Oh golly, there’s so much news lately that I can hardly keep up.
Lets have a look around:
– Did you hear about the 80-year-old woman in Washington State who stepped out of the shower at her local gym and there was a GUY standing there, in all his naked male plumage? She knew right away he was a guy, regardless of his preferred pronouns. (You can tell.)
She complained to management. And as a result SHE was advised not to come back to the gym since she was so INTOLERANT. The problem was hers, according to the gym, not his, even though she was a long-time member.
This might not work in this age of so many ding-dong gender identities, but I’m reminded of the age old response when confronted by some guy displaying plumage:
“Wow, I’ve never seen one that SMALL!”
Might work.
– Cabin Season is getting short in southern Wyoming, and my essential role of poking the campfire and counting hummingbirds is coming to an end. This was a good year for rain (no fire ban in my neck of beautiful Carbon County), the mosquitoes disappeared a few weeks early, and there were lots of hummingbirds (I spotted a high of 12 at my feeders in mid August). The flies, however, were horrible. Still are.
We’ve got a couple of those guns for shooting flies with salt – one at home, another at the cabin – but we’ve spotted a design flaw. After a few years, the salt reservoir (notice I’m not calling it a “clip” or a “magazine,” to keep the gun experts off my back) starts to leak, leaving salt all over the place, and you have to keep throwing it over your left shoulder for good luck.
Shooting Boone and Crockett-sized flies with salt is fun (I know a guy who hates guns who nevertheless loves shooting flies), but a healthy swat with a traditional swatter relieves stress and lets the surviving flies know you mean business. I prefer the swatter.
If I could find a military-grade fly swatter, I’d buy one.
– President Hey You Kids, Get Off My Lawn! was angrier and more crotchety than usual in his speech to the nation last week, calling people like us “MAGA people.” (Oh NO! You want to make America Great? Well SHAME ON YOU!) The week before that, our semi president called us “semi fascists.” And he keeps saying we don’t believe in democracy.
(I believe in democracy. You’re the Deep State denizens who told Facebook what they couldn’t say about the president’s nutty son before the election.)
My father used to say, “The empty wagon makes the most noise.”
True.
– The most creative name I’ve been called in recent years was a “degraded specimen,” over, as I recall, reluctance to go hook line and sinker with the COVID vaccine craze. The president once said they were “losing patience” with us. (Hey, I’ve had plenty of vaccines. Just not these latest ones. Ever had a cholera shot, Mr. President? I have! Two, in fact. Hold onto your hat!) And a local columnist said we should be shunned.
You don’t hear so much of this intolerance lately, as the people who hectored and shunned us so vehemently seem to keep getting COVID despite their precious vaccines and swell boosters. And some of them die, putting into question the “milder case” argument.
Meanwhile, those of us who had COVID and got natural immunity seem to be doing much better. (How about that, Bullwinkle?)
So anyway, I think “degraded specimen” takes the cake for bullying intolerance. Sounds kind of Final Solution to me.
– I notice that the “we know better than the voters” people now want to find someone to run against Chuck Gray in the general election. Failing that, they want to change the duties of the secretary of state to keep Gray from having anything to do with elections.
Let me finish with this. If you think you know better than the voters of Wyoming (which didn’t work out too well for Liz Cheney), well, let me paraphrase comedian Jeff Foxworthy:
“Then you may be a RINO!”
