First, the fate of our partially burned Victorian house is still up in the air, but I’ll be getting a bid from a contractor and a number from our insurance company this week, and those will decide whether we can try to hang on to the house or not.
In the meantime, I’ve posted another pic from inside the house to my page at Martinsimpsonwriting.com. On Friday I posted a picture of one of the fireplaces, and today’s pic is a close-up of the lion’s head tiles on that fireplace.
My tech support is coming home from her sophomore year at college in a week, and if we can hang on to Rosewood, she’ll help me set up a folder (or whatever the kids these days call such a thing) on my site, where I can post some Rosewood pics in one location, rather than one at a time on my homepage.
In the meantime, behold the tiles that made me buy the house!
As always, the larger world continues to provide fodder for meditation and mockery.
Let’s start with the mockery.
Regular readers know how much I love running jokes. Whenever I think up a “Pelosi is a mummy,” “Joe Biden is actually dead,” or “#wemustneverstopmocking Grandma Squanto” line, I feel duty-bound to keep wringing out that shammy.
In my experience, repeating the same joke a handful of times can make it tiresome. But somewhere around the 9th or 10th iteration, it gets funny again. I’m not a trained humorist, so I can’t prove it – but it’s my theory, and I’m sticking to it.
So imagine my dismay when CNN+ closed down faster than an all-you-can-eat buffet when the owner saw Lizzo and JB Pritzker approaching the front door.
I was looking forward to having CNN+ to kick around for at least a year or so, but no. They spend between $400-500 MILLION dollars launching it, and I’ve barely had time to grab some popcorn and ease into my recliner, and… it’s gone!
Not since Willie Brown took Que Mala to a swingers’ party as his “plus one” has a plus turned out to be such a negative!
The amazing thing is that in the fever swamps of the delusional left, people somehow thought this would work! Do they not conduct any kind of market research over there?
In recent years, the vast majority of the nation has been offered the option of watching CNN for free, and they’ve said, “Nope. Still too expensive. It’s literally not worth anything.” So why would anyone expect people to pay for something that they weren’t willing to watch for free?
I especially enjoyed a NY Post story on how shocked many CNN employees were at the implosion. (“A giant dirigible filled with a highly flammable gas? What could go wrong?!”) One unintentionally hilarious inside source was quoted as saying, “CNN should have just stuck to what they do well, which is hard news, not Anderson Cooper giving parenting advice.”
I get that last part, because who would go to Pretty Boy Cooper for his thoughts on parenting? (“First, choose a partner with whom it is physically impossible to have children…”)
But “hard news” is what CNN “does well?” If I weren’t such a gentleman, I’d make the obvious Jeff Toobin joke at this point. But I am far too classy for that.
Changing topics, I’ve noticed some great animal stories lately, several of which involve members of the animal kingdom getting one over on our Cadaver in Chief.
The bird pooping on Brandon is almost too perfect. If you were a fiction writer and came up with that, any decent editor would object on the grounds that it was too ham-handed, and too cute by half. The karmic perfection of a president who’s been showering us with a fecal avalanche of lies and horrible policy being Schumered upon by a bird during a speech? No one will buy that.
And yet it really happened!
And the White House staff’s reaction was completely on-brand: they denied the evidence of your own eyes, and insisted that what hit Biden’s shoulder was “corn.”
I was raised in the Midwest, surrounded by corn. So while I’m not a biologist — and thus can’t determine whether Sharon Stone in the leg-crossing scene from Basic Instinct (giggity) is a woman or not – I’ve got the equivalent of a Master’s degree in Corn Recognizing. (A degree that would make one much more employable than a PhD in Grievance Studies, by the way.)
And I can unequivocally state that that was NOT corn.
Unless it was creamed corn.
In which case Hacky Psaki’s theory is that a bird taught himself how to use a can opener, emptied out most of a can of creamed corn, and flew over the president. Then, in a feat not equaled since the battle of Midway, that heroic bird flipped the can upside down in his mighty talons, dropping its contents toward Joe’s bald head as if it were the Japanese carrier Akagi.
Or, alternatively, a bird crapped on the president on live tv.
As a big fan of Occam’s Razor, I salute that nameless hero of a bird, who in one brave action, has done what all true Americans wish we could do.
But Joey Gaffes was not finished with the animal kingdom.
In the same week, during an event on the White House lawn, Biden wandered too close to a crowd, and began speaking to them. Fearing the kind of mortifying incident that usually happens when the prez goes off script (“Our soldiers will soon be fighting in the Ukraine, and using chemical weapons. Also, Republicans will soon be putting blacks back in chains, and sanctions never deter. I’m not joking, it’s a big f’ing deal!”), his handlers leapt into action.
And deployed someone in an Easter bunny suit – you can’t make this up — to corral the leader of the free world, the way you may have seen dogs herding dull-witted sheep into a pen.
But I mean no offense to those sheep. At least they manage not to be defecated on by the dogs who are herding them. Plus, you never see one of them turn and shake the hand of an invisible sheep that doesn’t exist, while “Hail to the Sheep” plays despondently in the background.
But let’s not end on that dispiriting note. Instead, let us praise a heroic Ukrainian Jack Russell terrier named Patron.
You may have heard that the Russians miscalculated when they tried to take the Ukrainian capital of Kyiv. Apparently they thought that the defenders were a bunch of blue-state types, the Vermonters of eastern Europe. Instead, they found out that “Kyiv” is Ukrainian for “Texas.” So they got sent packing, with their tail between their legs.
As they withdrew, they left hundreds of mines and booby traps in the area. Enter Patron, who has been spending his days detecting those mines, so that his handlers can defuse them. All he expects is some cheese treats and some belly rubs in return. You can find pictures of him online, wearing an adorable little dog-sized military vest.
I think I speak for all of CO Nation when I say that I’d much rather be governed by Patron the Jack Russell and the Nameless Hero Bird of Iowa, than by Joey Gaffes and Que Mala.
It’s been a long 4 years, and it’s only been 65 weeks.