House keys. Phone. Poo bags. Dog treats. That’s pretty much it.

Car keys if I’m driving anywhere.

Be right back; huffing radishes!

Sorry, but I rate it as a B-/7

Wipe mine on a baby rabbit. So soft.

1992 called. They want their pixels back.

Surely all it says is that regardless of our hopes, plans, and intentions sometimes shit hits our fan and we have no control over it?

Meh. I just like classic dagnuts or dingleberries.

Coming soon to a movie theatre near you. And every streaming service. And as an unskipable 3hr 30min ad on Youtube. And as part of the start-up routine of Windows 12.

INT. FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE - DAY

                    JOHN RAMBO
“Cap, these woke, gay immigrants want to stop generative AI. We have to stop them.”

                    BATMAN
“Rambo’s right, and these disabled lesbian Democrat voters will stop at nothing. They must be detained, processed and, where necessary - which is always - terminated.”

                    INDIANA JONES
“Agreed, Batman. We absolutely have to protect our billionaires’ wealth and their way of life. We’ve got might on our side. I know Hunt, McClane, and Reacher are in and, all the way from across the pond, so is Bond. And Harry Potter. But do we have Bourne and Skywalker?”

                    CYBERDYNE SYSTEMS MODEL 101 [AKA THE TERMINATOR]
“Affirmative. Both have answered the call! And we have Toretto and Blade.”

                    HANNIBAL LECTER
“Wait. Toretto and Blade are both… un-white.”

It’s fine. There’s enough activity to keep me in content (as much as I need content), and I don’t see the hate as much as you report.

The only thing wrong with it from my perspective is that Trump and American politics is poisoning it, but they’re poisoning the entire world so…

We are all Womp Womp on this blessed day.

It used to be true, back in the '80s. We called it hedge porn and me and my buddies found two seperate stashes over the years.

May, June, June, June, July, July, July, July, August, August, August, September

I don’t much care for winter.

1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Big if true.

Just like the driver!

“Cunt” as a descriptive term has gotten a lot of flak for the last couple decades, mostly by the bleeders that wear their hearts on their sleeves. The word itself is not so much an insulting denigration as it is a succinct label. And we all use labels for everything and everybody

I use it for you!

I’m not saying soups aren’t nice. But if you offer me, eg, a French Onion Soup (one of the greatest soups there is) and you offer me… a rack of ribs, or a steak, or blackened chicken with dirty rice, soup is coming second every day of the week.

Pffft. I’ve spent the last 30 years being a fat, lazy slob to prepare for my role in an as-yet unwritten movie about a fat, lazy slob.

My time will come! Hopefully before coronary heart disease does.

Add leather chaps (no pants) for a bigger bit of extra zazz!