Alex Jones, Eat Your Heart Out

Because Bill Clinton is making a run for your crown as the most nonsensical conspiracy theorist alive.

Slick Willy is accusing "some people" of "covering up" his wife's chances to win the Democratic nomination. He claimed at a campaign stop in South Dakota that 'these people' are saying to themselves:

"Oh, this is so terrible: The people they want her. Oh, this is so terrible: She is winning the general election, and he is not. Oh my goodness, we have to cover this up."

In addition, if she does well in South Dakota, Montana, and Puerto Rico then she will be ahead in the popular vote. This line no doubt includes the clusterfucks that are Florida and Michigan.

What is there to say at this point? Rather than appearing a valiant defender of his wife in the face of tyrannical opposition Bill Clinton came off as a tenth grader telling the teacher the Freemasons stole his homework.

People are pressuring Hillary Clinton to get the fuck out because her chances of winning, even via a superdelegate coup, are even worse than Bush's chances of exiting office a popular president. Joseph Stalin had a better chance of winning a Nobel Peace Prize than she does of winning the Democratic nomination. She is a drag on this election, wasting a lot of money and making a lot of people hate her. She is the Democratic Party's Ron Paul. And for Bill Clinton to defend such craziness so forcefully is beyond me.

If he was always this annoyingly dumb it is beyond me how so many people ever liked him.

Stop! In The Name of Lulz!

There are two types of police officers; those who are lawfully good who chose to uphold the laws of the land with a stern yet compassionate fist and those who are lawfully chaotic who believe the use of a grenade is the best way to rid a crowded area of any wrong doers. While I respectfully consider most police officers to come from the school of patience and reason it is my sad duty to inform you that it is all too often that I find myself in the tentacles of the latter type of law enforcer. Take for example the first time I was arrested. Two swarve detectives calmly approached me from behind, flashed their badges and led me into their unmarked vehicle to be booked and officially charged.

After a series of gruelling questions it was time to transport me from the station nearest to my arrest to one nearest to my home. Everything was rolling along as it normally would until we hit the highway and a call was announced over the police radio about an armed robbery involving a man, his shotgun and a Jeep. Now, I didn't know what the man or his shotgun looked like but I sure knew what a Jeep was and unless I was mistaken that particular Jeep was riding alongside the detective’s wagon as we rolled down the motorway. What were the chances? Enough to leave the two officers contemplating whether to chance a possible lawful face plant in an attempt to arrest the armed robber.

From the very beginning their plan had too many holes in it. This wasn't a television drama, and the likelihood of someone getting themselves into an unnecessary amount of trouble was far too probable. This didn't stop the detective who was driving from pulling up at the toll gates and attempt to stop the Jeep. No, he didn't use the car he was safely encased, instead he chose to jump out wielding his revolver screaming like a complete fucking idiot. Naturally the robber began to reverse the stolen Jeep back into the oncoming traffic. The danger of being rear-ended was the least of his concerns, it was the handful of bullets the officer shot his direction that left him in a panic. What was most worrying about the event that had unfolded before my eyes was that the detective had waited until the Jeep was well over football field away before he began to unload his firearm putting the general public in danger.

I'd love to say the uneasy hilarity ended there but it didn't. Later that afternoon I was pulled aside by an officer in uniform who'd been assigned to interview me over the incident. He asked me what I witnessed and if I was certain I'd actually seen what I said I saw. It wasn't as simple as 'are you sure?' It was more like 'do you know what a gun looks like?' 'Do you know what a gun is for?' 'Do you know what a gun sounds like once it is discharged?' 'Are you sure it wasn't a firecracker you heard?' Wait, what? Are you suggesting someone had thrown an explosive device onto the highway at that very moment and that it was a mere firecracker that caught my attention and not the police officer acting like a coked out cowboy in the middle of a busy road? Sorry, my eyes must be retarded.

Hi.

So I had meant to write an entry introducing myself since I had been so kindly invited by my dear fascist-hating friend (Woozie) to join the blog-world. I did suddenly appear onto the communist scene, with no known Tome history and no "blogger" status. I do however hope that my noob status will not offend the old keen followers.

As you may have already known, my name is Svetlana.
Despite seeming so I am not very politically charged.
It does seem that I am now the only female contributor.
I hope that some estrogen will balance out the testosterone evident and make this world a more peaceful... or hectic place.

I am not sure as of yet how I will contribute to the blog but I hope to find out with time.

I am very broke and live inside of a small wooden closet located inside of Woozie's basement. I hope to find a job very soon so that I may rent a place with a little more... breathing room.

At the moment, whilst huddled inside of my cozy closet I thoroughly enjoy listening to archived podcasts of The Ongoing History of New Music.

Today I visited a pet store and met a cat named Cleo inside of the adoption centre.
I liked Cleo as I hope you shall all grow to... not mind me.
I may not be as friendly or eat food right out of your hand, but I do enjoy reading and being just slightly unpredictable.

So... hello to all, and have a lovely Sunday afternoon.

Halloween Dreams

Moe the bartender mixes the drinks while the Hare Iliamna simmers nicely in the oven.
Fun had by all and sundry.


post script: Winter phase Hare not essential, but highly recommended.

Silly FOX, Trix Are For Mormons

'Exclusive' tours of the YFZ ranch led by humble gentlemen and interviews with kindly, soft spoken women who miss their children dearly; both replayed on the networks ad infinitum.

For people living as if it were 1864, these FLDS followers sure do know how to make the media their bitch.

Uno's House

Spotted by the curb on my way to school last week. I now have time to write and I don't feel like it.

Why I am the luckiest (and most terrified) man on the planet