Friday, February 23, 2024

Trumpus Loves Rumpus - Blood with Tea and Crumpets

Trumpus wants public executions? Okay. Charge $1.00 a ticket. Premium price if you want to be up close to the blood and foam. We could pay off the national debt two or three executions in.

Donald Trump Wants to Use the Firing Squad, Mass Executions, and Videos to Turn Executions Into Reality TV - Austin Sarat



What will Tangerine Toddler do when convicted and facing jail? Maybe pretend to be insane for the legal and political space it will give him? He is doing the job now rather well. Or will he run? He has jets.

I would bet money he learned the tactic from Vincent Gigante. It is possible Trump knew him, and Vincent is his kind of mentor. Gigante went to Jesus in 2005. While Gigante lived, he was a mobster’s mobster.

We don’t break our Captains. We kill them. — Vincent Gigante

Quote: For about 30 years, Gigante feigned insanity in an effort to throw law enforcement off his trail. Dubbed “The Oddfather” and “The Enigma in the Bathrobe” by the media, Gigante often wandered the streets of Greenwich Village in his bathrobe and slippers, mumbling incoherently to himself. He was indicted on federal racketeering charges in 1990, but was determined to be mentally unfit to stand trial. In 1997, he was tried and convicted of racketeering and conspiracy, and sentenced to 12 years in prison.

— Picture and quote from Wikipedia — send them money. 

Friends called him Vinny. Vinny was a boxer. Although Vinny’s mugshot is thuggish, he was handsome. He sets my Italian genes off and dancing the tarantella. 

I love the bad boys. Not Trumpus. On a scale of one to ten, Donald is an Eww! Shudder.

Vinny, I wish I had known you. I love the Bad Boys. People found The Chin irresistibly attractive, and a good book about his life and legend is:



Sunday, February 18, 2024

Battle on January 6, 2021 - Quisling in Pennsylvania

Cartoon AMERICAN EXAMINER, 1910 Dave Thomson collection

Scott Perry did not get his hands dirty killing people or bear-spraying police during the battle. He created part of the plan and the ideological framework for the event. I live in Pennsylvania. As we say here colloquially, “His ass is mine.”  Politically speaking of course.

There is a Congressman Scott Perry
Of whom Pennsylvanians must be wary.
What he did on January 6th
Gives the Patriots fits.
Another term sure would be scary.
Up him; down him.
FBI all around him.

Samuel Langhorne Clemens, pen name Mark Twain, was called “the Father of American Literature” by William Faulkner. Twain’s contempt for Congress is legendary.*

Robert Berkeley “Bob” Minor, alternatively known as “Fighting Bob”, was a political cartoonist, a radical journalist, and, beginning in 1920, a leading member of the Communist Party USA.

“The use of the name “quisling” as a term for collaborators or traitors in general probably came about upon Vidkun Quisling’s unsuccessful 1940 coup d’état, when he attempted to seize power and make Norway cease resisting the invading Germans. The term was widely introduced to an English-speaking audience by the British newspaper The Times.” — Wikipedia

* Twain's quotes come from Goodreads.


“Reader, suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself.”― Mark Twain

"The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, unless, of course, you are congress."
Mark Twain

Sunday, February 11, 2024

Just Take My Word for It

I tried to save the discussion with the robot. I cannot find it. Sucks to be Ancient.

 
National Women’s History Museum

“No matter what men think, abortion is a fact of life. Women have always had them; they always have and they always will. Are they going to have good ones or bad ones? Will the good ones be reserved for the rich, while the poor women go to quacks?”

Shirley Chisholm, Unbought And Unbossed

I asked a chat search robot “In how many states can a rapist sue for child visitation?" 

I was a habitue of the old AOL Abortion Debate Board. The answer used to be 11. I am an activist. I can kill you with history and information. I have survived more than one rape. One cannot abort a rape pregnancy in some States without becoming a criminal. 

The robot told me that rape is a serious crime and my question is "rude and unacceptable."

I replied “I am a rape survivor.” The robot then gave me the legal and numerical information. I was so shocked at its initial answer that I not only failed to save it, I do not remember the answer. More than one state. 

I then asked the robot if its first answer was programmed in for legal reasons. No answer. I asked again. Political and legal gaslighting. No answer. 

Artificial Intelligence? What do you think?


Wednesday, February 7, 2024

HUNTER BIDEN HAS A PENIS…and he uses it.


HELP YOURSELF DEAR


Marjorie Taylor Greene
Showed us
Hunter’s dyck.
Oh, my goodness!
It is so long and thick.
I would jump on Hunter.
If only I could.
Damn thing looks
Like it’s made out of wood.
Pornography in D.C.?
Thank you, Peach Queen.
One of the most fetching penises
I have yet seen.

Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene shows off X-rated pics of Hunter Biden with women while questioning IRS whistleblower (nypost.com)

  • Related Names:
    Federal Theatre Project (U.S.) , sponsor
  • Date Created/Published: [California : Federal Art Project, 1937]
  • Medium: 1 print (poster) : silkscreen, color.
  • Summary: Poster for Federal Theatre Project presentation of “Help Yourself” at the Hollywood Playhouse, showing a hand holding a stack of money.

Tuesday, June 20, 2023

Hat Tip to the Great Aesop or A Fable for Our Times


A Fable for Our Times

Bigotry (subheading racism) is like owning a big dog. Let us call the dog ICK.

I have no problem with ICK as long as you keep the dog at home or on a leash. It is your ICK. Play ball with it in your yard. Feed it pepperoni in the evening. Have a beer and give the mutt a pat. Enjoy. 

If you take ICK out in public, keep ICK on a leash. If ICK bites me or a child or shits on the sidewalk, you make your ICK my  problem. And our community's problem. Nobody likes problems. Nobody. ICK bites hurt.

I am a fan of Roland Martin and Crazy Ass White People. This is my idea of a feel good story. Jesus loves everybody. No exceptions. 

Old ladies can be rabble rousing white trash. I have been known to rouse a rabble from time to time. Tell me why you rouse a rabble and I will tell you who you are. Or Roland Martin will. You go, Roland.

Kudos to this Restaurant Manager. He is an educated man who speaks two languages. He protects his business from rabble rousing trash (ugh!) in a calm effective way. He protects the peace of his patrons. 



Saturday, June 17, 2023

I started being really proud of the fact that I was gay even though I wasn't. - Kurt Cobain


NOW, THEREFORE, I, BARACK OBAMA, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and the laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim June 2013 as Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Pride Month. 


" I call upon the people of the United States to eliminate prejudice everywhere it exists, and to celebrate the great diversity of the American people."




IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this thirty-first day of May, in the year of our Lord two thousand thirteen, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and thirty-seventh. - Barack Obama.


http://fyeahqueervintage.tumblr.com/http://issuu.com/pridemagazine/docs/pride12_issuu


Friday, June 9, 2023

We come a long Way, Baby.

This is the newspaper story that ran one week after the raid on the Stonewall Inn. Notice the condescension and ridicule. Happy Pride Month.

HOMO NEST RAIDED – QUEEN BEES ARE STINGING MAD

-by Jerry Lisker, New York Daily News, July 6th 1969

She sat there with her legs crossed, the lashes of her mascara-coated eyes beating like the wings of a hummingbird. She was angry. She was so upset she hadn’t bothered to shave. A day old stubble was beginning to push through the pancake makeup. She was a he. A queen of Christopher Street.

Last weekend the queens had turned commandos and stood bra strap to bra strap against an invasion of the helmeted Tactical Patrol Force. The elite police squad had shut down one of their private gay clubs, the Stonewall Inn at 57 Christopher St., in the heart of a three-block homosexual community in Greenwich Village. Queen Power reared its bleached blonde head in revolt. New York City experienced its first homosexual riot. “We may have lost the battle, sweets, but the war is far from over,” lisped an unofficial lady-in-waiting from the court of the Queens.

“We’ve had all we can take from the Gestapo,” the spokesman, or spokeswoman, continued. “We’re putting our foot down once and for all.” The foot wore a spiked heel. According to reports, the Stonewall Inn, a two-story structure with a sand painted brick and opaque glass facade, was a mecca for the homosexual element in the village who wanted nothing but a private little place where they could congregate, drink, dance and do whatever little girls do when they get together.

The thick glass shut out the outside world of the street. Inside, the Stonewall bathed in wild, bright psychedelic lights, while the patrons writhed to the sounds of a juke box on a square dance floor surrounded by booths and tables. The bar did a good business and the waiters, or waitresses, were always kept busy, as they snaked their way around the dancing customers to the booths and tables. For nearly two years, peace and tranquility reigned supreme for the Alice in Wonderland clientele.

The Raid Last Friday

Last Friday the privacy of the Stonewall was invaded by police from the First Division. It was a raid. They had a warrant. After two years, police said they had been informed that liquor was being served on the premises. Since the Stonewall was without a license, the place was being closed. It was the law.

All hell broke loose when the police entered the Stonewall. The girls instinctively reached for each other. Others stood frozen, locked in an embrace of fear.

Only a handful of police were on hand for the initial landing in the homosexual beachhead. They ushered the patrons out onto Christopher Street, just off Sheridan Square. A crowd had formed in front of the Stonewall and the customers were greeted with cheers of encouragement from the gallery.

The whole proceeding took on the aura of a homosexual Academy Awards Night. The Queens pranced out to the street blowing kisses and waving to the crowd. A beauty of a specimen named Stella wailed uncontrollably while being led to the sidewalk in front of the Stonewall by a cop. She later confessed that she didn’t protest the manhandling by the officer, it was just that her hair was in curlers and she was afraid her new beau might be in the crowd and spot her. She didn’t want him to see her this way, she wept.

Queen Power

The crowd began to get out of hand, eye witnesses said. Then, without warning, Queen Power exploded with all the fury of a gay atomic bomb. Queens, princesses and ladies-in-waiting began hurling anything they could get their polished, manicured fingernails on. Bobby pins, compacts, curlers, lipstick tubes and other femme fatale missiles were flying in the direction of the cops. The war was on. The lilies of the valley had become carnivorous jungle plants.

Urged on by cries of “C’mon girls, lets go get ’em,” the defenders of Stonewall launched an attack. The cops called for assistance. To the rescue came the Tactical Patrol Force.

Flushed with the excitement of battle, a fellow called Gloria pranced around like Wonder Woman, while several Florence Nightingales administered first aid to the fallen warriors. There were some assorted scratches and bruises, but nothing serious was suffered by the honeys turned Madwoman of Chaillot.

Official reports listed four injured policemen with 13 arrests. The War of the Roses lasted about 2 hours from about midnight to 2 a.m. There was a return bout Wednesday night.

Two veterans recently recalled the battle and issued a warning to the cops. “If they close up all the gay joints in this area, there is going to be all out war.”

Bruce and Nan

Both said they were refugees from Indiana and had come to New York where they could live together happily ever after. They were in their early 20’s. They preferred to be called by their married names, Bruce and Nan.

“I don’t like your paper,” Nan lisped matter-of-factly. “It’s anti-fag and pro-cop.”

“I’ll bet you didn’t see what they did to the Stonewall. Did the pigs tell you that they smashed everything in sight? Did you ask them why they stole money out of the cash register and then smashed it with a sledge hammer? Did you ask them why it took them two years to discover that the Stonewall didn’t have a liquor license.”

Holly Woodlawn 
Bruce nodded in agreement and reached over for Nan’s trembling hands.

“Calm down, doll,” he said. “Your face is getting all flushed.”

Nan wiped her face with a tissue.

“This would have to happen right before the wedding. The reception was going to be held at the Stonewall, too,” Nan said, tossing her ashen-tinted hair over her shoulder.

“What wedding?,” the bystander asked.

Nan frowned with a how-could-anybody-be-so-stupid look. “Eric and Jack’s wedding, of course. They’re finally tying the knot. I thought they’d never get together.”

Meet Shirley

“We’ll have to find another place, that’s all there is to it,” Bruce sighed. “But every time we start a place, the cops break it up sooner or later.”

Andy Warhol Self Portrait
“They let us operate just as long as the payoff is regular,” Nan said bitterly. “I believe they closed up the Stonewall because there was some trouble with the payoff to the cops. I think that’s the real reason. It’s a shame. It was such a lovely place. We never bothered anybody. Why couldn’t they leave us alone?”

Shirley Evans, a neighbor with two children, agrees that the Stonewall was not a rowdy place and the persons who frequented the club were never troublesome. She lives at 45 Christopher St.

“Up until the night of the police raid there was never any trouble there,” she said. “The homosexuals minded their own business and never bothered a soul. There were never any fights or hollering, or anything like that. They just wanted to be left alone. I don’t know what they did inside, but that’s their business. I was never in there myself. It was just awful when the police came. It was like a swarm of hornets attacking a bunch of butterflies.”

A reporter visited the now closed Stonewall and it indeed looked like a cyclone had struck the premises.

Police said there were over 200 people in the Stonewall when they entered with a warrant. The crowd outside was estimated at 500 to 1,000. According to police, the Stonewall had been under observation for some time. Being a private club, plain clothesmen were refused entrance to the inside when they periodically tried to check the place. “They had the tightest security in the Village,” a First Division officer said, “We could never get near the place without a warrant.”

Police Talk

The men of the First Division were unable to find any humor in the situation, despite the comical overtones of the raid.

“They were throwing more than lace hankies,” one inspector said. “I was almost decapitated by a slab of thick glass. It was thrown like a discus and just missed my throat by inches. The beer can didn’t miss, though, “it hit me right above the temple.”

Police also believe the club was operated by Mafia connected owners. The police did confiscate the Stonewall’s cash register as proceeds from an illegal operation. The receipts were counted and are on file at the division headquarters. The warrant was served and the establishment closed on the grounds it was an illegal membership club with no license, and no license to serve liquor.

The police are sure of one thing. They haven’t heard the last from the Girls of Christopher Street.


Tuesday, May 9, 2023

I Troll the Internet

I am retired. I have nothing and no one to do. Why do I troll? Because I can.

I hang out on the message boards. Lots of evangelical Christians comment there. They have great screen names like LordJesusYourGod and HeHasRisen752. Some of them are Fruit Loops. And then, there is Marilyn.

Marilyn's message is that oral and anal sex are The Original Sin of Adam. Marilyn quoted the Bible and used the word "fornicate" 6 times. I love the word fornicate. It is so euphonious. Say it loud. Say it proud.

So I fired back with A Little Ditty for Marilyn:

Fornicate! Fornicate!
Who gave us this sex so great?
It's God.
As I do the in and out,
I have oft been known to shout:
Oh God.

A couple of hours later, when they let Marilyn use the computer in the day room again, she left me another message with more Bible quotes and the word fornication in all CAPITALS and boldface. So I broke out in song again:

FORNICATION!
I am still under your spell.
And if I could speak,
What an erotic tale I could tell.
Of a screw that I have not forgotten,
Of a screw that keeps the silent magic in FORNICATION for me.

I went to get a cup of coffee, came back to the computer, and there was another message from Marilyn. More Bible quotes. And this time the word fornication was in all CAPITALS, bold, italic and bright red. So I wrote back:

It was fornication, I know.
That was what was making my HooHoo glow.
It was up and down.
It was front and back,
I felt my legs go slackety slack, Dear.

I thought it was just some mishap,
When his wife found her way to my shack.
Oops, a big fat gun!
Damn, I had to run!
I escaped out the backety back, Dear.

The wage of Trolling is guilt. Marilyn never wrote me again. I am so going to Hell.