This cast iron octoroon has aged beautifully, the sign not so much. When I was a boy, more than half a century ago, this little jockey had a brown face. Now he’s in white face. My, how times have changed.
On the Street Where I Grew Up
Category Archives: 100 words or less
Endangered Species
practicing blackletter writing
We’d all better get used to writing this way [1]. Above is the complete Republican response to each of the articles of impeachment against Donald John Trump. Hard to argue with that second one, yo.
[1] that Nazi “s” is murder, by the way
Junior High School posters employed by Grand Old Party
In what used to be called propaganda, Republicans placed large posters conspicuously on the podium behind the leaders of the Intelligence Committee, for viewers at home, whenever the committee chairman spoke. The signs underscore what they continue to portray as a corrupt, partisan lynching. Adam Schiff (“Shifty Schitt”) stated several times, and reiterated in closing, that to this day he doesn’t know the identity of the whistleblower.
No matter. Trump says Shifty Schitt is a fucking liar.
Two days later, as hearings continued, that poster was updated to read 95 days. Consistency is important in hammering home a talking point, sometimes.
How Not To Worry
Sekhnet, who calls herself a “recreational worrier”, worries that I don’t worry enough.
Now I know that the only way to stop worrying about what might happen is to make sure it doesn’t!
(I’m still not worried about the fact that the knife above would not actually close without leaving a sharp point sticking out of the handle)
Fall vista
Overlooking a valley in the Shawangunk mountains, two hours north of New York City. The photo really doesn’t do nature justice. We humans so rarely do.
Untitled
Does Nancy have Bobby Three Sticks writing for her now?
Slice of a NYC minute
I was walking in my neighborhood last night around midnight and I passed a young couple as I crossed the street toward my apartment. They looked like they’d recently graduated high school. The young woman was wearing very short shorts and a low cut tank top that clung to her in a very nice way. As they passed me she caught my eye and said, “sir, he’s going to fuck my brains out tonight.” In that split second our paths crossed I nodded, said “excellent idea” over my shoulder. I meant it, too.
Our President at 5:06 a.m. Sunday morning
The stable genius at work, early Sunday morning:
I wondered about the absence of spell check there. With a little research (just google “councel”) I learned that “councel” is apparently POTUS’s preferred spelling for “counsel” and he always spells it that way (on at least 14 previous tweets). Not a mistake, not a mistake!!! He will change the proper spelling of that fake word, have no doubt. MAGA! USA! USA!!!!
