‘Lection News
Yeah, I’m late to the news, but boy that was a lot of v*ters feeling the Bern last weekend. If Hillary and her superdelegates manage to hold on to the nomination through sheer force of establishmentarianism, what’s her slogan going to be?
“Almost a mandate!”
“Not a mandate, but I still won, suckers.”
“Corruption pays!”
“Suck it up; you’re stuck with me.”
“You don’t have to like me. You don’t have to trust me. But you better v*te for me in the general election ’cause the alternative’s even scarier.”
“Mine’s still bigger than The Donald’s.”
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Speaking of The Donald’s, is it true that Larry Flynt has invited Trump to come in and have the item he boasted of at that debate “scientifically” measured?
Friends who came over for Easter brunch swear it’s so. I didn’t even realize Flynt was still alive.
But if so, his slogan is easy: “Still tasteless after all these years.”
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But as somebody hinted in comments a few weeks ago, our motto is likely to be more along the lines of “Clowns to the left of us, jokers to the right … or vice versa.”
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Peeps! And microwaves.
It being Easter, my guests turned up with a box of Peeps (BLUE Peeps, thus the title of this post) and a chocolate “Peter Cottontail,” complete with storybook (which is currently in the freezer along with the choco-wabbit).
And my friends had NO idea about the almost magical properties of Peeps when fired upon at the range! Oh boy, have they got some fun ahead — and now, post Easter, all those Peeps will be half price.
My friends had, at least, heard rumors about what happens if you put a Peep in the microwave (an experiment I declined to try, referring them to YouTube, where everything possible either already has been or will soon be done to some poor Peep).
Before leaving they confessed they had once put a container of gasoline inside an operating microwave in the middle of a field, testing the theory that the vapors would eventually expand from the heat, possibly ignite, and blow the microwave to smithereens. Or at least blast the door off. When nothing happened, they then shot at the microwave with .22s and ended up murdering the microwave’s motor before discovering whether the gasoline would turn the appliance inside-out.
“It’s a guy thing,” the husband explained. I’m not so sure. The wife and at least one set of parents participated.
Ah! Good, clean fun. It’s sad how dead set the fedgov is on preventing anybody from blowing anything up, even such educational purposes.
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Both my friends used to have jobs in county government and even though they’re out of that now, their F*c*b**k friends are still heavily into law enforcement and other such interesting activities. He was shaking his head over the authoritarian “right-wing” rantings of one local police chief (“but at least he’s pro-gun, so that’s something”).
As a lot of others have done lately, my friends have de-politicized themselves, and they’d like to be away from the ranting. But once you’re on FB, how do you (dare) unfriend a police chief? This could be very bad for your long-term health.
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Their de-politization extended even to getting rid of their old Loompanics books and their copy of The Anarchist’s Cookbook on the theory that if they’re not actually going to do anything subversive they don’t want to get caught with “subversive literature” should TS ever HTF in any personal way.
Only problem is, of course, that virtually any literature beyond Maeve Binchy novels and Fifty Shades of Gray can get you labeled subversive when Authoritah has a mind to do the labeling. The Hunger Games or Harry Potter? Tres anti-authoritarian. Encouraging kids to rebel against established authority. Books on edible wild plants or expedient shelters? You crazy survivalist, you. Nice little Mormon guides to putting food by? Reloading manuals? And Boy Scout manuals! Oh my, don’t even think about the implications of those.
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Speaking of literature (and other things), thanks for continuing to use my Amazon links with such enthusiasm even durning this time of “lite” blogging. I’m doing my darnedest to keep the blogging as worthwhile as ever, even if it’s not every day. Your v*te of confidence is much appreciated.
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Oh, one last thing. I’ll have a piece at The Zelman Partisans Tuesday morning. It should post about 5:00 a.m. I’m prepping this ahead of time so can’t directly link to it. But it’ll be there. Enjoy. (UPDATE: Didn’t post until 10:30 since I screwed up. But hope you enjoyed the new post by Carl-Bear and the poll Nicki posted earlier.)
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So … what acts of violence have you committed against poor, helpless Peeps, elderly microwaves, or other inanimate objects?
Hope you had a great Easter.
http://www.peepresearch.org/
. . . Which I arrived at in my early internet days some 18 years ago by way of a site, now defunct but then massive and comprehensive, devoted to the destructive testing of Twinkies. Yes, I had almost as much time on my hands then as today. Show me a shiny time-sink website and I’m worse than any crow.
I’m going to hope that no FBI sorts ever get a look at my library. They’d soil themselves. š Everything from anarchist stuff to wild foods… yep, I’ve got them.
Never did much understand the (mostly male) urge to blow things up, but my youngest son loves it. He started building black powder cannons long ago, So far, so good, but he has to drive a long way into the desert to have any fun with them these days. Guns are just so much neater and cooler, for me anyway. š And the only thing that needs to be cleaned up afterwards is the brass, and of course the gun. But that’s lots of fun.
OT: Dashing terrorism. http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2016/mar/29/chase-bank-holds-dog-owners-check-over-pets-name-d/
On Easter Peeps… the following story is true.
I almost died on Easter Sunday.
The story can only be told in a manner that is seriously stupid in retrospect.
The kids had the various Easter accoutrements chocolate, candy eggs, jelly beans, you get the general picture.
And there were Peeps. Yellow bunny Peeps.
I approached the consumption in that one should combine things in ways that general increase their utility, taste, and coolness.
Adding the use of modern kitchen technology seemed only a to be a natural, geeky, progression to snacking.
I placed the sacrificial bunny on a saucer with a small square of Hershey’s chocolate on top of the bunny.
I laughed, saying “Look, the bunny is planking the chocolate!”
This incensed the marshmallow rabbit to the base of its sticky soul.
Walking to the microwave my dear wife Stephanie says in what could have been the last thing she would ever say to me, “I told the kids not to do that”. I scoffed at the comment. Mistake number one.
I proceed to nuke Mr. Bunny, held down with the torturous weight of the chocolate. I laugh, viewing the swelling treat, the Peep inflating as the chocolate melts into the core of its being, to in hindsight further anger the confection. Mistake number two.
I remove the melted, inflamed, sticky, cracker-less smore, and prepare to eat the sweat treat with relish.
At the same time friends of ours and their daughter arrive, shifting my family into “greet” mode as they head to the side door to usher them in.
I take a fork, decapitate the bunny and eat it. Mistake number three.
Please note, years ago I snored and had sleep apnea. I had surgery that opened the sinus passages, corrected a slightly deviated septum, and included a uvulectomy. I don’t snore now like I did, but still have sleep issues and the sinuses closed backup after two years. Also, the uvula is very important when swallowing or coughing to keep food from moving UP towards your nose. It works like a flap valve. Don’t have your’s removed. I guess that could have been Mistake zero to keep things orderly.
Eating is not the same as swallowing. I failed. The sticky bunny/peep/not-a-smore refused to descend. It stuck, glue-like in its consistency, to the back of my throat, like some sugar based chunk of phlegm…I couldn’t cough it out, it wouldn’t swallow down, the vicious, viscose, vile rabbit was finally able to wreak its wrath on my person. It was trying to kill me.
It almost did.
I was sinking to my knees, music playing from a device on the counter in front of me, I flailed my hands, ripping the power cord from the wall, silencing the music. The family is slowly catching on that I am in distress. I am able to get my fingers in my throat to dig the burrowing bunny out of my airway. The glop of sticky death is finally extracted and I can finally make some really bad coughing, hacking gagging sounds.
It was close, my ears were shutting down and my vision had started to tunnel.
Now it sounds funny and I hope you find the tale morbidly entertaining, but it scared me. Not the dying part so much, we will all die someday and I have had my share of close calls. No, it was the method. The aftermath that was the most disturbing.
Death by Peep. No one should have to suffer the indignity.
EwB
Peeps can be mean.
I’ve never been tempted to do anything to Peeps but eat them. (Did you know you can do that?) But I dislike fresh Peeps; too soft. Rather, I buy up a bunch post-Easter (on sale, of course), open the packaging, and allow them to mature for several months. A year is better, if you have that much patience (or simply forget they’re there). They age like fine wine. Well, no, they don’t actually. But they do get much more chewy, and if you wait long enough you can even snap their heads off before eating.
Some day I’ll tell you about aging gingerbread men.
You’re all welcome.
But are peeps bulletproof?
Only the everbubbly KJW would have the answer. Or think of the question.
And speaking of libraries, I still have my Harry Browne books, bought new, several of the more expedient Army Field Manuals, circa Vietnam, and my original Boy Scout Handbook from 1958.
Hillary Clinton thinks she’s making us an offer we can’t refuse.
We shot peeps after learning about them here. They took everything up to 44 magnum from a lever action 1894 pretty well. 12 gauge shot was OK, 12 gauge slugs didn’t leave enough behind to tell.
We thought we were pretty cool, but the neighbor put a pound of tannerite in an old dishwasher and shot it from 100 yards away. That got everyone’s attention.
Books. Between Mein Kampf, The Communist Manifesto, None Dare Call It Conspiracy, and others, I suppose I could be pretty much be accused of any ideology.
Things to miss. M-80’s (a.k.a. T-bombs, ash cans, silver tubes). Why, one could… and TWO could even… whatever. I only have second hand information anyway.
RG> Show me a shiny time-sink website and Iām worse than any crow.
Dark Roasted Blend š
Heh. Peep research.
I’ve never shot any major appliances. Did once help a friend destroy an old PC. My targets of choice are cans. Clay pigeons are fun too. One place I used to shoot at, there were always lots of shotgun hulls laying around. Those are challenging targets. Jugs of water are always fun.
My next range trip will definitely include the slaughter of Peeps. (Yes, I’ve been meaning to go for a long time, and haven’t.)
I prefer my subversive YA books on the old school side: http://tinyurl.com/govyvmg
My daughter once worked in an office where a secretary had several opened packages of Peeps aging on top of a filing cabinet for over a month after Easter. Apparently her husband objected to having them aging in their home. No one would have dared touch them out of fear of immediate death.
My daughter once worked in an office where a secretary had several opened packages of Peeps aging on top of a filing cabinet for over a month after Easter.
That’s an opening for a horror movie if I ever heard one.
Invasion of the Zombie Peeps
Nice, Phssth. One of my aunts was a high school librarian and would give me books for Christmas in my youth. The Tripod Trilogy was a favorite (including the prequel).