Month: February 2017

Candy kiss-off for Valentine’s Day

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 24 Comments
Here's your hat, there's the door, what's your Russian?
Here’s your hat, there’s the door, what’s your Russian?

Twenty-four days. That’s how long tovarisch Mike Flynn lasted as national-security adviser.

In case you were wondering, yes, that’s a record.

Over at The Washington Post, national political corresponent James Hohmann has 10 unanswered questions you might find interesting.

At The New York Times, the Donks are demanding to be sung their favorite bedtime lullaby, “What Did the President Know (And When Did He Know It)?” This has all the gravitas and authority of a puppy yapping from his kennel while the humans are at work.

Trouble is, these mainstream-media types are all spewing the usual bullshit about what Beelzebozo can and can’t do now; the “future credibility” of his various mouthpieces, stooges, finks, flappers and handlers; and which useful idiot will replace the outgoing useful idiot. None of this addresses the central issue, which is that Ronald McDonald McTrump and the battalion of buffoons crowded into his stretch clown car are not Business As Usual and cannot be covered as such.

Perhaps most amusing is the pronouncement from Sen. Marco Rubio (R-Self-Interest) that a Senate Intelligence Committee inquiry into Russian tinkering with the election will go “wherever the truth leads us.” Little Marco doesn’t go places where he might trip over an inconvenient fact and bruise his ambition.

 

First blow, then snow

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 18 Comments
"Forget about that California dam, hon', we got a real problem right here at home."
“Forget about that California dam, hon’, we got a real problem right here at home.”

Well, it ain’t much of a snow. But the blow more than made up for it. We had to corral wandering bits and pieces of lawn art yesterday, which beats watching Stephen Miller lie on the Sunday shows like a creepy baldheaded teenager caught with a spank mag under his mattress. (“Uh, I read it for the articles? And anyway, the terrorists put it there!”)

Where does Beelzebozo find these alleged people? If you saw Miller lurking around a school playground, you’d probably call the law, amirite? The only video of this penis with ears should come from a vice cop’s lapel cam.

“Hands where I can see ’em, pally. And let’s get the mouse back in his house, a’ight?”

Meanwhile, the National Security Council is taking on Stooge-esque overtones, and not of the Iggy variety, either. Who knew we’d still be dealing with Russian stooges 53 years after “Dr. Strangelove?”

“Sir, you can’t let him in here. He’ll see everything! He’ll see the Big Board!”

From sunshine to snow

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 10 Comments
Headed east toward the Sandias and El Rancho Pendejo via the Bear Canyon Arroyo bike trail.
Headed east toward the Sandias and El Rancho Pendejo via the Bear Canyon Arroyo bike trail.

Another BRAIN deadline beaten, if only barely.

And thus yesterday afternoon I was able to get out on the bike for a couple of hours. What a beautiful day it was, too — warm and sunny with a slight wind from the south, and a temp of 63 by the time I rolled home.

Today is supposed to be even nicer, perhaps with a record high — 71? In February? You shittin’ me? — and I will be at it again, having awarded myself a day off without pay. Hey, when you’re a freelancer, every day you take off is a day without pay.

But a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. We’re fixin’ to switch from chart-bustin’ warmth to snow on the deck by Sunday. So it goes in the upper reaches of the Chihuahuan Desert.

In the eastern reaches of the Ay Chihuahua Desert, meanwhile, the usual shock-‘n’-awe continues largely unabated. Nobody seems to be able to pry the phone out of Beelzebozo’s stubby lil’ fingers; the national security adviser is said to have had an illegal back-door chat with the Rooskies; and America’s newest senator is so swampy the Swamp-Thing looks at him and goes all like, “Dude, you make me look like Justin Timberlake.”

So far the only bright spot has been the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals punking Tweety Bird, and it’s anybody’s guess whether he continues to have that burning, itching sensation once The Supremes have weighed in. If they get the case before the Repugs can install their ‘bot on the Court, I’d put my money on a 4-4 split; afterward, all bets are off.