Saturday, September 28, 2019

Dogs Can Reaffirm Your Faith In Humanity, Something Many Humans Can’t Do

The world is going to the dogs. Maybe they are more worthy.

Instead of whining about it all the time they welcome climate change with open paws,

and embrace it with reckless abandon

while waiting patiently for the next climate change to happen.

Never once do they yip at you about your carbon footprint

Image result for dogs and people footprints

or snarl “how dare you!” at you. They think if you are responsible for this climate change thing you must be a god.

And if they do get a little preachy they’re really just lobbying for extra portions…of beef.

So I dedicate this first official Saturday of autumn to all the dogs: the doggies you love, have loved and will ever love. Where would we be without them?

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P.S. If MichellenotThatone is around she might share the results of Clover’s DNA test during halftime. I understand it was a bit surprising.

Friday, September 27, 2019

I See Whistleblowers Everywhere

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Thursday, September 26, 2019

Throwback Thursday: Nancy’s Great Migration

For today’s throwback I thought it would be fun to look back over the years and track the great migration of Nancy Pelosi’s eyebrows.

Note that as a bright, starry-eyed ingenue Nancy’s brows started out in the position designated by the golden ratio. At this time she was busy learning her political skills from her father, Baltimore Democratic Mayor Thomas D'Alesandro Jr.. She was responsible for managing his book of people who owed him political favors.

The brows were still positioned appropriately after marrying and moving to California in the early 60s. Here we see them in 1976 while she was working on the presidential campaign of former California Gov. Pat Brown.

By 1984 we see the beginning of the great migration

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when she was appointed head of the Democratic National Committee's San Francisco host committee, specializing in raising money for the state’s left-leaning candidates.

Still a bit north of that golden ratio sweet spot when she ran and won a House seat in 1987:

By 1996 Nancy and her eyebrows, anxious to advance, sponsored a bill sanctioning China for violating US copyrights. She urged President Clinton to pressure China to live up to its agreement to protect US software. During that same term she also passionately opposed the Republicans’ impeachment of President Clinton, which she categorized as a hate filled gesture.

Some 20 years on and her eyebrows and forehead both seem to have continued their migration north while her policies and boobs head south.

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She no longer believes that China has to live up to any trade rules or agreements, and she no longer sees anything wrong with a presidential impeachment driven by" “vengeance.”

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Moral: All borders are arbitrary, nobody is illegal except President Trump and stretching in Washington is a way of life -  be the truth or your skin.

Oh, and when your eyebrows mimic the barrel ceiling in the background it might be time to stop.

Wednesday, September 25, 2019

Enmity Sells

Madame Speaker hasn’t always felt the same way about impeachment, because in her line of business it always depends on whose ox is being gored.

Hence our new battle cry: If you’ve nothing concrete, you must impeach! Because these funds aren’t going to raise themselves.

Image result for calvin hobbes divert attention

And Madame Pelosi knows that her base wants what she’s selling.

Tuesday, September 24, 2019

Twilight Zone Tuesday

Which Twilight Zone is your personal nightmare?

Or possibly it’s the one where an unhinged 16 year old is held up as the earth’s last great white hope.

“I’ll get you, my pretty. And your little dog too.”

Monday, September 23, 2019

Facebook Needs a New “A” For Effort Key

There are so many things wrong with this story - “He went underwater to propose to his girlfriend, but he didn't live to hear her say ‘yes’” - and all of them are related to social media.

Steven Weber died during a marriage proposal in Tanzania, his family says. Photo: Kenesha Antoine Via Facebook

Before Facebook/Twitter/Instagram reduced all significant life events to the ubiquitous selfie and/or video clip it might have been sufficient to take your girlfriend to a $1700/night resort, where you booked a glass room submerged 30 feet below water, to propose. But then, I’m so old that I remember when that trip wouldn’t have happened until after the wedding so what do I know?

But now in order to amp up the Facebook likes on your awesome proposal you have to do a 30 foot free dive with the ring and proposal for your girlfriend to video. Too bad you don’t make it back atop alive. At least your intended will always have the video to remember you by.

If you think I’m being harsh and unfeeling I refer you to Kenisha Antoine’s Facebook page where she posted the entire ill-fated proposal posthumously. Honestly, I can’t wrap my head around this new style public celebration and mourning. Nor can I comprehend clicking the “like” button on such a post but what else do you do?

Image result for pls like and share

Facebook doesn’t have an “A” for effort, “F” for execution key.

Sunday, September 22, 2019

Autumn Equinox: Coming Soon


When Summer gathers up her robes of glory,

  And like a dream of beauty glides away.

I LOVE to wander through the woodlands hoary

  In the soft light of an autumnal day,

When Summer gathers up her robes of glory,

  And like a dream of beauty glides away.

How through each loved, familiar path she lingers,


  Serenely smiling through the golden mist,

Tinting the wild grape with her dewy fingers

  Till the cool emerald turns to amethyst;

Kindling the faint stars of the hazel, shining

  To light the gloom of Autumn’s mouldering halls,


With hoary plumes the clematis entwining

  Where o’er the rock her withered garland falls.

Warm lights are on the sleepy uplands waning

  Beneath soft clouds along the horizon rolled,

Till the slant sunbeams through their fringes raining


Bathe all the hills in melancholy gold.

The moist winds breathe of crispèd leaves and flowers

  In the damp hollows of the woodland sown,

Mingling the freshness of autumnal showers

  With spicy airs from cedarn alleys blown.


Beside the brook and on the umbered meadow,

  Where yellow fern-tufts fleck the faded ground,

With folded lids beneath their palmy shadow

  The gentian nods, in dewy slumbers bound.

Upon those soft, fringed lids the bee sits brooding,


Like a fond lover loath to say farewell,

Or with shut wings, through silken folds intruding,

  Creeps near her heart his drowsy tale to tell.

The little birds upon the hillside lonely

  Flit noiselessly along from spray to spray,

Silent as a sweet wandering thought that only

  Shows its bright wings and softly glides away