That dopey girl was as pale as milk. Where exactly is she indigenous to? I think that cop showed admirable restraint. I doubt I could have done as well. Bottom line, if you drive drunk, regardless whether you’re non-binary or a scarlet-bottomed baboon you have to be pulled off the road.
In reply to photog –
Well, yes. She is pasty white. She’s also obese, unattractive and not too bright. So how does she get ahead? By claiming to be part of an oppressed minority.
To quote Bari Weiss:
“People were to be given authority in this new order not in recognition of their gifts, hard work, accomplishments, or contributions to society, but in inverse proportion to the disadvantages their group had suffered, as defined by radical ideologues. According to them, as James Kirchick concisely put it: ‘Muslim > gay, black > female, and everybody > the Jews.’”
She is never going to be successful based on looks or intellect so the only thing left is race pandering. What’s a pasty white girl to do when she is not a minority?
Just claim to be one!
Hey! It worked for a Elizabeth Warren. She is a pasty white female of below average intelligence who turned her claim of Native American lineage (Verified by her high cheek bones!) into a Harvard professorship and a seat in the senate.
H/T to Larry Correia’s X feed for this clip. Here’s a cop giving a sobriety test to someone who was driving on a highway in the wrong direction. Her list of reasons was she was new to the area (two months), indigenous, non-binary, mental and had very bad social anxieties.
She also couldn’t walk a straight line so even though the cop was “being a white man” he still cuffed her and we assume dragged her off to jail.
My favorite moment is when he calls her ma’am for the second time and she tells him how triggering that is for her.
“photog Unbound,” my favorite lost play of Aeschylus, ends with Zeus freeing me from Tartarus where all the food, even things like vanilla ice cream, is served with tartar sauce already added into it, a fate worse than death itself.
But now I’m free. And in my absence, as usual, all hell has broken loose. Elections have been bungled and pundits have drawn absurd conclusions from them and even more ridiculous people have been running around in circles declaring that the sky is falling.
In other words everything is quite normal for our world of the present day. But it’s good to be back and I’ll try to collect my thoughts and put down in somewhat coherent quasi-English what I think about all this stuff.
So, yes, yes. I’m back with my nose to the grindstone and my shoulder to the wheel (which combination, by the way, sounds quite uncomfortable). And I’m bound to come up with something that I predict will include the letters a, s, d and f just because of carpal tunnel syndrome or some other repetitive motion injury of the hand syndrome that I am unaware of.
I think the reason children get tired of their toys so soon is just that it is against human nature to be really interested in what is of no use. If you say that a beautiful thing is always interesting, I answer, that a beautiful thing is of the highest use. Is not the diamond that flashes all its colours into the heart of a poet as useful as the diamond with which the glazier divides the sheets of glass into panes for our windows?
Dunwich’s own First Selectman Cthulhu found himself at the center of a controversy when he was interviewed as part of the NY Times Biden/Trump presidential election poll. At the conclusion of the interview the pollster asked the First Selectman how he would rate Joe Biden’s presidency on a scale of one to ten. Instead of providing a number he stated that because of the absurd increase in the price of fast food he wanted to grill Biden over a slow fire and then devour him bit by bit as painfully as possible.
The pollster dutifully reported this threat to the Secret Service who alerted the FBI. Once a warrant was fabricated, a breaching tank and a full retinue of agents was dispatched to perform a no-knock arrest. Unfortunately for them breaching tank full of agents is just like stuffed lobster to Cthulhu. After roasting the tank over his sacrificial fire for a few hours he popped the top and speared the contents and dipped them in cocktail sauce before crunching them down. It was so good that he couldn’t resist a second course so he went on a road trip. He strapped a big net about the size of a hot air balloon onto his back and headed for FBI headquarters. Ripping the roof off the J. Edgar Hoover building he scooped up most of the upper echelons of the Bureau and began the trek home with his dinner crying and screaming for help. Along the way crowds of Americans lined Cthulhu’s path cheering, pointing and mocking at the netted Stasi agents howling in fear.
Awakened from his nap by Dr. Jill, Biden considered launching a missile attack on the squid-headed dragon but what with the Ukraine debacle he thought better of it and instead called for a truce. And during a gaffe-filled and incoherent address to the American public Biden seemed to imply that eating the FBI agents would be its own punishment for Cthulhu. But he did thank Director Wray for his service and wished him luck during his upcoming and horribly painful enmunchening. He finished off by relating the time he was stuck in the Cyclops’ cave and had to use wine to intoxicate the giant before blinding him and escaping. No joke.
Unfortunately for the First Selectman eating all those FBI agents together was too much for his system and he developed a debilitating case of gout. His left big toe swelled up to the size of a Volkswagen Beetle and he’s been limping around town like an old Beefeater. But he’s learned his lesson and says he’s swearing off cocktail sauce. From now on all of his FBI agents will be boiled, not roasted.
When the NYT pollster was reached for comment on the whole kerfuffle he only said, “Look we understand this is a heated election race but if we have to resort to devouring FBI agents every time, they respond to threats against a sitting president then the terrorists win. I didn’t exactly know what he meant by that but the New York Times used to be a newspaper so I gave him the benefit of the doubt and sent his contact information to Cthulhu. After all pan-fried pollster is considered the other, other white meat.
