This gallery contains 16 photos.
With Republicans formerly most famous for privatizing jails to profit off imprisoning pot smokers now running after jobs in the pot industry as fast as Trump chasing after a piss-laden prostitute in Saint Petersburg, pot will be legal before you know it. Continue reading
In the following clip, Spencer Tracy plays the judge in the war crimes trials against the Germans at Nuremberg. If you watch the whole movie you’ll see the Germans and their lawyers make the very same arguments for their war crimes as the Bush administration (and Fox News talking head…whocouldanode?) do for theirs. It’s ironic reverse deja vu that will have a profound effect on you if you imagine our current set of torture fanatics in place of the German war criminals. Watch Spencer Tracy sum it up nicely in his reading of the verdict in this clip:
Who do you think should play Spencer Tracy’s role when the future film rights to the Bush-Cheney war crimes trial are granted?
I’m voting for Phil Donahue.
Did I miss anybody you’d prefer to see?
Enjoy.
Debating God Slobberers
Long before they go cosmological or ontological on you, there’s this bit of pablum you have to wade through with almost all of your run-of-the-mill God slobberers. Here’s the short list of the debating tactics of those on the religious short bus and how to deal with them:
1. You are mad at/hate God.
2. You wish to masturbate (more enthusiastically?) without oversight. (Masturbation just manages to squeeze out “practice homosexuality” as the ‘go-to sin” above the Mason-Dixon line).
3. You are lashing out at “the church” because (e.g.) a priest masturbated you a little too enthusiastically or you had some other negative experience at church.
4. You haven’t looked for God in the right places.
1. I wish there was a God to be mad at but since that’s s a fantasy of yours I don’t share I’m going to have to hold you personally responsible for all the chowder-headed nonsense you’re spewing and the damage that occurs as a result.
2. I do the best I can not to embarrass the ghost of Oscar Wilde.
3. The soft hand of a Catholic priest would have been a Godsend in lieu of the total subjugation of my mind which was attempted in order to help me find comfort in the patently ridiculous notions being promulgated by mindless goobers like you.
4. I looked everywhere for God as a child, but it was all to no avail. Were the father, son and holy ghost all too busy for for my toast? Upon puberty it finally hit me. Vaginas seemed the likeliest hideout for God that I hadn’t already searched in my youth. Checked a bunch….nada God there..
I’ll keep looking to broaden the sample size but I’m skeptical I’ll find anything other than an echo in even the largest of vaginas.
Maybe God is too ashamed to show his face after looking around and seeing what a horrible job he did in the first place. That’s a distinct possibility and the one I’d run up the flagpole if I was a master goober in religious apologetics.
Enjoy.
Although it had been my intention to regain residence in the state of Iowa and live in the city from which I graduated high school (with honors) back in 1976, the cards were stacked heavily against me. Due to the fact that I have been living in Germany for over five years, my US driver’s license was expired and of no use. Add to that the serendipitous ‘luck’ of escaping my Nazi (no hyperbole) mother-in-law in Germany on the LAST day before my passport expired and you have the stuff of Kafkaesque nightmares. This led to a situation where I arrived into the state of Iowa with absolutely NO current ID. I imagine the Iowa DMV is overwhelmed with fake passports that are two days past expiration, such is the ease of duplicating the document. After all, who doesn’t know at least half a dozen folks running around Iowa trying to pass themselves off as somebody else using a “potentially” forged passport just slightly out of expiration? It’s likely just as common as tits on a pumpkin.
“Welcoming” Platitudes Were as Abundant on the numbered waiting slip at the DMV as they were about the house at my sister’s place of residence.
There were many attempts to rectify this less than fortuitous situation. More than one of my friends back home got a front row seat to the ridiculousness as well as my personal angst and disgust which I was unable to suppress while getting involved in trying to help me solve this dilemma.
It turns out that the only quick resolution to my ‘illegal alien’ status is a trip to the New Orleans passport office, the ONLY place in the USA where this can be handled in a timely fashion:
Updated and edited to add: ONLY IF YOU HAVE A TICKET LEAVING THE US IN THE NEXT TEN DAYS, a little something I had forgotten about and which added another degree of difficulty to my life a short while down the road.
Me and my trusty companion Bandit are off to the gulf coast for the purpose of proving that I am not a foreign terrorist or Mexican immigrant. With my passport in hand I will be able to regain some semblance of a normal life in the US (bank account, driver’s license, job….). I’m glad to have found a quick course to the resolution of my troubles and a return to a normal life in the US, even as I’m painfully aware that there may never be a return to ‘normalcy’ for the ‘family’ I left behind in Iowa.
It’s a sad situation when the Iowa Department of Motor vehicles isn’t even allowed to check the Fort Dodge Senior High 1976 yearbook or accept the dozens of signed affidavits on my identity that I’m sure I could have collected from my many friends there in the city in order to ‘prove’ my identity, but we must remain HYPER vigilant against the communist ..err…Muslim threat.
I would have liked to open a business (or two or three) in Fort Dodge and maybe even paying some heavy taxes to help rebuild the blighted areas, but such is life. I doubt I’ll ever move back to Iowa after the fiasco I endured, unless I get a penchant for frostbite or pick up a really heavy methamphetamine habit.
Enjoy.
Part One here.
Carefully preserved among the sacred archives of this curious community is a MSS. copy of the ancient Jewish law, which is said to be the oldest document on earth. It is written on vellum, and is some four or five thousand years old. Nothing but bucksheesh can purchase a sight. Its fame is somewhat dimmed in these latter days, because of the doubts so many authors of Palestine travels have felt themselves privileged to cast upon it. Speaking of this MSS. reminds me that I procured from the high priest of this ancient Samaritan community, at great expense, a secret document of still higher antiquity and far more extraordinary interest, which I propose to publish as soon as I have finished translating it.
Those words were written by a man of unquestionable authority and considerable public stature in the late nineteenth century, in a best selling travel guide he penned after visiting the Holy Land. Pictured above is a portion of the original vellum. The translation of the documents was finished and the manuscripts ready for publication about the time Henry Ford was starting to slap out his original Model T automobiles.
The Tim Channel 