Tuesday, September 30, 2014
More on the Dallas ebola case
From Terry in FL
http://www.redstate.com/2014/09/30/the-ebola-patient-and-a-call-to-my-show/
Check the dates. Patient showed up in the ER on the 24th with symptoms and was discharged.
Returned to the hospital with same symptoms and additional symptoms days later and tested positive for both malaria and ebola and placed in isolation on the 28th. Four days. Where was he? Where did he go? Who did he infect? And why was that left out of the formal news conference?
http://www.redstate.com/2014/09/30/the-ebola-patient-and-a-call-to-my-show/
Check the dates. Patient showed up in the ER on the 24th with symptoms and was discharged.
Returned to the hospital with same symptoms and additional symptoms days later and tested positive for both malaria and ebola and placed in isolation on the 28th. Four days. Where was he? Where did he go? Who did he infect? And why was that left out of the formal news conference?
BREAKING: 1st case of ebola confirmed in Dallas
Well, that's just spiffy. Add that to the CDC advising mortuaries on how to handle the bodies of ebola victims and it's becoming clear that Enterovirus 68 is the least of our worries.
http://www.theblaze.com/stories/2014/09/30/first-ever-case-of-ebola-diagnosed-in-u-s/
http://www.theblaze.com/stories/2014/09/30/first-ever-case-of-ebola-diagnosed-in-u-s/
Monday, September 29, 2014
Sunday, September 28, 2014
If you're ever in Hot Springs, Arkansas
Support this business owner. In a move to provide a safe environment for customers, Jan Morgan has declared The Gun Cave Indoor Shooting Range to be a Muslim-free zone. Cue ACLU discrimination lawsuits in 3...2....1.....
http://janmorganmedia.com/2014/09/business-muslim-free-zone/#IfGFXTbVzbumlGBb.99
http://janmorganmedia.com/2014/09/business-muslim-free-zone/#IfGFXTbVzbumlGBb.99
Not once, not ever
I know my limits. I'm a fluffy middle-aged soccer mom. I bake cookies, I don't do Pilates. My assets are considerable and better suited for commercial grade denim. You will never see me in public in leggings or yoga pants. Ever. You're welcome.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Friday, September 26, 2014
Update on Xenolith and Miss Rose
Okay, so it's a no-go on the structure they had paid for that was supposed to be "move-in" ready. A pox on the company that sold it to him (Xeno, give me their names and I'll post it far and wide. Businesses who treat people like that do not deserve to be in business.) So all that money down the drain.
Good news is it looks like he's got a line on a trailer that can be moved in on his land. Looks like about $1500 to get it moved and blocked up on his land. From all the people who've helped, he's got a good chunk of it, but could still use some help. Anything is appreciated, nobody has to make "a grand gesture". It's like grains of sand. Each grain alone seems insignificant, but all together you get a beautiful beach. 100 people pitching in $5 could close the gap.
For the full report, go HERE.
So again, his Paypal (and I know I have the right one now) is:
xenolith1964@yahoo.com
and his mailing addy less electronically traceable funds is
Steve Vanderhoff
5909 SE 132 St.
Noble, OK 73068
Good news is it looks like he's got a line on a trailer that can be moved in on his land. Looks like about $1500 to get it moved and blocked up on his land. From all the people who've helped, he's got a good chunk of it, but could still use some help. Anything is appreciated, nobody has to make "a grand gesture". It's like grains of sand. Each grain alone seems insignificant, but all together you get a beautiful beach. 100 people pitching in $5 could close the gap.
For the full report, go HERE.
So again, his Paypal (and I know I have the right one now) is:
xenolith1964@yahoo.com
and his mailing addy less electronically traceable funds is
Steve Vanderhoff
5909 SE 132 St.
Noble, OK 73068
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Yeah, you're fucking magic.
This is how commenting on my blog works: If you comment on a post from the last two weeks and you're not spam, it posts and sends me an email notification.
Except for wirecutter. Oh no, he's got to be "special". I thought he'd just abandoned me, stopped checking in, but no, he's commenting. Stealth commenting. No fucking notification. Like magic.
His comment from the post below:
wirecutter said...
I don't know. I don't question my powers, I just abuse them.
Now you need to do a post about how fucking amazing I am or the shit's gonna hit the fan.
Now you need to do a post about how fucking amazing I am or the shit's gonna hit the fan.
Fuck.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Man with boobs beats women, crowd cheers
Let me be perfectly clear. I don't care what your ideology is, you can't deny biology. Physiology. Nature.
If you are born a man, you have a man's physiology. Frame, muscles, longer arms, stronger punches. If you decide you want to live life as a woman, you have to undergo pretty violent mutilation. Your balls are removed, your cock is hollowed out and inverted, pushed into your lower abdomen and breast are either grown with constant infusion of hormones or with breast implants. All of that, while radical, is still cosmetic. Nothing has altered your physiology. Your skeletal frame and musculature are still very male. Your power and reach are still that of a man. No matter what you look like on the outside or what you think in your head, your body is still a man's body. So when you choose to take your new "transgendered" body into a fight with a woman, you are still a man beating on a woman. And that SHOULD be against the rules. SHOULD. But we all know our world isn't what it used to be, isn't what it should be.
In the past Fox has denounced women who don’t want to receive a public beating from him as thought criminals, suggesting that they “might be a hate-filled person” or “have a bias.”
If you are born a man, you have a man's physiology. Frame, muscles, longer arms, stronger punches. If you decide you want to live life as a woman, you have to undergo pretty violent mutilation. Your balls are removed, your cock is hollowed out and inverted, pushed into your lower abdomen and breast are either grown with constant infusion of hormones or with breast implants. All of that, while radical, is still cosmetic. Nothing has altered your physiology. Your skeletal frame and musculature are still very male. Your power and reach are still that of a man. No matter what you look like on the outside or what you think in your head, your body is still a man's body. So when you choose to take your new "transgendered" body into a fight with a woman, you are still a man beating on a woman. And that SHOULD be against the rules. SHOULD. But we all know our world isn't what it used to be, isn't what it should be.
 |
| Transgender Fallon Fox |
In the past Fox has denounced women who don’t want to receive a public beating from him as thought criminals, suggesting that they “might be a hate-filled person” or “have a bias.”
No, Fallon, they are just normal women who don't want to take an ass-whuppin' by a man with tits. No hate, just common sense.
More HERE
Late night trips to Urgent Care
So........that sucked.
Baby Queen brought home the first head cold of the school year last Friday, Teen Queen caught it over the weekend and I've been battling the yuck since Sunday. But last night got serious. BQ is like this little incubator, she gets the sniffles, coughs twice and is over it. Takes me forever to get it out of my system, but for some reason TQ suffers. I mean REALLY SUFFERS. It slid into her chest yesterday afternoon and by last night, she was seriously struggling to breathe. And terrified. All I could think about was this killer respiratory virus that's been taking down kids across the country, and that's all I needed. I pulled the Emergency Mommy Alarm at 10:30 last night. This is NOT a drill.
Got the neighbor to stay with BQ while she slept, bundled a scared and gasping TQ into the momvan and burned rubber. I don't remember the drive. I had pre-admitted her to Urgent Care while waiting for the sitter, so they were ready for us when we got there. She got a couple of bronchodialators and oxygen through a mask. Her blood oxygen level was so low, they were seriously talking about admitting her to the hospital. That she heard, pulled her mask down, fixed me with the saddest puppy dog eyes, and begged me not to let them take her. She's never had good experiences with hospitals. So I held her hand, trying to be her rock, her MOM, and prayed. Within 30 minutes, her heart rate and breathing slowed to normal and her blood ox was almost normal. They cut us loose at midnight with a nebulizer and directions for breathing treatments every 4 hours for the next several days. Her mask is a lion mouth; I mean when she wears it, she looks like a lion with whiskers and everything. She loves it.
So, getting the Incubator off to school, home for TQ's morning breathing treatment, and then I'm going back to bed. Sorry, but things are going to be a little thin around here for a few days.
Baby Queen brought home the first head cold of the school year last Friday, Teen Queen caught it over the weekend and I've been battling the yuck since Sunday. But last night got serious. BQ is like this little incubator, she gets the sniffles, coughs twice and is over it. Takes me forever to get it out of my system, but for some reason TQ suffers. I mean REALLY SUFFERS. It slid into her chest yesterday afternoon and by last night, she was seriously struggling to breathe. And terrified. All I could think about was this killer respiratory virus that's been taking down kids across the country, and that's all I needed. I pulled the Emergency Mommy Alarm at 10:30 last night. This is NOT a drill.
Got the neighbor to stay with BQ while she slept, bundled a scared and gasping TQ into the momvan and burned rubber. I don't remember the drive. I had pre-admitted her to Urgent Care while waiting for the sitter, so they were ready for us when we got there. She got a couple of bronchodialators and oxygen through a mask. Her blood oxygen level was so low, they were seriously talking about admitting her to the hospital. That she heard, pulled her mask down, fixed me with the saddest puppy dog eyes, and begged me not to let them take her. She's never had good experiences with hospitals. So I held her hand, trying to be her rock, her MOM, and prayed. Within 30 minutes, her heart rate and breathing slowed to normal and her blood ox was almost normal. They cut us loose at midnight with a nebulizer and directions for breathing treatments every 4 hours for the next several days. Her mask is a lion mouth; I mean when she wears it, she looks like a lion with whiskers and everything. She loves it.
So, getting the Incubator off to school, home for TQ's morning breathing treatment, and then I'm going back to bed. Sorry, but things are going to be a little thin around here for a few days.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
The Latte Salute
If you don't care enough to do it right, don't do it at all.
I don't know why it won't play (fuck NSA and Obama), but here's the link.
http://youtu.be/BVjVg346M58
I don't know why it won't play (fuck NSA and Obama), but here's the link.
http://youtu.be/BVjVg346M58
A truly sheltered life
Reading wirecutter's childhood memoirs prompted a couple of memories of my own. You want sheltered? Here we go.
Poppy worked for the natural gas company for almost 34 years, we weren't rich by any standards, but mom was magic with money. It wasn't until I was older that I finally understood what sacrifices were made and how tight things really were. But we kids never knew we were "poor", whatever we needed, we had. What we couldn't pay cash for, we didn't need. I grew up understanding the fundamental difference between a "WANT" and a "NEED".
We lived in an old abandoned farm house that Poppy bought for $800, moved into town, and fixed up. I'm very familiar with "sweat equity". Lived in that house until 9th grade, when he bought another fixer upper (or as mom called it, a "burner downer"). We moved next door into the larger "new" house the summer before High School, and my folks still live there. While growing up with Poppy the Disciplinarian and mom the jury, I had the ideal All-American life. Church three times a week, playing outside until the street lights came on (or Poppy whistled, could hear him 10 blocks away), and talking about boys with my best friends and not knowing what the hell they were saying. We had a classmate named B.J. Head, who was always being teased. I was 18 before I got it. Clueless.
So we're in the family car headed to church, I was about 13 and my brother was almost 17. I don't remember what he was doing, but I lost it and yelled, "You are such a dildo!" I'd heard my friend Laura call her brother that and it seemed to fit. Poppy hit the brakes, the shoulder and stopped just short of the ditch. Mom's face was buried in her hands and Gary was howling with laughter. Poppy turned slowly around and nailed me to the seat with a look that would guarantee I wouldn't have a boyfriend. Ever.
"Where did you hear that word?"
"Laura, sir."
"Do you know what it is? Shut up, Gary."
"No, sir."
"Do you want me to tell you what it means? Shut up, Gary."
"No, sir."
"Are you going to say it again?"
"No, sir."
"Okay, you're grounded for two days."(totally unnecessary, I never went anywhere."
I was 20 and in college before I found out what a dildo was. Now, that's a sheltered life.
Poppy worked for the natural gas company for almost 34 years, we weren't rich by any standards, but mom was magic with money. It wasn't until I was older that I finally understood what sacrifices were made and how tight things really were. But we kids never knew we were "poor", whatever we needed, we had. What we couldn't pay cash for, we didn't need. I grew up understanding the fundamental difference between a "WANT" and a "NEED".
We lived in an old abandoned farm house that Poppy bought for $800, moved into town, and fixed up. I'm very familiar with "sweat equity". Lived in that house until 9th grade, when he bought another fixer upper (or as mom called it, a "burner downer"). We moved next door into the larger "new" house the summer before High School, and my folks still live there. While growing up with Poppy the Disciplinarian and mom the jury, I had the ideal All-American life. Church three times a week, playing outside until the street lights came on (or Poppy whistled, could hear him 10 blocks away), and talking about boys with my best friends and not knowing what the hell they were saying. We had a classmate named B.J. Head, who was always being teased. I was 18 before I got it. Clueless.
So we're in the family car headed to church, I was about 13 and my brother was almost 17. I don't remember what he was doing, but I lost it and yelled, "You are such a dildo!" I'd heard my friend Laura call her brother that and it seemed to fit. Poppy hit the brakes, the shoulder and stopped just short of the ditch. Mom's face was buried in her hands and Gary was howling with laughter. Poppy turned slowly around and nailed me to the seat with a look that would guarantee I wouldn't have a boyfriend. Ever.
"Where did you hear that word?"
"Laura, sir."
"Do you know what it is? Shut up, Gary."
"No, sir."
"Do you want me to tell you what it means? Shut up, Gary."
"No, sir."
"Are you going to say it again?"
"No, sir."
"Okay, you're grounded for two days."(totally unnecessary, I never went anywhere."
I was 20 and in college before I found out what a dildo was. Now, that's a sheltered life.
Monday, September 22, 2014
For you boob men
Meet 21 year old Jasmine Tridevil (just a guess, but that's not her real last name). She wasn't satisfied with more mundane choices of career, she wanted the limelight. Her moment in the sun. Fame and fortune. And she would stop at nothing to become the next big reality tv star. Now, how does an average American girl with $20K and not a lick of sense or decency achieve stardom? I'm glad you asked.
That's right. Instead of investing in training or education, instead of investing in a business venture or creative endeavor, Ms. Tridevil bought herself a booby. One. Singular. You know, to nestle between the other two. Because that's what the world needs, a self-absorbed, empty, soulless, 3-titttied freak show with her own reality series.
I weep for this country.
Stop! Just.....stop.
Ladies, I'm sorry if you're sporting this 'do,
but someone needs to have an honest chat with y'all.
This is not attractive.
This is not natural.
This is the hallmark of a female douchebag.
So please, let it grow out,
(seriously, what's with the 2 inch chop in the middle of your crown??)
and try for something less bitchy.
Thank you.
Oh, and lose the sperm earring.
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Saturday, September 20, 2014
Friday, September 19, 2014
Dump her ass, dude
I don't care how hot she is, stupid like that should not be tolerated.
As Angel bangs her head on the keyboard....
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Happiness
Something that's been pretty scarce around here lately. It seems like there's always one more crisis, one more bit of bad news, one more loved one with a death sentence (Fuck Cancer). When the folks went on vacation a few weeks ago, we puppysat Snoopy for them, and I handled their travel arrangements and hotel reservations. Things went screwy, as they always do, and I somehow lost them on the Vegas Strip at 10 pm after they'd been driving for 10 hours. I got them back to the road their hotel was on, and they overshot it. Three times. The last time, I heard my mom exclaim, "Bill!" and the phone went dead. It was about midnight my time, I hadn't showered yet, and the girls were going to be up in a few hours for school. So on the verge of tears, not ready to be an orphan, I got ready for bed praying the whole time. Tried their cell one more time, straight to voicemail, so I called the front desk of their hotel, not really sure what I was going to ask, but determined not to blurt out, "I've lost my folks!" I calmly ~cough~ explained the situation and inquired if they had managed to check in. The desk clerk, bless her, told me that they had indeed checked in and would I like her to ring their room? YES! So hearing their voices and sure they were safe and sound, I tucked them in and went to bed.
My eye started twitching that night and hasn't stopped. Some days it's barely noticeable, some days it's like an epileptic morse code operator. Last night it felt like a strobe light. But today is a really rough day, digesting the latest news that a dear friend and Teen Queen's Godmother is facing terminal breast cancer and facing my own mammogram in the morning. And I get a lovely surprise package. My folks sent me a Thank You Pig. I'm smiling every time I look at him.
Thanks mom and Poppy, love you beyond words!
My eye started twitching that night and hasn't stopped. Some days it's barely noticeable, some days it's like an epileptic morse code operator. Last night it felt like a strobe light. But today is a really rough day, digesting the latest news that a dear friend and Teen Queen's Godmother is facing terminal breast cancer and facing my own mammogram in the morning. And I get a lovely surprise package. My folks sent me a Thank You Pig. I'm smiling every time I look at him.
Thanks mom and Poppy, love you beyond words!