not well-known in Murka, but should be  (see link for example).


…you had me at “not apologizing to fucking people”.


…and they said the age of romance was dead.


…down to WHERE, exactly?

And now comes the time for INSIGNIFICA:


…Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard were unavailable for comment.

Here are some other “persecuted” women:

Carole Landis

Greta Garbo

Mara Corday

Brenda Venus

Sophia Loren

Oh, how these poor women must have suffered…

Screw Modernity

Modernism, Two-Minute Hate

Whenever I’m stuck to describe how I feel about something, I almost always resort to the classics, because every situation in modern times has occurred, sometimes often, in the past, and we’re just experiencing reruns.

I had to go to WalMart for an emergency purchase — they don’t sell gin, but they do sell tonic — and as I saw the usual tragic shoppers pawing through the worthless clothing, fall-apart utensils and cheap furniture, my mind wandered off to the tragedy of the current “pipeline” issues which are making people fearful that they won’t get the plastic toys for their kiddies in time for Xmas (not Christmas), or which are forcing people to wait an extra week for their must-have cheap kitchen appliances (avg lifetime:  months, not years), and it stirred within my memory this immortal poem, written in 1902:

Cargoes
by John Masefield

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.

Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amythysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.

Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rails, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.

Substitute “rusty Chinese container ship” for the dirty British coaster, and you have the modern take on the earlier perspective, in a nutshell.

Then I heard on the radio some guy moaning about the fact that his car’s “management” chip had recently failed, thus rendering his Mercedes into an immobile, upholstered metal/plastic cube, and I thought longingly back to the days when a car’s management system was its driver, not some multi-pronged Chinese piece of silicon.

I fucking hate the modern world.

I think I’ll take the Mauser for a trip to the gun range.  No batteries to fail, no chips to malfunction, its technology tried and tested for over a hundred years.  Only its old and imperfect management system can screw things up.  And I prefer it that way.