At first I was gonna give it to one of the Dimocrat harpies on the Senate Judiciary Committee. Booger eatin’ moh-ron Maizie Hirono – just one of the reasons we should have never made Hawaii at state – was leading the pack, but then, from out of nowhere came Savannah Guthrie with her pitiful performance at the Trump Town Hall. It was less a town hall and more a debate between Trump and Guthrie. BTW, she lost. But she did win Asshole of the Week.

From my friend Phil.

We have Dimocrats grandstanding at the Amy Coney Barret hearing and most of them are demonstrating just how incredibly stupid they are. It’s amazing how she is able to keep a straight face. It’s as if she took lessons from the admiral having to listen to Hank Johnson talking about Guam tipping over.

Maizie Hirono has to be the dumbest person in the Senate. Kamala Harris is not much smarter. ACB could take them both on at the same time with only half her brain.

I loved it when she was asked to show the notes she was referring to in her testimony and she held up a blank notepad. “I don’t need notes to take on you booger eatin’ moh-rons!”

Of course, I think she should just smile sweetly and tell them she was gonna pull a Biden. Yannow, he won’t answer whether he is in favor pf packing the court until after the election. She should just tell them she won’t tell them how she feels about Roe versus Wade or Obummercare until after she’s confirmed.

Them’s the rules right?

Ron on Jill Biden.

Sittin here with a buttered bagel and a cuppa mud that’s tellin me I need to change brands, I got to thinkin ‘bout somethin I read a few days ago . . . elder abuse.

Article had links to several pieces on how we’re seeing more attacks on older people by various younger segments of our decaying society. Almost none of the assaults were triggered by anything the victims did, only by what agitators, anarchists, BLM, Antifa, and other thugs encouraged.

As an 80-yr-old myself, there’s no way I could defend myself against a younger, stronger, propagandized snowflake or never-Trumper or black reparationist. I don’t carry weapons when Monsterdawg & I go for our mornin walks, and he’s getting old, too. Prob’ly could do some serious bitin, but not much effective fightin.

But one link had a different take on the issue – Jill Biden . . . No, ‘scuze me – DOCTOR Jill Biden and who it really is who wants Sundowner Joe in the White House.

She knows full well, prob’ly better’n anybody else, just how slow and weak and scatterbrained he is. Camel-La knows it, too . . . it’s what she’s bettin on. Hell, EVERYbody knows it, ‘cept Joe.

Now, since I’m older than Joe and have for years been aware of the decline of my body and my memory, I’m qualified and entitled to call him out on his decrepitude, his hypocrisy, his gaffemeistering, his inability to pursue a thought to its logical conclusion without intensive earbud coaching and/or a teleprompter.

DOCTOR Jill has another year to go before she turns 70, and no doubt she feels she’s still at the top of her game. But this is her last chance to grab the brass ring and get back on the covers of fashion magazines, talk shows, interviews, formal dinners, and into the power-induced world she used to know as Mrs. Veep.

When Joe recognized reality and bowed out of the 2016 race, all the glamour and glitter dried up. There still was money, piles of it, but no real political or social power as she’d become accustomed to.

SHE’s the one who wants to drag his enfeebled sorry ass across the finish-line threshold of 1600 Penn’s Woods Lane. Joe is only vaguely aware of what’s going on. He knows he’s campaigning for something, but only because of embellished residual memories from past campaigns, like some kind of conditioned response.

No decent, caring wife would push a mental cripple into the center ring of a brutal political circus. The only kind of woman who’d do that is a Borgia, a Harris, a Rodham/Clinton, and for her OWN sake, not his.

Joe is the goat, the sacrificial lamb, the placeholder. He dimly senses some sort of reward at the end of the trail, but it’s elusive, ephemeral, blurry, ambiguous . . . like hearing distant cheers from a large crowd but not knowing what they’re cheering or why.

No, Jill does NOT have his best interests in mind . . . only her own. Joe loves the camera, but he really doesn’t remember why. Jill needs that adoration, that fawning, that flattery, that sweet political flatulence the media inundated a shaved silverback fashion disaster with for 8 years while her partner set racial relations back half a century.

Doctor! NOBODY I know with a doctorate in Fine Arts or Education or any other discipline which immediately suggests the holder can’t pour piss out of a boot even if the instructions are on the heel would insist on the title outside the moldy, decaying, ivy-covered walls of left-wing academia.

Hell, gazillions of lawyers hold the J.D. (Juris Doctor) degree. But if they insisted upon being called “Doctor” for it, they’d be laughed out of the courtroom. I have the Master’s Degree in English Lit, but I sure’s hell ain’t gonna go ‘round havin people call me “Master.”

Jill is a gold-digging sadist who’s betting on lies, mail-in vote fraud, and ballot harvesting to install her mentally absent husband behind the Resolute Desk to give her one more golden afternoon atop Olympus before she herself begins that painful slide back down the slope toward political and social oblivion reserved for washed-up wives of vainglorious politicians.

From my friend Phil.

This is a true, sad story of the depression that can haunt a man.

Brad lived in California and was a lifelong environmentalist. He was sick of the world; of Covid 19, Brexit, Russian belligerence, global warming, racial tensions, and the rest of the disturbing stories that occupy media headlines.

Brad drove his car into his garage and then sealed every doorway and window as best he could. He got back into his car and wound down all the windows, selected his favorite radio station and started the car.

Two days later, a worried neighbor peered through his garage window and saw him in the car. She notified the emergency services and they broke in, pulling Brad from the car. A little sip of water and, surprisingly, he was in perfect condition, but his Tesla had a dead battery.

Basement Biden and Horizontal Harris refuse to answer on whether or not they are in favor of packing the Supreme Court. Of course they do. If they answered the question honestly – they are in favor of it -they would throw away any chance of winning since the American people oppose it. The same goes for Dimocrats running for the Senate. They won’t answer the question either.

Now, to change the subject, the Dimocrats new talking point is that Republicans are packing the courts. Apparently, filling vacancies in the federal judiciary is the same thing as adding the number of justices to the Supreme Court. What a bunch of bovine excrement.

Of course, Gropey Joe has an excuse for not answering the question. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t even realize he’s running for president.

Joe Biden: "I'm running as a proud Democrat for the Senate" pic.twitter.com/7LTFdJQMgF

— Trump War Room – Text TRUMP to 88022 (@TrumpWarRoom) October 12, 2020

From my friend Richard.

The local monastery is hiring a new choir director. Apply if you … (more…)

Gonna have to do some Van Halen. Eddie Van Halen died this past week. I saw them perform three times. The first time was as a warmup act for Aerosmith. They stole the show. The second time they were the headliners. Both of these shows were in St. Louis with the original lineup. The third tie I saw them was in Atlanta with Sammy Hagar as their singer. I remember Bachman Turner Overweight was the warmup act.

Eddie always looked like he was having fun on stage. He really revolutionized hard rock. He didn’t invent tapping but he did it better than anyone else.

Here’s my favorite Van Halen song. Who woulda thunk using an electric drill with a guitar?

His 42nd sonata.

Now on harpsichord played by Claudio Columbo.

From Rob. (more…)