for Heroic Mulatto
The drive had been long to do just by herself, stopping often for energy drinks, junk food, and ice, so Tabitha sat for a moment in the driveway. Her grandmother’s squat white house looked the same as when she had dropped her off six months earlier. Maybe a little more rundown. Grandma was getting old and she might not be able to live alone for much longer. She preferred to be called Abuela. Tabitha would have to remember.
Her Abuela walked down the driveway before Tabitha even finished getting out, her gray-streaked bun falling apart, waddling, excited.
“You have it, you have it?” she asked Tabitha excitedly.
“Yes, Gra- Abuela,” Tabitha said. “It wasn’t easy.”
“Nothing worthwhile is, child,” Abuela said in her ear as she hugged Tabitha. “And the father?”
“Harvested, as you instructed.”
“We must get started,” Abuela said and began coughing. She turned back to the house and waved her granddaughter along with impatient motions.
“Yes, of course.” Tabitha pulled the cooler out of the back of her Subaru and followed her into the house.
—
Abuela held the fetus under the bright lights of her kitchen island and inspected it through the tough biohazard plastic.
“It is perfect, Tabitha,” Abuela whispered. “I knew he would bring a powerful spirit to your offspring. How did you take it from your womb?”
“Mifepristone-induced miscarriage. I expelled it in an emergency room and they bagged it for me so that I could give it a ‘Christian’ burial.”
Abuela giggled. “They were just going to throw it away?” The old woman turned and spat into her sink. “White people know nothing about the world. Let me see the rest.”
Tabitha pulled a Heavy Duty Freezer Ziploc bag out of the cooler and laid it on the kitchen island. Abuela unzipped the bag, spilling out a penis and a set of testicles out on her cutting board. They sat in a a thick pool of red-black blood.
“Mucho,” Abuela said. “You must have had fun with this one!” Her laugh boomed through the kitchen until it dissolved into another coughing fit.
“Are you OK, Abuelita?” Tabitha asked.
“I’m fine,” she said, backing away to spit something black into the garbage disposal.
“Get the sheet pan from under the sink,” the old woman said. “The big one, and the silicone sheet. And set a pot to boiling.”
“Yes, Abuela.”
Abuela manicured the genitals, trimming off the pubic hair and cleaning under the loose foreskin. Abuela tsked. “His prepucio is so loose. He has been with many women.” She picked the genitals up with a pair of tongs and ran them under cold water in the sink.
“How did you take these, Tabitha? You did not drug him, yes?”
“No, Grandma. I followed your instructions.”
“Because some things can ruin the meat…”
“I hit him in the temple,” she pointed at the side of her head, “Hit him with one of his free-weights until he was almost dead and then took it with a carpet knife.”
“And he never knew your true name?”
“And I didn’t meet any of his friends and I deleted all his photos from his phone and the cloud.”
“True names have power,” Abuela whispered as she dried the genitals off with a rough towel, cleaned the tongs, and picked the genital clump back up with them.
“Get a big bowl from the buffet and fill it with ice and then water.”
Abuela began dunking the genitals in the boiling water for a few seconds and then pulling them back out. “Solidifies the blood,” she told Tabitha. She inspected them under the bright lights of the kitchen island. “Just a little more,” she said.
Tabitha set the bowl of ice water down and backed away from the boiling penis and testicles. The penis skin was drawn and gray, the testicles knurled like an oak burl. Abuela plunged them into the ice water.
“Now we let them sit until cool,” Abuela said. “Let us look at the kuman.”
Abuela opened the biohazard pouch with a sharp knife and let the fetus slide out. She bent over to smell it and grumbled to herself. She felt along the tiny legs and fingers and arms and toes.
“There must be no imperfection,” she told Tabitha. “Imperfection will keep the soul from re-entering the body or give it a path to escape before we can bind it.”
“Yes, Abuela,” Tabitha said absently.
“No, you must listen. You will have to do this yourself someday, for your daughter.”
“I don’t even know if I am going to have kids,” Tabitha said.
Abuela slapped her, blood and mucus from the fetus smearing across her face.
“You forget that white nonsense!” Abuela said. “You will have a daughter. You will continue our line.”
“Yes, Abuela,” Tabitha said, cleaning her face with a towel.
“For five generations…” Abuela began.
“I know the story,” Tabitha said, pouting.
“Then you will hear it again!”
“Yes, Abuela.”
“Where is the fat? Did you forget the fat?”
“No,” Tabitha said, pulling a bag of skin from the cooler.
“The fat of a man who died by violence,” Abuela said reverently. She kneaded it through the plastic until she smiled.
“My great-great-great-Abuela came from far, far away, the seawife of a trader,” Abuela said, turning the skin under the light to inspect it. “She slit his throat when they docked and escaped to our village. She brought wisdom with her and made a kuman thong so that she would prosper in her new home. And when the time came, she taught her daughter to make the kuman thong. And her daughter and her daughter. And when my time came, I was taught to make my kuman.” Abuela pointed at the golden lump on its shrine, a bowl of milk and a bowl of meat set before it.
She poured out the piece of human skin out into the sink and washed it under cold water, and rubbed it dry vigorously with a towel.
“It would have been better to have more but this should render enough. Under the sink, child, get a medium saucepan.”
Abuela plopped down the skin on her cutting board and took up a cleaver. “The kuman see for you.” CHOP. “They see both opportunities and enemies.“ CHOP. “And from thousands of miles away.” CHOP. “They bring luck and prosperity.” CHOP. “Long life and protection.” CHOP CHOP CHOP. Abuela used the cleaver to sweep the chunks of skin into the saucepot.
“Now barely cover the skin with cold water and put it over medium heat,” she said. Tabitha nodded.
“Your mother refused to make a kuman to protect her. She spent too long away from home. Too much time in the north. And you have lived your whole life with the consequences.”
“Mom died in a car accident,” Tabitha said.
“No, she had been cursed!” Abuela said, washing the fetus gently. “The kuman thong told me the truth of her death.”
Abuela used kitchen shears to nip off the excess umbilical cord and wrapped the fetus in a kitchen towel.
“My kuman is powerful,” Abuela said. “It has done what he could to keep you safe and lucky. But you must have one of your own before…”
“Before what, Abuela?”
The old woman waved the question away like a gnat.
“We must start the fire,” she said. Tabitha followed her into the backyard.
“Set the kuman here,” Abuela said, pointing at a slab of stone baking in the summer sun. “It will dry in the heat until we are ready.”
Abuela set a colander upside down over the fetus. “To keep away birds sent by other mæ̀md,” she said and spat into her hand and smeared saliva across the bright metal base facing the sky.
Abuela waddled over to the brick grill that had been stuffed with sticks and twigs and twists of dried herbs. “You must light it yourself,” she told Tabitha, handing her a wooden match. “Intention is everything.”
Tabitha swallowed hard and struck the match on the brick of the grill. She watched it flare and begin to burn down, a couple of long seconds stretching like taffy.
“Now, child!”
Tabitha dropped the match into the sticks and they flared to life.
—
Abuela tilted the saucepan and skimmed off the scum of blood and skin flakes that had formed on the surface with a crude wooden spoon and then stirred it the entire pot.
“It will be enough,” she muttered to herself.
“Look,” she said to Tabitha. “See how the fat is rendering out? Once the water has boiled away we will filter out all the impurities.”
Tabitha looked into the saucepot, gagged, and staggered back from the stove.
“Now?” Abuela asked, “Now you are delicate?”
“I had the powder you gave me to get through the other parts,” Tabitha managed.
“It made you strong, yes? Powerful and unfeeling?”
“Yes. Are you going to teach me to make that as well?” Tabitha asked.
“What make? It was cocaine.”
“Grandma! You gave me cocaine?”
The old woman cackled and shook her head. “Oh, my little one.”
—
Abuela went out and checked the fire. She nodded to herself a few times and beckoned Tabitha outside.
“Check the kuman,” Abuela said, as she began to use a stick to stir the fire. Tabitha lifted up the colander. The fetus was wrinkled from the heat and low humidity, the limbs drawn in, the unopened eyes retreating in the eggshell skull.
Abuela shuffled over and peered over her shoulder. “It is time,” she said. “Fetch the genitales and tongs.”
As Tabitha went inside, Abuela pulled the scrap of ancient goat hide from her pocket. The magic words were in phonetic Spanish, written in her ancestor’s hand. Their literal meaning was lost to time.
“Grandma?” Tabitha asked.
Drawn up and grey, the penis and testicles were cooked and stiff. “Yes, they will have to do. Give them to me and bring the kuman.”
Abuela set the grey meat down on the side of the grill.
Tabitha walked up beside her, the fetus held in another pair of tongs.
“You must do everything from now on, girl. And intend to do it. Intend. It is your will that works the magic. To fail now would be a catastrophe for both of us. An unbound kuman could eat the world.”
“Yes, Abuela,” she said.
“On the grill, girl,” Abuela urged.
The fetus began to sizzle as it hit the hot metal, spitting and popping.
“Now you must read this, over and over, until the kuman is black. This summons and binds.” Abuela handed Tabitha the goatskin. “Say the words as written. As written,” she hissed.
Tabitha began to sound out the words. There were hard on her throat, like hot smoke, like a sickness she was coughing out.
“Keep going,” Abuela said, her eyes hot and streaming tears from the fire, clutching at her chest. Tabitha kept reading and flipped the fetus over, noting the deep black grill marks on the tiny body.
“¡La carne del padre!” Abuela called. She tossed the genitals underhand onto the fire and watched as the skin began to sizzle.
“Blacken it evenly, child,” she said as Tabitha continued to mutter the ancient words. Her tongue began to swell, the goat hide blurring under the smoke and tears.
The penis and scrotum finally burst into flames.
“Pick up the kuman and pass it through the flames, back and forth, but do not let it catch fire itself,” Abuela said. Tabitha did as she was told, numbly, the horror of what she was doing simply shutting off her mind. The fetus had drawn into itself as it cooked, the arms and legs mere nubs, the tiny penis shriveled away, the skin of the head pulled against the skull.
“That is enough,” Abuela said and Tabitha stopped chanting. “Now, now, pull it off the grill.”
Abuela stacked four fireplace bricks on the grill and pointed. “Put it there, the heat will finish drying it.”
“Is that it?” Tabitha asked numbly. “Is it done?”
“The spirit is bound,” Abuela answered. “If it wasn’t, we would both be dead.”
“But is it done?” Tabitha said, her voice climbing register.
“No, we have more work.”
—
Abuela left Tabitha to tend the drying kuman. She stood in her kitchen, watching the girl on the patio, shaking her head to herself. She is so weak, she thought. She should have lived in poverty to make her tough, like bull leather. Close, she is so close. A sudden wave of pain ran down her spine and she held onto the table to keep from falling. The money was taken care of, like the insurance on the house. Hold on, she told herself. She is so close.
—
“Now the fat of a man who died by violence,” Abuela said. The kuman was cooling on a crude, stained clay plate. It was tiny now, no bigger than a peanut shell, and carbon black.
They had spent almost an hour fishing crispy pieces of skin out of the rendering pot and then straining out the impurities through successive layers of cheesecloth. The result was barely half an ounce of grayish fat cooled to room temperature in a small shot glass.
“Enough, enough,” Abuela clucked.
She handed Tabitha a small paintbrush with soft bristles. “Paint on the fat lightly. You just want enough to seal the kuman from moisture.”
Tabitha gagged again and dipped the brush in the shot glass.
“Get every part,” Abuela said.
“I can barely look at it,” Tabitha said.
“What’s done is done and what remains to do you must finish,” Abuela said. “This is our past and your future.” Abuela turned and left the kitchen. As Tabitha worked she could hear the old woman going through the rooms of the house, the occasional crash, the occasional curse wandering into the kitchen.
—
“And now the lacquer,” Abuela said. She watched Tabitha’s wet eyes as she painted the roasted fetus in a thick layer of shiny black shellac. The old woman grumbled and coughed the entire time but did not interrupt.
When the lacquer was dry, Abuela brought out the package of gold leaf. She showed Tabitha how to apply the insubstantial squares and then left her to it.
—
It was near dark when Tabitha finished, a little gold lump the result of all her effort and sacrifice.
Abuela hovered her shaking hand over it. “I can feel its power, child.”
Tabitha looked up at her with red, tired eyes and nodded. Abuela kissed her face. A rare thing. The old woman was not much for physical affection.
“Wait, I have something for you,” she said, her breath sharp with the herbs she had been chewing since the grillwork had finished.
Tabitha watched her grandmother walk into the dark confines of the house. She pulled up her shirt and smelled it. Roasted human meat. The unctuousness of rich fat. She decided to just throw these clothes away rather than try to clean them.
Abuela came into the kitchen, grinning. She had lost so much weight since she and Tabitha had taken their trip, she could see the old woman’s skull.
“Here,” Abuela said, handing her a black lacquered box worked with symbols in red and gold. She opened the lid and showed Tabitha the lining of red silk. “It is for the kuman thong until you find a place of honor in your house.”
Tabitha forced a smile on her face. She picked up the golden boy and placed him carefully into his box.
“How do you feel?” she asked Tabitha.
“Hungry, I guess. For a while there I never thought I’d want to eat again.”
“It is time to eat then,” Abuela said. “Go.”
“Where do you want to go?” Tabitha asked.
“I don’t want anything,” Abuela said.
“I’ll bring you something back anyway.”
“No, just go, you cannot stay the night. I have preparations to make.”
Tabitha sat at the kitchen island, hungry, tired, stunned.
“Go?” she said in a little girl’s voice.
“Two kuman thong cannot stay in the same house,” Abuela said.
“You never told me that…”
“Go!” the old woman roared.
Tabitha stood so abruptly, her stool fell over with an explosive bang.
“There is a bag by the door,” Abuela said. “There is money in it. Find a hotel. Drive in the morning. But take the bag. It has all the things our ancestor brought with her or made for the ritual. Store it away for your own child.”
Tabitha lurched for the front door, the box clutched to her chest. Crying now, blubbering, she grabbed the woven bag and was out on the driveway as night fell. She looked back at the open door but her grandmother had not followed her. It was just a black rectangle, the foul air in the house blowing out. The fresh air made her realize just how much the house stank, meat and blood and a sour smell she could almost place.
She got in her Crosstrek, setting the woven bag on the passenger seat and the little kuman box in a depression in the dash. I’ll throw it out the window, she thought. It can rot in the middle of nowhere, like that crazy old woman. Tabitha started her car and backed out onto the dark access road.
She pulled the box off the dashboard after she drove a couple of minutes.
“I’ll never have children!” she said to the box. “I’ll never put my daughter through this madness.”
On the flat road, she saw her Grandmother’s house explode, throwing light in her eyes with the rear-view mirror, an orange ball rising in the total night.
The End
Hoe. Lee. Fuck.
Wi Too Lo?
Sum Ting Wong
Good Lord.
WTF, I mean WTF was that?
WTF, I mean WTF was that?
H. P. Lovecraft called, he said you ought to tone it down.
^This.
Kuman thongs are a real thing. That makes it even more horrific than any Old One.
I…I…I…need a
drinksomething stronger than a drink.Have a bump of Abuela’s coke…
…
? ?
Amusing
Man, you ain’t foolin’ me. I’ve been to Oregon. They are at least slightly better than this depiction. They are all driving Subarus and there’s a bunch of half dead dudes who’ve cut off their dicks, so maybe you’re right.
Exactly what kind of library employs SF?
Glibertarian Free Library.
The Library of Babel?
Well, I wasn’t expecting that…
So tame.
So, I hear Biden’s going to attach 800% higher penalties to anyone caught with menthol cigarettes, as opposed to plain cigs. It’s a bold move, but I feel like it didn’t work out last time he did similar. If you don’t vote for him you’re not….
The President Puddin’ Cup Address to Congress Drinking Game:
Take a sip if Biden talks about Trump.
Take a shot if Biden talks about the Capitol riot.
Take a sip if Biden talks about the economy.
Take a sip if Biden tries to come up with a nickname for Trump that’s like Trump’s nickname for him (Sleepy Joe.)
Take a sip if Biden mispronounces a word.
Take a shot if Biden stumbles over his words and you have no idea what he’s saying.
Take a sip if Biden talks about the Johnson & Johnson vaccine or AstraZeneca and blood clot issues.
Take a shot if Biden shares a web address or phone number that’s wrong.
Take a sip if Biden talks about his dogs.
Take a shot if Biden refers to himself as Mr. Jill Biden.
Take a sip if Biden talks about wearing masks.
Take a shot if Biden takes credit for Americans getting vaccinated.
Take a sip if Bernie doesn’t clap or stand up at any point, or if he looks bored.
Take a shot if Bernie does something that quickly turns into a meme.
Take a shot if Pelosi does something that quickly turns into a meme.
Take a shot if Harris does something that quickly turns into a meme.
Take a sip if Pelosi isn’t reading anything while sitting behind Biden, since she was known for reading notes during Trump’s speeches.
Take a sip if a Republican refuses to stand up or clap while everyone else is.
Take a shot if someone heckles Biden or yells at him during his speech.
Take a sip if the camera pans to your Congressional representative.
Take a sip if the camera pans to someone and you have no idea who they are.
Take a sip if Biden compares his tax plan to Trump’s.
Take a sip if Biden talks about COVID-19 tests at the border.
—
Tomorrow’s Bloody Marys and Advil are on me!
pass
Yeah, I’m not watching that shit.
I am taking sips, though.
You’re selling alcohol poisoning treatments, aren’t you?
You know you can literally look up “hold music” on YouTube and find more interesting things than a SoTU speech?
I didn’t watch the Speech from the Throne when Trump was President, and he was a professional entertainer and not woke.
Why, then, should I watch this extra-Constitutional piece of monarchism when someone even worse than Trump is doing it?
I could probably sit through a Biden speech. I wouldn’t be happy about it, but I could stomach hatewatching. I couldn’t stand hearing Trump speak.
I don’t like being lied to and tend to get angry at it.
So I don’t hatewatch anything.
I could sit through a Biden speech if they legalized weed first.
I’m doing my little medical transcription and this doctor has it on in the background. LOUDLY. I can barely hear the doc, but I can sure as hell hear Biden and I don’t want to!
CWAA
Yeah, okay.
What if I see snuff film in this?
You’re banging women whose true name you don’t know?
I should not have read this during dinner. And certainly not aloud. I’m never welcome back at Applebee’s.
ROFL!
I looked really good in those jeans and boots, if I may say so myself.
I…I…I…need a drink.
Are you new to the internet?
It was a little stronger than the usual fare.
Reditt + make my coffin is much-much worse.
“Are you new to the internet?”
I have seen goatse (in several forms), and human prolapses, and my coworker used to test video projectors using Tijuana Donkey show videos. I made the first website for a certain upper mid-west state college. I survived the usenet newsgroup wars (thousand yard stare).
This…this…is…something…different.
Not really.
So is this the open discussion about the Biden’s speech?
Go for it, if you’re willing to take one for the team.
Spend spend spend.
Voters bad
Guns evil
CO2 killing our kids.
guns killing our kids
cops killing our kids
Not enough abortions.
?
If you kill the kids before they’re born, none of the other things can kill them.
Either that or they really don’t give a damn about the children.
Men should have their genitals cut off and fetuses should be intentionally miscarried?
Joe Biden is Abuela?
Can you imagine trying to stay on topic?
I don’t understand how it became an American tradition for everyone to be subjected to state propaganda .
I see a quote in the Daily Mail about how Biden called the Jan. 6 episode the worst attack on American democracy since the Civil War.
Well, let’s see, there was that time his own party launched the Ku Klux Klan as a paramilitary auxiliary to stop blacks from exercising their hard-won right to vote during Reconstruction.
There was that time terrorists shot into the House chamber while it was in session –
https://history.house.gov/Oral-History/Events/1954-Shooting/
There was an actual bomb set off in the Capitol in 1971 –
https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/bomb-explodes-in-capitol-building
I imagine I could think of more…
I mean what is an “attack on democracy exactly?” 9/11 and pearl harbor i take it were just regular kinds of attacks.
Unfortunately they just canceled the tornado warning in North Texas so we only had an hour of his speech cut off.
So Biden was more full of wind than a tornado?
I was out in Carrollton playing disc golf when the warning started. Thankfully I was able to GTFO before it got there (I’m sure the tornado was long gone by then, but I really didn’t want to get stuck in a giant field when lightning and hail came)
Shooting in the House Chamber? Bomb in the Capitol? Say, what happened to those perps anyway???
Huh…I assume every day that Congress is in session to be an attack like 9/11 or Pearl Harbor.
“America is an arsenal of democracy for the world.”
Bruh.
Biden is a word that kind of rhymes with “arsenal.”
Well then, our citizens need more than two firearms per person. I mean, we only have some 600 million guns, and most of them aren’t even capable of laying down suppressing fire.
#RepealTheNFANow
I just heard him say we “can’t walk away from” some principle or other.
Does not-walking-away involve dropping bombs on some country?
Flyover Country.
The 1 minute I could stomach he was talking about corporations not paying enough because of “loopholes”. No details on what they are specifically or how they got into our tax-code.
Undoubtedly, Joe voted for many of those “loopholes” to curry favor with special interests. Or Congress is and was so stupid they didn’t see the “loopholes.” Of course, both could be and undoubtedly are correct.
Yup. Loopholes. There’s that other magic buzzword besides infrastructure.
Loopholes exist mainly because democrats carve them out.
Those supposed loopholes are often exceptions written into the Internal Revenue Code. Both parties are waist deep in that abomination.
Subaru Horror Theater in April??
OK
*mixes another bacardi*
*snorts pill*
SugarFree never sleeps.
And now I won’t either.
Reading that I was close to throwing 40 years of abstinence out the window. C’mon, man, some of us are within 2 or 3 standard deviations of normal.
Biden is out doing Trump. For a long time I thought I wouldn’t be around to see the collapse. Now I’m afraid I will be and a lot sooner than I expected.
Economics be damned, full speed ahead. MMT for the win!
Good to see you, old man!
And good to be seen, Spud.
I turned off the TV, I’m gonna read the article again, to cheer myself up.
“ to cheer myself up”
The fact that the Subaru story is less horrible than what Joe &Friends want to do to this country, this society is an indicator of just how hosed we are.
On a happier note, yay! A fourscore sighting!
+1
Hope you are feeling better.
Hi 20×4!
Biden has moved into gun mechanics, of which he is certainly qualified.
“Criminals are not required to pass any kind of gun test , they buy them everywhere and you have to yell fire before a gang shooting” Something like that.
Immigration reform now. “New arrivals should be able to get a gun as easily as voting without ID” or something like that.”
I must say, he is doing well with his reading. I am surprised, shocked.
“Doing well with reading.” Yeah, the whole dementia/alzheimer meme is a bit overdone. Funny, yes, but unlikely convince any open minded folks that DOCTOR Jill and Kamala are changing his diapers and feeding him pudding cups.
That’ll keep you going through the show.
Come on – it’s time to go.
‘…if laughter means dismissal, the time for laughing at the woke is long gone.
‘But there is another kind of laughter that is not so naïve. St. Thomas More famously said of the devil, “the proud spirit cannot endure to be mocked.”…More wrote his Dialogue of Comfort against Tribulation in the Tower of London, where he was awaiting execution….
“…Still I do hope that, no matter how bad things get, I will find wokeness funny. For that is the kind of comedy that expresses not complacency but confidence: a confidence that though the devil may rage, we know who will have the last laugh.”
https://bit.ly/330Mhjv
So…no hump day Zoom?
Old Man posted The Link late in the PM links.
Ah…so its just screening for the crazies then. “host will let you in soon…” oh well.
I’m not there, so I don’t know whether it’s still going.
To think, I was willing to forgo the hockey game and chat with them. I turn my nose! TURN IT! Also, have had quite a few drinks
Fun story. I like that Abuela was deteriorating as her part of the tradition was drawing closed. And the house exploding has a very “Hammer Films” ending to it.
If Scott doesn’t come out of his rebuttal an emerging GOP star, I’ll be shocked. He really is a terrific speaker.
Clean, too
And articulate
Seriously, he may have made the media nervous – they were doing a “his family wasn’t as poor as he claims” piece on him.
I can only presume he doesn’t have significant corruption issues, or they’d have sniffed those out by now. Or am I giving too much credit to the media’s work ethic?
Ah the whole this ‘house nigger is being a bit uppity and tellin stories’ article. God they are racist.
And it failed miserably.
They’ll “find” something. There will be a dossier of questionable origin. The very real collusion between legacy media, and the FBI/CIA will ensure there will be enough doubt and uncertainty sowed in the swing voters. I expect them to go extra hard after the minority ethnic gains that Trump made. Attack attack attack.
And a snappy dresser.
Just kidding. I of course didn’t watch.
Ha ha. Seriously, though, Republican response speeches have generally not come across very well. I’d put his in the top quartile to top fifth.
So, you’re saying you put away a fifth during just one quarter of his rebuttal speech? I’m impressed!
I thought Ted Cruz had the most appropriate response of the night.
He pissed on a copy of the President’s speech?
He fell asleep.
Ah, keeping it family-friendly, good call, I can see why he’s the Senator and I’m not.
Well, that and the whole compulsive masturbating in public thing might put a damper on your chances too,
He needs to work on timing, but yeah, good speaker, good smile, good presence.
The thing is, most of the Democrats and left-leaning people will just tune out, and no one will hear him.
I’m not so naïve as to think outparty rebuttal speeches do a whole lot of convincing. But, I suspect they’re seen as auditions. I’ve seen a number of promising GOP hopefuls crash and burn on them. Scott definitely didn’t. Hence, my earlier suggestion that it’s moved him into the GOP forefront.
So, its weird cause the Repubs are the ones giving the rebuttals that actually are uplifting in nature and balances facts and emotions.
The left is all emotional, all the time,
Agreed, but Scott spoke to my mom, to my ex-wife, to me (as a single dad at some point). It is just weird I guess.
And, I have very little faith that the American public will reject this bullshit. They are being led like horses to water, straight to TMITE and told that everyone else is a crazy insurrectionist. They seem happy with that. Biden has already destroyed a bunch of wonderful things Trump did, like the border, the middle east, and all the other crap in the 500 EO’s. There’s no chance in hell the economy comes back anywhere near what it was just a year and a half ago. Problem is, TMITE will just lie about it all and anyone who notices will be hunted like an animal by the alphabets. We are screwed.
That’s pretty normal actually.
I’ve just read the story – I always do that first.
Now to watch the ad. I can’t even imagine.
This is how you made someting trite and sappy horrific.
Well done.
For funsies I asked neighbors if Jan 6 was a moment of infamy and well…they didn’t want to talk about that.
Much better than Cats. I’ll read it again and again.
“Still a better love story than Twilight.”
Good night, all!
My next ex is named Tabitha. Hits too close to home.
Is there a Zoom tonight or other Glibs sausage-fest?
Posted link to zoom above by GT but I just sat in limbo waiting to gain entrance to their kingdom.
I cant get in either. Im drunk AF, its my day/night off, and Im anxious to argue Keyes v. Austrian e̶c̶o̶s̶y̶s̶t̶e̶m̶s̶ e̶c̶o̶l̶o̶g̶y̶ H̶o̶m̶e̶ ̶E̶c̶o̶n̶o̶m̶i̶c̶s̶ eco-something with someone.
Ill go back to texting unsolicited dick-pics to my ex’s
Good choice
Tell us where to post bail.
Zoomies concluded that this episode was a contender for “Best” along with the dog one.
Two different genre. Doggy was a story spanning many years, with subtle and emotion. This was Hustler gone dark.
Long time lurker. Infrequent commenter. This is the best one.
We do provide free counseling for SugarFree posts. Just submit a request to the site.
Is said counseling gonna be a shill for donations? Because it’s been a while since the last Subaru horror theatre and if there’s more to come then donations will be on the way. Ah fuck, I’ve been lurking here since the beginning, I should’ve been donating way before today.
It will be covered in one of the left’s new family plans, either 12 weeks off to take care of your Abuela or the supplemental cocaine program. It’ll be paid for by the Mexican cartels, either in brand new orphans or loopholes.
Oh, and FOT!
Couldn’t read the post because I want to sleep tonight. Made through 26 minutes of Biden’s speech. He is incredibly boring.
26 minutes more than me. I couldn’t bear to even watch a streaming service on the off chance that I might see even a few seconds of it.
Sugar Free, you are a truly twisted and talented person. I’m proud to know you.
The style of this piece, the passing of ancient family customs from grandmother to granddaughter, the Abuela and other Spanish references—-were it not for the horrifying plot. I’d swear I had been made to read this in 8th grade.
And i still would have liked it better than “The Pearl”,
Cool avatar,
Greetings Fellow Glibs, how’s the day so far?
/sips Covfefe……
‘sup fam
Whats goody yo ?
A fresh picked crop of Weeda, perfect for Wake and bake, how’s the Tall Cans!?
20 minutes into the new day, so far so good…
I don’t sleep so well at night, well, because…seems to be more comfortable sitting up than lying down…
Daytime naps work well though.
Eating any tomatoes, Yusef?
Im starting over, next week, outdoors,
Indoor didnt work well
Good morning, Yu, Tres, 4*20, & Sean! It’s raining here in SW OH, but I don’t care – I’m going swimming this afternoon! 😀
Flooding expected?
Well, our basement’s never gotten THAT bad…yet… 🙁
Good morning! How are you today?
The heaviest I’ve been since october and miserable as a result.
Please don’t be miserable! You also probably walked further than you’ve ever walked within recent memory, so you know you can do it – probably not every day, but however much you can walk in a day is better than nothing!
My weight’s been creeping up, too, and I’m finding it hard to resist break room snacks. We just can’t let it discourage us from continuing to try to improve.
Tuesday Dec 1st 2020 was the last 3.8 mile day recorded on my spreadsheet.
I’ve been tracking this data. (Which is why I know it was october when I was last at this weight – and that’s when I started trying to lose it!)
Can you graph your weight and/or walking distance and put in trend lines?
The trend line is flat for weight. I’m back where I started. At most it went down fifteen pounds.
Walking distance is so spotty due to missed days with a several month gap that trends beyond a week are meaningless.
With any luck, if we’re finally done with ridiculously cold days, your opportunities for walking should become more consistent.
I need to come up with a better variety of healthy snacks for work. I get packets of nuts – both the Planter’s “Nut-rition” and some unsalted almonds – but I think I need something different to help me resist the lure of the cookies just across the hall.
The thought of unsalted almonds made me go bleh.
I’m not a fan of almonds and nuts without salt just don’t sound appealing anyway.
I am so glad my blood pressure levels are good, because I don’t want to argue over my salt intake.
The answer is meat.
These are pretty good too.
Howdy GT! 50 here, no rain yet
::widens out radar map:: You must be just north of this system. Enjoy!
Mornin’
yesterday was my day/night off
Im hammered like a…..new roof ?
Im crunk as fuck
Today, in nature…sand cats.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=y8kTYCex8RU
So the progenitor of housecats?
Thats 7 minutes of my life i just lost
/goes back to shopping for mastiff puppies
I thought the nature bit would have been more popular. No politics, no derp, etc.
*kicks pebble*
I didn’t watch the whole video, but I liked what I saw. Amazing how much it resembles a domesticated cat!
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=liW-kWFiXtQ
?
https://philadelphia.cbslocal.com/2021/04/28/would-be-robber-stabbed-10-times-in-south-philadelphia-playground-police/
Karma.
https://triblive.com/news/pennsylvania/what-alcohol-did-pennsylvanians-drink-most-in-the-past-pandemic-year/
Spoiler: gin didn’t make the top 10. ?
And Captain Morgan was #3. Classless lot.
And Crown Royal Apple? I can’t say I’ve ever had it but I can only imagine.
That is a lot of Hennessy. I suspect My household contributed to some of the Tito’s and Capn Morgan.
Jamison is likely my bad as well.
That’s an odd way to do a ranking, they counted different size bottles of the same booze as individual items, add up the two Jack Daniels and it’s 2nd place over all.
They should sum up the quantity in the bottles and rank by volume of booze sold.
Makes me wonder if Tito’s is the only vodka sold in PA.
We go through a lot of Pinnacle. I was using New Amsterdam 100 proof for a while, but that seemed to lead to some hangovers. Probably because the ratios of mixing…
Tito’s is pretty good but overpriced now that it’s gotten popular. Sobieski and some of the various Russian vodkas are both better and cheaper.
It’s still my top choice when dining out.
Oh it’s solid and you can get it everywhere now, just a little spendy. It’s miles better than Smirnoff which was the fallback for vodka around here for as long as I can remember.
Apropos of nothing – Randy Quaid is a fucking loon! He and his Wife think there is a secret cabal of murderers out to kill celebs like him, grew a Ted K. beard and fled the Country. It should be on Wiki.
And they didn’t adjust for volume, going by units sold when some bottles are over twice as large as others, makes no sense.
Makes perfect sense for someone doing a lazy report.
select all from sales sort by count upc
See Y’all at the turn, Out!
Keep bugs off your glass and the bears off your…..
CONVOY!
+11 long-haired friends of Jesus in a Chartreuse microbus.
I meant to link the remake
Big Daddy in the House!
Back to building a giant mixer!
Like a blender of the Gods!
Yuge I tells ya!
I’m not seeing any jubilant righties mocking Joe so I assume he made it through the big speech without soiling himself or passing out. I’m certain it was filled with stupidity but I was expecting a barrage of gaffes and stumbles and mumbles. Looks like the black dudes rebuttal is getting all the action.
Who?
Joe is your President, the black dude is Tim Scott (R, some state)
Oh and jubilant righties would be Tucker and Sean and Mark and the likes.
You speak as if I know these people.
Nah, just same ole Joe but rejuvenated by stupid talking points, adderall and the cattle prod up his ass. He stumbled but never fell. The leader that we deserve. Mornin’ Hype! Really dug your collaboration with Tonio!
I didn’t watch one second of ol’ gropey Joe but I the rebuttal of the Scott, Tim, One (1) each. He was triumphant. I hope we’ll be seeing a lot more of him and/or a close facsimile thereof.
The way that I always approach these is to watch the commercial first, read the story and then re-watch the commercial. One of your best, SugarFree!
I’ve seen the commercial many times.
I’ll never see it the same way again.
Good morning, Fes!
Mornin’ Red! That poor boy at the gas station…
Abuela got his number!
Sadly enough, no “Prog in the Mist” episode this morning. I’m actually kind of thinking of not going on with that venture because it feels cruel to me. I’ll pipe in with something really egregious from time to time but to make an obviously damaged, trusting and vulnerable person a target of our derision just seems wrong. She’ll never see it but I’ll know that I said it and I can’t live like that.
No owrries, man.
I was worried. I don’t want to be that mocking school-yard taunter that I hated so when I was a boy. Not the actual Bully, the laugh-along type. I was the target and also the joiner-in. It’s an ugly behavior and we have more than enough piling on lately. It is one of those gut check moments. I need to be more aware of my capacity for cruelty. I was the King of “funny” nick-names when I was a teen. Some of them have stuck, to my own shame. Not everything is a laugh and a lark.
Take the high road dude!
Thanks, Tej. Sometimes I wander away from it. I want be the “better man” but my own hubris gets the better of me.
You have a good soul, Festus.
Thanks, Friend! It really is a work in progress, isn’t it?
Always is. Never stops being so.
I’ve lost my way, lately. “The Snark is the Life” isn’t doing it for me so much, anymore. I’ve been connecting a little more with real humans in real settings. Most of the admittedly few that I allow in the bubble are kind and decent people. I need to work on this.
https://babylonbee.com/news/yellowstone-says-they-may-soon-let-buffalo-stop-wearing-masks
Wow.
Good morning, peeps!