Breeder Outrage
Artistic rendering of “stabby.”
Note: Hippie Cahier proactively assisted with a single instance of grammar in this post. The remainder of errors are, as always, solely my own. -Ed.
A teacher quipped on Twitter one day that her students made her feel “stabby.” Outraged parents, obviously, well-provisioned with torches and pitchforks, demanded that her head be removed and braised like an oxtail and served on a silver platter as a delicate amuse-bouche at the next school board meeting. Now that is justice deliciously served!
Yeah, that sounds like an appropriately-measured response. Because, yeah, I’m so sure they’re all such wonderful people and perfect parents to boot.
Fact: On average, Americans shop six hours a week and spend only 40 minutes playing with their children.
Source: PBS.org – Affluenza
In the world of social media umbrage, judgement can be swift and final. Make an ill-advised joke before boarding an airplane and by the time you land your employer may have already knee-jerk terminated your career. That must have been a really good joke. (I’m not attempting to evaluate the social content of the joke here.)
Sometimes the target of ire may really “deserve” what they get. I guess in some cases the downside of not waiting for actual facts can backfire. Oops. Too bad, so sad. At least you got your 15 minutes of notoriety, right?
Throw Momma From The Brain #dark #morose #skipit
What are the odds? My wife and I are just lucky I guess. In the span of only a few weeks we got to witness not one but two horrible displays of human nature, and both in the same place.
There’s a tiny little cafe in our town where the prices are decades behind the times and the portions are huge and the food is yummy. The service is old school and top notch. It’s a tiny little place around the corner from the music store where they still peddle ancient things like CDs. The cafe doesn’t offer wifi and they don’t take plastic. It’s cash only. There are only eight booths. It also happens to be the kitchen side of a local bar. Going there is like traveling back in time.
Except for one thing. The iDevices. This evil spawn has infected even our little cafe. Dammit.
Recently we saw an elderly couple come in and sit on the same side of a booth and wait. Soon they were joined by their daughter and granddaughter, both of whom had their noses buried in their iDevices. I’m not even sure they said hi. Finally all together it was time to order.
What happened next was the damnedest thing.
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Catholic Enhancement
This special post is dedicated to Dick Van Dyke. And not because he’s Catholic, either. He’s not. I won’t say more on the subject but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.
In all the hubbub about contraception, Rush Limbaugh, sluts, and political candidates wanting to triple the personal deduction for each child, something very special about the debate was forgotten by the wayside.
Don’t worry. I’m still here to do my job. And that’s to remind everyone.
Let us prey.
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Santorum’s Tripling Drown
Hillary Clinton with a glass that reportedly contains Crown Royal. I've never seen her look happier. Woots!
Carmen, read to the end. The musical selection at the bottom has, hopefully, just the right amount of twang. Maybe you can finish one of my musical selections for once? 🙂
Call it “Triple Down Economics,” if you will.
Do you know some of the general specifics of the tax plans of the GOP candidates? Today I want to examine a surprising aspect of the plan offered by Rick Santorum.
To preface these comments, let me say this: I don’t know much about taxes except that I get screwed over by them and that if you took all of the tax money I have paid and will pay in my entire lifetime you wouldn’t have enough money to pay for the red paint to make the letter “U” in “USA” on the side near the bottom of the Saturn IV rocket.
I have no idea what the hell the bloody difference is between the “Child Tax Credit” and the “personal exemption for dependent children.” In fact, if I did, I’d ask you to shoot me in the head.
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Whatcha thinking? Procreation recreation?
Someone asked me what I was thinking and this post represents what happened next…
This is also Throat Punch Thursday! Ole!
So yeah, never ask me what I’m thinking.
This is a two-part post. The musical interlude above was part one. Part two is more ribald. It contains frank discussions of sexuality and may be too intense for some readers.
WARNING – I’m not kidding. Do not make the jump if you can’t handle a little adult stuff and humor. Did I mention I’m not kidding? Just cut your losses and move on. Nothing to see here.
You have been warned. (I’m not kidding.)
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Shouts from the Abyss 
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