Justice is eyes gouged out
They say that justice is blind. As far as I can tell it has had its eyes gouged out.
Compare and contrast.
A man with a .38 revolver and 10 rounds of ammunition entered a building. He went to the office of his first victim and shot him in the shoulder and chest, and twice in the head. He reloaded his gun while walking to another office and found his second victim who was shot five times with “the final two shots fired with the gun’s barrel touching” the victim’s skull.
The Story Of My Life
Imagine you are a very loyal patron of a restaurant.
It is your routine, on a daily basis, to stop in for lunch and order the “Number Three” special.
You do this every day for a year.
Then, the day after your loyal customer anniversary, you see someone with what appears to be the Number Three. Except it’s different. It has a pickle.
Where the hell did that come from, you think to yourself. You ain’t never seen no pickle on the Number Three. You’re a loyal customer so you decide to ask. That pickle looks damn good and would go well with your customary bit of kibble.
“How do you get the pickle?” you ask like the naive idiot that you are.
That’s when your “friend” on the other side of the counter cheerfully replies, “Oh, the numbered combo specials always come with a pickle.”
That moment of discovery when you realize you’ve been getting screwed and didn’t even know it? That’s the story of my life.
Shut Down Logic #Hobgoblins
The other day I read an article that made an interesting point. I’ll have to paraphrase since I can no longer find it. The point of the article was this: “It is constitutional to fight Obamacare by defunding it.”
While trying to find the article again so I could link it in this post, I found a lot more articles. Some, on the left, called defunding unconstitutional. Meanwhile, others on the right said it was fine and dandy.
So, what’s a regular idiot like me supposed to think? These are (presumably) people who know about this sort of thing, went to school, studied it, and know a hell of lot more about the nuts and bolts than a dolt like me. And, lo and behold, all of these so called experts don’t seem to agree. Worse, their varied opinions appear to be based on ideological turf.
Which way is up?
Continue reading →
Freedom fries again
Freedom fries have been attacked. Freedom fries will be defended.
Remember the good old days when politician hyperbole was limited to things like “freedom fries?” Well, maybe not. Maybe that golden era never existed. But that’s a far cry from things like a “Satan sandwich” and “Satan fries.” No, I’m not making that up. Google it. It’s there.
But this isn’t a post about that. This is a post about foods.
Last Monday the Cow Orker was hungry. She said she was going to the Mexican fast food drive thru restaurant up the street. She asked if I wanted anything.
“I’ll take some french fries, please.”
Everyone thought I was nuts. French fries at a Mexican restaurant? “We’ll see,” I said with a wizened look in my eye.
She came back with a huge container of piping hot fries. They had made them fresh just for me. They were delicious, gorgeous, plump, beautiful and served up in a large styrofoam container. And the whole order was only $1.80. I think a large order at McDonalds costs almost twice as much.
The Cow Orker was insanely jealous. “I’ll just sit here and eat my chips. The English contribution to world cuisine: the chip!” Mwuhahaha!
Today she decided to go back and get her own. She was positively beside herself with the wanting of the chips. She came back in the office talking about “disappointment.” For a moment, that made me jealous. What the hell is my personal companion doing flirting with someone else?
We gathered around the sad little bag she had returned with. She reached in and pulled out this tiny, greasy mess that looked more like a potato massacre than anything resembling what we had seen on Monday.
Limp. Lifeless. Greasy. Mushy. Lackluster. Wanting. Decidedly not served in a big stryofoam container but a little cup. Sad. Pathetic. Impotent. Spent. Waste. Different. Barely warm.
“What happened?” we asked.
She explained that she had ordered the exact same thing as before. It was $1.80, just like before. But the server had no idea what she was talking about when she explained that these fries were completely different. “No, no,” she was assured. “That’s how they always are.”
Except for that apparently make-believe land of 48 hours ago.
And that’s how I earned the title, Lord of the Fries.