this is i don’t even my mind is snapping under the strain

What. THE HELL. Is. This?!?!?!

Ermengarde Stubbs was the beauteous blonde daughter of Hiram Stubbs, a poor but honest farmer-bootlegger of Hogton, Vt. Her name was originally Ethyl Ermengarde, but her father persuaded her to drop the praenomen after the passage of the 18th Amendment, averring that it made him thirsty by reminding him of ethyl alcohol, C2H5OH. His own products contained mostly methyl or wood alcohol, CH3OH. Ermengarde confessed to sixteen summers, and branded as mendacious all reports to the effect that she was thirty. She had large black eyes, a prominent Roman nose, light hair which was never dark at the roots except when the local drug store was short on supplies, and a beautiful but inexpensive complexion. She was about 5ft 5.33…in tall, weighed 115.47 lbs. on her father’s copy scales—also off them—and was adjudged most lovely by all the village swains who admired her father’s farm and liked his liquid crops.

It goes on. Terrifyingly, it goes on – and yeah, you’re going to have to click through to see the author. Ia, Ia-Ia, Ia-Ia…

Via Cracked and AoSHQ.


…and, wow, it’s slow even for a Sunday in August.

I mean, wow, it’s like nothing is going on. Freaky.



I’m going to cheat and write a post…

…about how I have nothing to write a post about.

Sorry about that; between Iron Man 3 and the youngest starting toilet training today it’s been a bit of a distracting day. And that’s aside from… everything else, really.


Seven days until Christmas…

…and what do you want under your tree?


Gimme a break, I’m running on vapors at this point.  December during a lame-duck year is hell on political reporting; right now the big question in Dizzy City is How many politicians are going to completely reverse their previous positions on fiscal policy*? There’s going to be no more real action for another three weeks, and I’m running out of stuff.

Moe Lane

*The answer is, of course, All of them.  Welcome to Washington, DC: here’s your accordion.


Huh. I got, like, three posts waiting for events to transpire…

…or confirmation to get through, or whatnot.  So… I got nothing, really.  Except that the Xbox is working!  I still haven’t figured out what to sing yet, though. Nothing’s reached out and said This would be perfect, or at least perfectly embarrassing.


#rsrh Today is the day that the Obama campaign vanquishes me.

I will never be able to parody them as much as they have parodied themselves with this (Via Weasel Zippers, via @davidhauptmann):

Although I no longer feel upset about saying HIT THE TIP JAR OVER THERE ON THE SIDEBAR.  I mean, really: ‘crass’ no longer figures into it.  I could put up pictures of big-eyed, fluffy kittens and I’d still not be anywhere as cynical as… this.


Reality Defeats Me, County Supervisor/Sex Tape/Meth Scandal Edition.

I got nothing about this story about Alameda County (California) Supervisor Nadia Lockyer (wife to California Treasurer Bill Lockyer) and an alleged sex tape allegedly involving her and a former meth addict.  Well.  Almost nothing.





…And no, the name of the party is not “methamphetamine.”

Moe Lane

(Via Instapundit, via AoSHQ)


I swear to God, this happens…

…every time I get a new video game*: I spend all my non-politics time on that instead of looking for weird crap on the Internet to mull over, and later point out.  Which is great, right up to the point where I have to generate content.

So… anything odd happen lately, I guess?  I know about the satellite deorbiting, but I assume from the general lack of green-blowing zombie apocalypse that nothing untoward occurred.

Moe Lane

*KOTOR.  Did you know that you can win the game without getting any Force abilities that help your resistance to hostile Force powers?  Did you know that not getting those abilities really, still really SUCKS?  And did you know that there’s a level 20 cap?  Yeah, well, now you do.


You gotta watch out for those kinesiology professors.

It’s the study of human movement, after all – so you know what that means?  It means that they know how to cut you, that’s what it means.  Seriously, there’s a PhD out there on the run today, riding outlaw… and he has nothing to lose. Dr. Stephen J. Kinzey, wanted for meth dealing, and subject of one of the better understatements that you’ll read today:

“To have an associate professor who is a member of the Devils Diciples and allegedly dealing methamphetamine is quite alarming. I mean, it’s unusual to say the least,” Sheriff Rod Hoops said at a news conference in San Bernardino.

Here’s Kinzey’s Twitter account, by the way – sad to say, though, he kind of looks… not exactly like a meth dealer, but like the kind of guy that it would maybe not surprise you to hear that he was arrested for dealing meth.

Via Wombat-socho, who raised an excellent point: if you want a good cover identity to hide the fact that you deal meth, ‘kinesiology professor’ works.

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