There is a micro chance here that this is a demonstration of a failure to understand the quintessential modus operandi of CV-19 transmission. Let me preface by describing how many of us Delta men wore condoms in certain tropical regions of the world where we were expecting to ford certain rivers that were inhabited by parasites — ones that entered the body through the penis. That sounds pretty squeamish and it really was.
This stately squire may just be in total mental disarray about the who, what, where, when, why, and how CV-19 and PPE actually work. I mean, he looks pretty stupid… but then I look at a lot of our own preppy college boys; some of them don’t appear to know how their sweaters function. They let that kick their ass, say the hell with it, and just tie their sweaters around their necks — close enough, they figure.
Yeah, you talk about this sister and her front-row seat.
If you could see under the legs of their trousers, you might find that their socks are also tied around their ankles. I once suggested wearing my trousers with one leg in and the other out such that it would just flop around requiring me to wear one of those surgical masks over my Howard Johnson like the bear-butted bee-bopping brother above. It was in protest of a corner-store Karen who was wearing her mask hanging off one ear. That scenario would be a splendid opportunity for me to just tie my pants around my thigh, my socks around my ankles, my sweater around my neck, and don my meat-mask — off to Wallmart for a photoshoot!
Well, here’s a real face palmer and Homer Simpson double DOH! — exactly what you might expect to happen when gun-queers get to packing in a crowd. Gun queers just spray and pray, hoping they hit the right target. Professional gunslingers like cops and military Special Operations types don’t get the luxury of that “technique.” The onus of what is behind our target is there all the time; if I were to throw a shot and hit a friendly beyond and behind my target I stood to lose my job immediately and permanently.
Not so for Billy the Kid here who took some shots at a Jeep Cherokee running down the highway where the Romper Room crowd was protesting and blocking legit traffic as it does so often. Billy pulls his piece and fires at the jeep sending bullets across the highway into the crowd on the other side of the highway wounding a couple of jobless, yoga pant-wearing, flute/cello-playing, bad haircut-having, barnyard animal molesting, no bath-taking, pot-smoking, monument desecrating, nosering-wearing, LGBTQ-M-O-U-S-E vermin.
There is a micro chance here that this is a demonstration of a failure to understand the quintessential modus operandi of CV-19 transmission. Let me preface by describing how many of us Delta men wore condoms in certain tropical regions of the world where we were expecting to ford certain rivers that were inhabited by parasites — ones that entered the body through the penis. That sounds pretty squeamish and it really was.
This stately squire may just be in total mental disarray about the who, what, where, when, why, and how CV-19 and PPE actually work. I mean, he looks pretty stupid… but then I look at a lot of our own preppy college boys; some of them don’t appear to know how their sweaters function. They let that kick their ass, say the hell with it, and just tie their sweaters around their necks — close enough, they figure.
Yeah, you talk about this sister and her front-row seat.
If you could see under the legs of their trousers, you might find that their socks are also tied around their ankles. I once suggested wearing my trousers with one leg in and the other out such that it would just flop around requiring me to wear one of those surgical masks over my Howard Johnson like the bear-butted bee-bopping brother above. It was in protest of a corner-store Karen who was wearing her mask hanging off one ear. That scenario would be a splendid opportunity for me to just tie my pants around my thigh, my socks around my ankles, my sweater around my neck, and don my meat-mask — off to Wallmart for a photoshoot!
Well, here’s a real face palmer and Homer Simpson double DOH! — exactly what you might expect to happen when gun-queers get to packing in a crowd. Gun queers just spray and pray, hoping they hit the right target. Professional gunslingers like cops and military Special Operations types don’t get the luxury of that “technique.” The onus of what is behind our target is there all the time; if I were to throw a shot and hit a friendly beyond and behind my target I stood to lose my job immediately and permanently.
Not so for Billy the Kid here who took some shots at a Jeep Cherokee running down the highway where the Romper Room crowd was protesting and blocking legit traffic as it does so often. Billy pulls his piece and fires at the jeep sending bullets across the highway into the crowd on the other side of the highway wounding a couple of jobless, yoga pant-wearing, flute/cello-playing, bad haircut-having, barnyard animal molesting, no bath-taking, pot-smoking, monument desecrating, nosering-wearing, LGBTQ-M-O-U-S-E vermin.
“Well, heck, Kent… as long as them sum-bitches are shootin’ themselves… I say we just give ’em some elbow room and let ’em have at it — that’s a problem there that just might just solve itself!” city Mayor Quimby was heard to have remarked during an interview with WKRP news anchor Kent Brockman.
Kidding aside (what? never!), how is this shooting not attempted murder, and (how is it worded) aggravated assault with a deadly weapon? This person shot bystanders in an attempt to shoot a person driving a vehicle.
I have to side with the notion that this “woman” and her “man” are somehow smarter than the rest of us and are somehow making a helpful and worthy statement that we are all too daft to grasp. The point she and hubby were trying to make is that (words to the effect): if we continue following the orders of our fascist government we will end up like Nazi Germany.
I get what Karen is trying to say, though I don’t agree with her bullshit, not for a Queens Quadrennium, a Bronx Biennial, a Manhattan Minute, or even for a Statton Island second for that matter. Ok, so there is a message there, but the delivery is fuuuuucked up, Sister!
“Excuse me, Sir… why are you dragging that dead baby through our department store?”
“Well, I’m clearly demonstrating my objection and opposition to abortion, you ninny!”
“Ah, yes… so it is. Well, thank you for shopping at the Toddler Emporium!”
The Toddler Emporium.
We could gift Chiner with several hundred pounds of fissile-grade Uranium-235 (U-235). They would be frankly quite grateful to us and enjoy our gift. But if we delivered it in with a gravity-dropped, air-burst, three-stage Teller–Ulam fission-fusion-fission device, they would enjoy that far less — not that Ice-G gives an angstrom of a rat’s ass about Chineez enjoyment.
Brothers and sisters, I implore you! Can’t we go to Walmart and hoard toilet paper and bottled water without messaging our shit-ass political agendas to each other? That crabby truculent bitch went to Walmart looking for a fight; she was on the offensive and could probably do well with a somersault-inducing Gerber slap to her occipital cranium.
“Excuse me… EXCUSE ME — (pulls out Stanley tape measure) you’re not six feet from me; you’re not at the proper social standoff distance as recommended by the CDC. I feel violated and uncomfortable with…” — SSSLLLAAAAAAPPP!!
The ANSI standard fundamental Karen model as it is recognized in the U.S. — Kate Gosselin — with a let-me-speak-to-your-manager haircut.
“Good heavens, Martha — did you see that woman execute that summersault just now? She had an excellent tuck and swift rotation, though her landing was painfully awkward and largely disorganized. I think she’ll score well in execution with the judges from the Scandinavian countries, though the Balkan states are likely to penalize her for her finish.”
OH EM GEE, the Freaking Hip-Hop Chineez!
Here are just a few more examples of how my clothing line is progressing in Chiner. I tells ya, those Chineez are going to get hip-hop and western-style groovy no matter what the cost or effort — even if it kills them. There’s a comforting thought; perhaps the Ice-G Gung Ho garment line is the answer to the balance of power in the far east.
My “Suck You” line of Ice-G’s Gung Ho Garments hit it real big in Chiner this school year despite being grotesquely overpriced. You have perhaps a Faberge Egg’s chance in a trash compactor of ever being cool and accepted by the other children if you don’t have some sort of Suck You bling in your daily wardrobe. The price is what it is; I’ll take their money and don’t care how they get it. But I’m not a monster — they all don’t have to invest in the full-up mantle overcoat; they can just get a simple clutch purse and be on their way to peer acceptance.
I think this is probably the day’s last template from my design team. They had a really long and difficult day — but I applaud them all!
Just… lost in translation.
I really want to include this total lost-in-translation moment here. The Chineez do their own work — usually without a net — and really could give a $hiite less what Westerners get out of their translation. I will translate for you the two sentences in chineez: “Please mind restroom sanitation; preserve the sanitation and cleanliness of the restroom.” A pretty wordy way of what we roundeyes would probably get good results with just a simple: “Please Keep Restroom Clean.”
The Nazis had a sanitation message posted in the loo at Auschwitz that was frank and to the point: “So bist du rein, so gehts du ein,” meaning quite literally: “Your cleanliness determines if you live or die.” The rascally no-nonsense Nazis sure had a spectacularly do-or-die philosophy, yeah?
Just a fair-weather public service message from the Chineez department of health public safety to the Western lasses partaking in the country’s tourism industry. I’m sure there’s a set of exercises and a list of recipes that are particularly celebrated in the realm of uterine health and that the Chineez promptly recommend and urge you ladies to spiritedly engage in — thanks, Chiner!
For Frustrated Fellows and Fräuleins — Feel-Good Photos!
I calculated that those of us who are getting our annoyance floats stuck and threatening to flood us over, a few feel-good pictures might raise your spirits a tad, and perhaps prevent us from ultimately assaulting that Red Rover line like Daniel G:
I’m truly at a loss for what to think about this dufas’s look…
And now for my personal favorite: there’s a lesson to be learned with you go around tooting your own trumpet:
Geo’s Meme of the Week:
Geo’s Classic Art Meme of the Week:
Take courage and stay strong; stay in control of your domain for the duration of this world gone mad — it too shall pass!
Barrett is the world leader in long-range, large-caliber, precision rifle design and manufacturing. Barrett products are used by civilians, sport shooters, law enforcement agencies, the United States military, and more than 75 State Department-approved countries around the world.
PO Box 1077 MURFREESBORO, Tennessee 37133 United States
Scrubba Wash Bag
Our ultra-portable washing machine makes your journey easier. This convenient, pocket-sized travel companion allows you to travel lighter while helping you save money, time and water.
Our roots in shooting sports started off back in 1996 with our founder and CEO, Josh Ungier. His love of airguns took hold of our company from day one and we became the first e-commerce retailer dedicated to airguns, optics, ammo, and accessories. Over the next 25 years, customers turned to us for our unmatched product selection, great advice, education, and continued support of the sport and airgun industry.
COMMENTS
There are on this article.
You must become a subscriber or login to view or post comments on this article.