Neanderpundit

from Tam, regarding the possible futures we await:

“fighting corpse-eating rats over cans of Van Camp’s in the weed-choked rubble of a balkanized America.”

As a kid, I read “Daybreak, 2250 AD”* over and over and over again, thinking, how cool would it be to be a savage sifting through the rubble of a lost civilization looking for bits you could use to defeat the Beast Things. Never thought it would actually happen, though.

*”Star man’s Son”, by Andre Norton.

Marijuana legalization is being put to a vote in California. It will win, and the District of Columbia will follow.

The resulting drop in crime (too much crime! let’s make the illegal shit legal and crime will drop!) will be pointed at as a good thing, and it will go nationwide.

This is how the idiots are going to pull their popularity out of the crapper. I told you. You wait and see.

Palm sunday. Wish I could get through the message, to my local pastor, that a little bit of substance in the sermon is better than all the pomp and circumstance. Maybe if he had some concept of how to bring a 2000 year old text to life, how to make it make some sense to you today. If that’s how you acted on palm sunday and easter sunday, and maybe even Christmas, maybe those people that only show up on those days might show up for other days too.

The pointy thing on the end of a forklift is called (Around here, anyway) a fork or a tong.
It’s called a tong because that’s the word your finger screams after you drop a forklift tong on it. If you don’t think your finger can scream, drop a forklift tong on it. Mine happened yesterday, and it’s still screaming TONG! TONG! TONG!.

Wiping your ass while the middle finger of your left hand is screaming TONG! TONG! TONG! is less than optimal. Wiping your ass with your right hand is, of course, not halal.

That’s all for now. Maybe more after I spend some time at Cabelas.