Ghislaine Maxwell: Survivors speak of relief after guilty verdict

 The poor folks still can't decide how to correctly pronounce "Ghislaine".

Visits here on October 14, 2021

 

Palestine?

A Sad Time

Our dear friend has just lost her dog.  We are all very sad, she being the saddest.  I suggested we, The Tutor and I, send her some flowers with the following quote attached:

Upon walking a moonlit field after a great battle, Napoleon Bonaparte, on finding a dog beside the body of his dead master licking his face and howling:

"This soldier, I realized, must have had friends at home and in his regiment; yet he lay there deserted by all except his loyal dog.  I had looked on, unmoved, at battles which decided the future of nations. Tearless, I had given orders which brought death to thousands.  Yet here I was stirred, profoundly stirred, stirred to tears.  And by what?   By the grief of one dog."

Perhaps it is best that our beloved pets pre-decease us for the alternative is just too grim to contemplate

I think it quite consoling.

Jamais Vu

Kabul, Afghanistan

August 15, 2021

After 20 years of war, American troops help in the evacuation of embassy personnel and other civilians.

A Victim of Misplaced Confidence

Me:  "I'm not revealing to you my address and telephone number!  You'll seek me out professing love and then either kill me in a fit of possessive rage over one of my silly platonic men-friends or alternatively slay me for my vast sums of money!"

The Tutor:  "I would not kill you for your alleged riches nor would I kill you while reacting in a puerile jealous pique.  I would never kill for such a vulgar concern as money - I have plenty of my own.  And I would never kill for love - I mean, really, how gauche and ill-bred is that?  I would never kill out of religious zeal or political intrigue either.  I kill as a matter of taste.  Simple as that.  I like pasta, I like the colour beige, I like the music of ABBA and I like to kill."

Me:  "Very well then: 613 - 555 - 1212.  And you better call me!"

The Tutor:  "Thank you.  You won't be sorry.  Do you happen to have any food allergies by any chance?  Or any common phobias that could be truly life-threatening if handled indelicately?"

For Whom The Jar Tolls

I know I can get this book in:

Arabic

Greek

Russian

Thai
 

But can I get it in English?

Maybe here or here?

The Tutor informs me that if he had had the opportunity to cohabit with this chick, he would NOT have kept her bare-foot and pregnant and he certainly would NOT have let her into the kitchen.

Jeez, anywhere BUT the kitchen!

The Tutor's New Wheels

High resolution photographs

RadCity Step-Thru Electric Commuter Bike Version 3

Ha!  He made his own panniers out of a pair of free promotional grocery bags he was given with the company name redacted with a Sharpie.  The white wire basket on the back is from an old chest freezer and the white box in it is a corrugated plastic produce box he picked from the garbage behind the local grocery store.

He pays $2,350.00 CDN for it and secures it with two locks he bought for $2.50 each from the Dollar Store!

He's such a cheap cunt!

I pulled a "Nigerian Chibok Schoolgirl" with his battery.  Let's see the dotard pedal 70 plus pounds of e-bike without power assist.

Ursaphobic Cunt

(For some reason, ya have to click the video twice to get it to play.  I don't know why, nor do I care to know why.  I suspect it's probably a Far-Right ruse to irk the right-thinking folks)

Without any provocation, vicious, and probably rabid, bear-baiting trained dogs and their crack-addled teenage whore of a handler attack two cute little bear cubs and their fluffy momma.

Is there no end to the wickedness of the average California teen?

She probably already owns two Assault Rifles and will no doubt vote for Trump in 2024.

I like her frock though.  It has that Grapes of Wrath dust-bowl-esque vibe.

Innit?
 

Conquistadoras Cobardes

Fuck the spanish

Fuck the catholics

Fuck the spanish catholics.

Oh, and it was smallpox that conquered the New World, not the 'military prowess' of those iberian cunts!

And yes, the use of the feminine gender in the title is deliberate.

In other words......

It was sixty years ago today!

O those heady and halcyon days of an imagined misspent youth.  Wallowing as I did in the bliss of an era which tragically predated me by at least a brace of decades or so.  Nevertheless, a girl can dream.

Speaking of dreams, checkout my latest imagined beau.  No, not the hirsute Commie cunt, but that dreamboat to his left!

Swoon!

Fly me to the moon, Yuri

All The News That's Fit to Print - and then some!

If you scrutinize this recent photograph I retrieved from the Reuters News website, you'll see yours truly brandishing a sign which reads:

ဘာကြောင့်ဆိုင်းဘုတ်တွေကိုအင်္ဂလိပ်လိုရေးတာလဲ

P.S.  Daw Aung San Su Kyi is a cunt, and no mistake.

Mixing Up and Switching Out

Efren Zimbalist, A loyal reader, writes:

Clever doesn't equal funny.  This post was like reading Ikea instructions.


".....Clever doesn't equal funny......."

Nor does it equal art - are you listening Damien Hirst?
Clever, however, can be quite funny if through its effective use cognitive dissonance is generated and/or the reader is possessed of the disparate knowledge necessary to make not-so-immediate connections, which are in turn used to reveal truths.  For instance, the English humour magazine Punch published a cartoon of the English general Sir Charles Napier, the conqueror of Scinde(present day Sindh Province, Pakistan), at the moment of his victory with the caption, Peccavi.  Very clever and very funny.  And as for sarcasm and humour, just because you do not perceive them does not mean they are not present.  We all have embarrassing cognitive impairments.  And for some of us, our impairment is not consciously perceived.

"......This post was like reading Ikea instructions......."

You actually read IKEA instructions?  The BESTÅ BOÅS TV Storage Unit has 27 pages of assembly instructions which do not contain a single word - in any language.  Nowt but line drawings of the various parts - many of which are missing - and Caucasoid anthropoids - always including a female to confirm how easy the assembly can be.  Never any words!
Unfortunately, I have never had the pleasure of purchasing IKEA product, but I do believe my awesome spatial skillz would serve me well.  I've witnessed how IKEA assembly can drive folks Knutsorp.
Yes. I know. I am clever, very clever, but not actually funny.
It's an albatross I must bear.


Um, how about view IKEA instructions?


I'll accept that.
Rats!
I was hoping one of you lot would respond to my obvious fuck-up of the quaint English idiom, "A cross I must bear".  I had a wonderfully clever riposte - in Rime even!

Ah! well a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the albatross
About my neck was hung

God save thee, Efren Zimbalist
From the fiends, that plague thee thus
Why look'st thou foul ? - With my bat-cowl
I fucked the ALBATROSS.

Astronomically funny to those familiar with me, Coleridge and "The Rime".


Well thanks for the inclusion in the poem.  I'm okay with mixing up cliche's and metaphors so you switching out cross for albatross worked well for me.  I think you might dig William S Burroughs if you haven't already read anything by him that is.


"..........I'm okay with mixing up cliche's and metaphors so you switching out cross for albatross worked well for me........"

This is commendable.  I am not, however, "okay" with having to read phrasal verbs like, mixing up; switching out.
How's about addling or befuddling for the former and transposing or exchanging for the latter?  The Queen's is a beautiful thing.  It saddens me to witness native speakers really fuck it up.
William S Burroughs?
You mean the infamous William S. Edgar Rice Burroughs, right?  The author of "Tarzan's Naked Lunch"?
And I quote:

"Jane?  Although I am an extreme example of the archetypal feral child, noble savage and white messiah figure - largely unburdened with character flaws or faults - Tarzan still want more Mugwump jism."


Something like that.


I don't think you're trying.  Is it because I'm Asian and female?  If so, I'll understand.
See the side bar to the right.  I's the seedy, sordid and vexatiously untoward demimondaine in red.  I am reasonably certain you are quite capable of the calibre of coruscating invective that I have grown to cherish and love in my intercourse with The Caucasoid.  Must I beg?

The Isle of Cunt

Okay, now listen!

It's bad enough this blog attracts visitors from Kenya, Cyprus and the USA, but I've just been informed by The Tutor there's been a Manxman skulking about.
A fucking Manxman!

Twice!

Take that testicular agenetic Triskelion and that inane motto of yours, Quocunque Jeceris Stabit, and fuck off!  And take those caudal agenetic cats and those freakish corniculate polygenetic Loaghtan sheep with you too!
They're as fuct as those tree-climbing goats they have in Morocco!



UPDATE
And there have been fuckers from Gibraltar and the United Arab Emirates here of late too!  I beseech you in the bowels of the divinity of your choice to leave me be. 

Blind Turk Covers Finnish Polka

Docha just wanna Dance?

 P.S.  Cats should not react to Finnish Polkas, it's just unseemly.

Arthur Christopher Orme Plummer was born in the same city as The Tutor - a few years earlier, mind.  It is unlikely The Tutor will expire in Connecticut though.

The Tutor was hoping not to be alive when this happened.

O Captain! My Captain!

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,

The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

                         But O heart! heart! heart!

                            O the bleeding drops of red,

                               Where on the deck my Captain lies,

                                  Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,

For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

                         Here Captain! dear father!

                            This arm beneath your head!

                               It is some dream that on the deck,

                                 You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,

The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,

From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

                         Exult O shores, and ring O bells!

                            But I with mournful tread,

                               Walk the deck my Captain lies,

                                  Fallen cold and dead.

Applying a Shear Force

Me:  "Nu?  You're gender-fluid now?"

The Tutor: "It's non-Newtonian though."

An Icon For All Seasons

 

Putting on the Trump

Stop The Steal!

 

Grammer Lessin # 45

The Collective Noun

A collective noun is a word or phrase that refers to a group of people or things as one entity.

Collective nouns represent more than one person or thing in a class.

Examples of common collective nouns used for animals: 

           A flock of birds.

           A pod of whales.

           A herd of deer.

           A hive of bees.

           A litter of puppies.

           A murder of crows.

           A pack of hounds.

           A deplorable of Trumpers