Friday Ephemera (780)
All the fun of the fair. || A ride to remember. || Batman in a jam. || Her eyelash curler broke and her underwear keeps going missing. || “Mom, guess what?” || He wants to talk about greed. || Game over. || Incoming. || Nommy-nommy-nom. || The engineering of Mount Rushmore. || Just checking what you are. || Variation on a theme. || Very modern moral problems. || Novelty evaporates. || I remember seeing this one here well into the 80s. || Bag athleticism. || When you have a bedlamite infestation. || Because her big day was all about him. || I renounce the devil and all his works. || Yes, but how hard? || She doesn’t want the rubber room. || She’s not going to take it any more. || Tree house. || Truck life. || Replacing lost fingers with grafted toes. || And for seekers of challenge, I bring sex-toy news.
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The joys of open borders: Looks like another muslim migrant doing what they do.
Today’s words are standard deviation.
No reason.
Racist, pro-crime black woman saying the usual predictable things.
I was going to suggest several months of sleep deprivation and/or permanent hearing damage. But being a kindly soul, I’m open to other ideas.
And yet what caught my eye were the children’s faces.
As the twig is bent – AWFL saying the usual predictable things.
Well, there are those eggs on the bar…
Santayana got one thing right.
That’s not a head you’d want to be trapped inside.
Camerawork of note.
Fabulist pronouns were observed.
“Are you ready to be initiated as a High Priestess, High Priest or High Mage” at the Christian Witches Mystery School.*
Hell is hot, is all I gotta say.
Can confirm. It was nightmare fuel as a kid.
Depends on the circle. Cocytus is frozen.
BUT YOU MUST CHOOSE ONE AS YOUR FOREVER HAIR.
Band name.
Just going to leave this here.
The timer is set for 30 seconds.
Some of those will look particularly ridiculous when one goes bald.
British haircuts, British food. Pick your poison.
As a wee seedling, as you say, I used to watch Batman with my father. I always thought his enthusiasm for the show was about silly father/son bonding. I have to say I am a tad disappointed. Just a tad.
American Mullet: band name or movie title?
Skills.
[ Slides inflated zip-lock freezer bag to WTP. ]
The majesty of the English language. No, really.
No. And I state this with the deepest sincerity. Tar & Feathers. It’s the best solution for giving the others a more constant, less fleeting example of what not to do.
They did ask . . .
Punk band, obviously.
[ Surveys kingdom, slurps small glass of port. ]
This is certain to turn out well.
And just this week I saw two articles about DC police falsifying crime data to make crime rates seem lower than they really are.
Now here’s a Knigga who deserves some props.
Gardening without a license?
If England isn’t dead it’s only because they’re waiting to harvest the organs.
Hair chart: the hair is bad enough, but several of them look like serial killers.
The New Yorker writer who referred to Sydney Sweeney as an “Aryan princess”.
as the meme says, I’m already a fan, you don’t have to convince me…
Lots more here.
Is there any reason not to think of the New Yorker as an enemy of civilization?
Could have fooled me. I’ve heard wounded pigs squeal less.
Each one looks like it’s removeable and replaceable by any of the others. Just like some hellish 70s toy from Mattel or Hasbro.
I may not sleep tonight.
Next post down.
Needed a lot of hair spray, I suppose.
One standard deviation is a feather.
Two standard deviations is a chicken suit.
Three standard deviations is a live chicken….