Donald went to bed, and thought, and thought, and thought it over and over and over, and could make nothing of it. The more he thought, the more perplexed he was; and the more he endeavored not to think, the more he thought.
McCain’s Ghost bothered him exceedingly. Every time he resolved within himself, after mature inquiry, that it was all a dream, his mind flew back again, like a strong spring released, to its first position, and presented the same problem to be worked all through, “Was it a dream or not?”
“OMFG, Donald,” his hair said, “you keeping flipping and flopping and rolling over and over. Let me off and I’ll sleep on the credenza.”
“Gay,” the hat said from his stately stand.
“It’s nothing,” Donald muttered. “Nothing at all. Just a flashback maybe or a bad batch of fries.”
He screamed when a hand reached out of the dark and touched his shoulder.
It was a strange figure–a young man, in a jumpsuit. Donald realized with a start that it was McCain, a McCain he had never known. Young McCain was squinting as if into the sun and had a head with short-cropped hair. He smiled at Donald and put on aviator sunglasses, mirrored and impenetrable. As Donald stared in horror the figure flickered–stuttered almost–winking in and out; and he was as insubstantial as fake news.
“Is it going to be all night with this Scooby Doo shit?” the hat asked.
Donald cried out for the Secret Service but none came.
“Are you the Spirit whose coming was foretold to me?” asked Donald.
“I am,” Young McCain said. The voice was soft and gentle.
“Who, and what are you?” the hair demanded.
“I am the Ghost of Warboners Past.”
“Long Past?” inquired the hat. “Like World War II?”
The Spirit did not turn to answer him. “No. Donald’s past.”
Perhaps, Donald could not have told anybody why, if anybody could have asked him; but he had a special desire to see the Spirit in his cap; and begged him to be covered.
“What?” exclaimed the Ghost, “Is it not enough that you are one of those whose passions made this cap, you want me to wear it low upon my brow?”
“Don’t have a ghost put me on, Donald,” the hat said, fear in his voice.
“What about the hair? You want to wear my hair?” Donald asked.
“Neither!” the Spirit thundered. “I don’t want to wear either your hat or your hair.”
“Then what business do you have here?” Donald asked.
“Your reclamation. Take heed!”
It put out its strong hand as it spoke, and clasped him gently by the arm.
“Rise! and walk with me!”
It would have been in vain for Donald to plead that the weather and the hour were not adapted to pedestrian purposes; that bed was warm, and the thermometer a long way below freezing; that he was clad but lightly in his slippers, dressing-gown. The grasp, though gentle as a hooker’s hand, was not to be resisted. He rose: but finding that the Spirit made towards the window, clapped on his hat and hair in supplication.
“I am a mortal,” Donald remonstrated, “and liable to fall.”
“Bear but a touch of my hand there,” said McCain, laying it upon his heart, “and you shall be upheld in more than this!” As the words were spoken, they passed through the wall, and stood upon a busy New York City sidewalk.
“What in the mother of fuck?” the hat shouted.
“Did we just teleport?” the hair asked. “I think we just teleported!”
“Good Heaven!” said Donald, clasping his hands together, as he looked about him. Men in hats and women in dresses passed them on the sidewalk unaware of them. “I was bred in this place. I was a boy here!”
“Look at how the people are dressed,” said the hair. “Look at the stores and billboards that line the streets. Look at the cars.”
“Time travel,” the hat said. “I can finally kill Billy Ray Cyrus before he is born.”
“Your lip is trembling,” said the Ghost to Donald. “And what is that upon your cheek?”
Donald muttered.
“Wait, are you crying, Donald?” the hair asked gently.
“It’s just so beautiful,” Donald whispered. “So many white people. White people everywhere. And everyone is so skinny.”
“Do you recollect the way?” inquired the Spirit. “Do not be bothered by those around us. We appear as naught to them.”
“Remember it?” cried Donald with fervour; “I could walk it blindfolded.”
Donald took off a wattling run, the hat and hair holding on. The ghostly figure of McCain flew beside them, his spectral feet a few inches above the cold sidewalk.
Donald stopped before the window of a huge toy store and pressed his face before the glass. Dolls and BB guns and wind-up tanks and sparking robots sat inside the track of an elaborate toy train that chugged along. Planes and cars and cowboys and noble knights astride fine steeds hung from the ceiling by fishing wire, and lights flashed and bells rang.
“I loved this window,” Donald said. “So many things, all the things, such classy toys.”
“This was your last Christmas, wasn’t it?” McCain’s Ghost asked.
“The last good one,” Donald said. “The next year I was sent off to military school. I spent Christmas there from then on.”
“Military school,” the young figure of McCain said. “A chance to get your first warboner, a proper one. A chance you wasted.”
“Your last good Christmas,” the hair said, rubbing Donald’s head in sympathy. “Did you at least get what you wanted?”
“No. Father refused to buy me the store,” Donald said mournfully. “I was going to burn it down for the insurance money.”
“Away,” said the Spirit. “We have more Christmases to visit!”
A wind picked up and began to swirl around them, and somehow made it seem as if the city was swirling around them.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” said the hat. And then the scene settled and he merely groaned.
They were now on the lawn of a college campus quad, students arm-in-arm going to and fro.
“WEST PHILADELPHIA, 1967” floated in the air before the in neat white block letters.
“Anyone else seeing words floating in the air?” the hair asked right as they began to fade away.
“Wharton,” Donald said hoarsely. “1967? 1967?”
“Yes,” said the Spirit. He grabbed Donald’s arm and walked through a nearby wall. When the four of them stepped out of the grey darkness of passage they were in a room full of young people, navy blazers and ascots all around, cable-knit sweaters and Brylcreem, pretty girls in knee-length skirts and sweater sets. Frankie Valli crooned on the record player.
“1967?” the hat asked. “Where are the hot hippie girls? Where is the free love? This looks like fucking Happy Days.”
An older man, wearing a corduroy jacket over a turtleneck and smoking a pipe turned to the ghostly party. “There are no ‘hippies’ at the Wharton School of Business, you degenerate,” he said, addressing the hat.
“Who the hell are you?” the hat asked the man with the pipe.
“None of your business, you sad little id projection,” the man said and did exhale a cloud of fragrant smoke. He took two steps away and faded into the party crowd.
“Who the hell was that?” the hat asked the Spirit.
“He is the Spirit of Exposition, another Ghost who walks this night. Pay his irritation no heed,” said Young McCain.
“I remember this,” Donald said, growing excited. “I remember this.”
“Yes,” Young McCain said, his eyes becoming pools of oily blackness, “Your lowest point.”
Donald walked away, ignoring the Ghost, and slipped insubstantially through the throng of party-goers.
“This was the night!” Donald said excitedly. He walked through a shut bedroom door taking the hat and hair with him.
Three young men were in the bedroom, leaning over a nightstand they had pulled away from the wall.
“Try it,” one of them said.
“You’ll like it,” another said.
Young Donald Trump, all of 21-years-old said, “I don’t know. I don’t like drugs very much. Heck, I don’t even drink.”
“This isn’t like grass,” the tall one said. “It doesn’t make your dick limp and turn you in a commie. This stuff is fantastic.” He handed Donald the rolled up 20 dollar bill.
“DONALD!” said the hair in a shocked voice.
“This was just a great Christmas. Just tremendous,” Old Donald said.
Young McCain joined them in the bedroom and said, gasping, “This is not what we are here to see.”
“Are you out of breath?” the hat asked. “You’re a Ghost. That doesn’t make any sense.”
Young Donald leaned down and hoovered a fat line of the cocaine and Old Donald sighed.
“They sold me an eightball to take home,” Old Donald reminisced. “I didn’t sleep for maybe four days.”
The ghostly McCain stepped forward and plucked a piece of paper out of Young Donald’s cardigan. “This is what you are here to see,” he said, holding up to the other three travelers. It was a draft deferment form, stamped 1-Y.
Old Donald shrugged. “I had bone spurs,” he said and shrugged.
“You threw away your chance for glory!” the shade said. “Your chance for honor!”
“Your chance you get your balls shot off,” the hat said mockingly.
“It was a stupid, pointless war,” Old Donald said.
“COWARD!” the Spirit of Warboners Past thundered.
He stepped forward and tried to run his finger on the cocaine-dusted mirror. “Aw, nothing? Not even a little bump?” he asked.
Young Donald was writhing around, dancing to music only he seemed to hear.
“How do you feel, Donny?” one of his friends asked.
Young Donald grinned beatifically. “I feel amazing, like I could beat-up Godzilla and fuck King Kong!”
“YEAH!” the hat cheered.
“OK,” said the shade of McCain. “Fuck it.” He waved his arms in a complicated pattern.
Donald found himself back in The First Bedroom, the lingering scent of cigarettes and stale beer in the air. He was conscious of being exhausted, and overcome by an irresistible drowsiness. He gave the hat a parting squeeze, a placed his hair back on the credenza; and had barely time to reel to bed, before he sank into a heavy sleep.
“Yes,” Young McCain said, his eyes becoming pools of oily blackness
“Becoming”?
Heavy,
Too many to cope with but these two are special:
“Time travel,” the hat said. “I can finally kill Billy Ray Cyrus before he is born.”
“No. Father refused to buy me the store,” Donald said mournfully. “I was going to burn it down for the insurance money.”
Seconded on ““Time travel,” the hat said. “I can finally kill Billy Ray Cyrus before he is born.””
Also: “None of your business, you sad little id projection,”
Another great line.
Not to be overlooked:
“Is it going to be all night with this Scooby Doo shit?” the hat asked.
If the hat is my fave, does that make me a bad person?
I love that Donald is in character, but hat and hair aren’t.
No way. The Hat is spectacular and my fave as well. Thanks to CPRM I always hear it in the proper voice, too.
Well, maybe you’re a bad person, too. Ever think of that?
A bad person with exquisite taste.
I’m more a Hair man, myself. And the voice sells it too.
THIS ISN’T WEDNESDAY
IT’S NOT WEDNESDAY
I have bad news for you.
The grasp, though gentle as a hooker’s hand, was not to be resisted.
Master of simile, that’s our SugarFree.
The arson gag is the best! Most Classy! arson plan!
I knew it!!! I knew it was Military school that fucked up his head.
I was surprised that McCain plays the ghost of War Boner past. Great read.
..and War Boner Present, and War Boner Somewhere in Between…
I was expecting 3 different ghost after the bedroom scene in the last installment.
*jots note for name of warship in future military sci-fi novel: “Warboner”*
The GSS Warboner pulled into orbit around Tau Alpha Gamma IV…
Not verbose enough for a Culture warship.
I was thinking of exactly that. Iain Banks does have great names for his ships (and people).
“None of your business, you sad little id projection,” the man said and did exhale a cloud of fragrant smoke. He took two steps away and faded into the party crowd.
“Who the hell was that?” the hat asked the Spirit.
“He is the Spirit of Exposition, another Ghost who walks this night. Pay his irritation no heed,” said Young McCain.”
That’s deep, right there. We’re talking waist deep.
*looks up “exposition”*
Ah! Now I get it. Yes, that was deep. Excellent!
GENIUS!
It really is genius. It just keeps getting better and better. I honestly can’t wait for the next installment.
OT – Today in selfless public servant of the people:
Kill yourself!
Hmm, I thought that kind of language was not permitted on twitter.
Parker apparently gets heated about his cars — he was forced to enroll in an anger-management course in 2005 after he slugged a traffic cop.
The pugilistic pol was also found guilty of criminal mischief in 2010 after he socked a Post lensman who was staking out his house.
and he’s not in jail right now b/c laws are for little people.
To be fair, this is just normal behavior in New York.
I was under the impression that the crime of assaulting a cop was punishable by immediate execution.
I guess the rules are a bit different for our overlords.
I believe it is, in fact, a felony. Well, for you and me.
Haven’t finished yet, but this one made me audibly chortle:
…and:
And this was a great visual:
I’d keep listing great lines but I’d basically have to copypasta the whole damn thing. Another excellent installment, SF. This is the best Christmas EVER!
he was as insubstantial as fake news…
“So many white people. White people everywhere. And everyone is so skinny.”
Much happy. So greatness.
Love it.
THIS ISN’T WEDNESDAY
IT’S NOT WEDNESDAY
What time does Wapner come on?
Four minutes. Four minutes to Wapner.
So, is this trolling or just good marketing?
Yes.
Cue the outrage in 3…2…
chikfila should have done it.
Their marketing department is kicking themselves for not thinking of it.
If Chik-Fil-A did it, it would obviously be hate speech.
LGBT chickens hardest hit.
Mocking people with mental issues isn’t very Christian.
but it makes me want to buy a chicken sandwhich on sunday.
Has to be trolling. Beautiful, if so.
a) are you allowed to bring food from the concourse onto a flight? I have never thought to ask this.
If yes, then
b) why, and
c) would anyone complain if airport cops were summoned to remove the offender?
Yes you are. Because it’s gone through the rigorous screening of the TSA, and is completely safe. Same as the six packs of beer or bottles of wine you buy in the concourse are much safer then ones you would bring from home. Quite a few of the restaurants in our airport have a whole grab and go section.
Absolutely, you are allowed to bring food onto flights. As meal service has declined on flights, its gotten more common.
I’ve stuffed food in my carry-on before. I hadn’t thought of just walking onto the plane with it.
The last Salsa family flight, everyone had their own Jimmy Johns sandwich to work on.
Not only from the concourse, but outside the secure area too (subject to liquids restrictions). I’ve brought all sorts of outside food (fried chicken dinners, frozen pulled pork BBQ, frozen red dogs, sandwiches, pies).
Waiting for my flight right now with a liter and a half of plum wine. I’d be tempted to open it now but I’ve got to drive home on the other side.
In related news: I’d forgotten how tasty a simple pan-fried chicken thigh is. And easy. And cheap. And healthier than my lunches have been lately.
Thighs are fantastic. I like to slide rosemary and lemon under the skin, and let the grill do all the work.
Now that we are empty-nesters it is remarkable to me how cheaply the wife and I can eat and eat well. When we had teenage boys in the house it cost a fortune to keep us in food.
https://www.thetruthaboutguns.com/2018/12/john-boch/oops-new-jerseys-10-round-magazine-limit-applies-to-off-duty-cops-too/
HAHAHAHA assholes.
More seriously though, I’m sure they will get this little oversight fixed in a jiffy. We cant br putting the lives of the king’s men in danger.
I am guessing that the chances of any cop being prosecuted under this law is zero.
Too many words, Suthen.
I am guessing that the chances of any cop being prosecuted
under this lawis zero.To be fair, there is a point in there.
While you may be wondering why ordinary citizens deprived of high-capacity magazines in their homes don’t have their lives endangered, but a cops deprived of high-capacity magazines in their homes do have their lives endangered, consider the demonstrated lack of gun handling and shooting accuracy by cops. We can expect a mere prole to hit a man-sized target across the room multiple times with fewer than ten rounds. A cop, on the other hand . . . .
a cop would mag dump and massacre his neighbors.
That’s a gem
Gun grabber arguments are lies. Every single one of them. This law has nothing to do with safety or need. It is about disarming the public so that they cannot defend themselves against the state.
very true. i’m watching the news on UBIs to see if this study’s results have gained any traction: https://health.ucdavis.edu/publish/news/newsroom/13362
Study does not find population-level changes in firearm homicide or suicide rates in California 10 years after comprehensive background check and violent misdemeanor policies enacted
nope. grabbers still parroting the same b.s.
I know some ex-cops. They are allowed to conceal carry here in NJ, but only with FMJs – no hollow-points like on-duty cops because of that stupid law. So it makes sense they have to obey this one too.
If was allowed to carry but limited to 10-rounds, I would probably go single-stack or compact pistol for easy concealment. Why try to conceal a bigger pistol with a block in the magazine?
I’ve read that these laws are driving and uptick in the sales of compact, concealable pistols.
that’s been a hot segment of the gun market for years now. some producers are getting a little sloppy in the mad rush to bring their products to market and are now having to issue recalls to prevent drop-fire.
I hate hate hate special carveouts in legislation that exempts cops.
Exempting cops in legislation that restricts the freedom of everyone else is the state flipping a giant middle finger straight in my face.
Some pigs are indeed more equal than others.
Lachowski nails it.
I thought FMJ had a tendency to go through things (armor, torsos, walls) but hollowpoint made a big entry hole and then mushroomed or shattered.
My CCW instructor said the cops around here get mad if they find you carrying FMJ.
Right.
Some places restrict non-police people from using hollow points because their too lethal for “ordinary” people to use.
This of course ignores the actual physics that make FMJs far more dangerous to anyone down range from the intended target.
Just another stupid law.
The NJ State Legislature is immune to that kind of logic.
Why don’t they go for EFMJs?
*sigh*
Please don’t request changes that you don’t understand the ramifications for.
Don’t do changes for people who don’t realize they’re impacting other groups.
/faceplam
Wrong. Do it and tell them you told them so.*
*mexican sharpshooter is not responsible for you taking his advice.
If the person asking for the change is high enough up the ladder, I will. I’ll also make sure everything is documented, especially my warnings.
This was someone at a team level making a decision that impacted (at least) three other teams. Thankfully it’s not a huge impact, it’s just an annoying one that I’ll be rolling back.
Arizona governor taps Martha McSally to fill Senate seat once held by McCain
Fuck off, Cindy McCain.
according to two people familiar with the conversation, who spoke on the condition of anonymity to describe a private discussion
Fuck these people. If its private, keep your yap shut. If its not, put your name behind what you say.
Bend the knee, to Caesar the God!
Fuck off, Cindy McCain.
If she’s smart, thats exactly what she said to Cindy. Not that she’s smart.
I must have missed when anyone elected Cindy McCain to a fuckin’ thing.
Well, John was just a puppet with the hand of his rich wife stuck up his ass.
You mean like McCain respected the legacy of Barry Goldwater???
Laverne passed. Loved that show as a kid.
Penny Marshall?
yep
“Laverne passed”
She sure did. I had no idea she was trans.
Lenny and Squiggy might have found out if they tried to voh-dee-oh-doh with her.
Didn’t that show always tease the viewers that Laverne was doing guys all over Milwaukee while Shirley was the “good girl?”
Trump agrees to shut down his charity amid allegations he used it for personal and political benefit
Fuck off, Barbara Underwood
One set of rules for everyone?
So I can expect to see her pursuing the Clinton Foundation as well?
No? Then fuck off, Barbara Underwood.
This. If this were the beginning of going after all the grifters and influence peddlers, I’d have no problem whatsoever with it. It’s not. It’s just #RESIST.
This is same thing they do with all the money they shake down from Big Oil and Big Bank. And nothing else happens.
Oh, and the “charities” that inevitably win are driven by leftist ideology. Surprising, I know.
More proof that the government isn’t so much a gang of thieves as an extortion racket.
those “charities” max out their donations to Underwood and her cronies.
WHY NO GIVE TO CASCADIAN FREEDOM FUND????
does anyone here know somebody that believes that shit? talk about living in fantasy land.
Yes. A lot of people believe this shit.
For the second day in a row, there are too many great lines to pick just one.
Just like Q’s brunette selection last week.
“No. Father refused to buy me the store,” Donald said mournfully. “I was going to burn it down for the insurance money.”
BRAVO
Looks like Trump may back down on the wall, and is upping the welfare given to Mexico and Central America.
If Trump wants to give up the one reason he got elected, and the one reason his supporters might turn out to re-elect him, then this is the way to do it.
cool link bro.
https://www.apnews.com/6c1af80fb290472c89fb930e223505af
Having his administration re-write a law through executive agency fiat isn’t going to set too well with his supporters either.
That also sets a nasty precedent. If the executive branch can now call things that aren’t machine guns machine guns, it won’t take much imagination for president Warren to expand the definition further.
how would the leftists on SCOTUS rule on something like this? would they hand him a principled defeat or would their gun grabbing mania drive their opinions and give him a win?
I dont think SCOTUS is taking gun cases anymore.
Roberts having a stroke during Trump’s term wouldn’t be a bad thing.
before the court in January is this one
http://www.scotusblog.com/case-files/cases/new-york-state-rifle-pistol-association-inc-v-city-of-new-york-new-york/
The new border funding offer from Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.) calls on Congress to pass a $1.6 billion homeland security spending bill that was crafted earlier this year in a bipartisan Senate compromise.
Under the offer, Congress would also reprogram $1 billion in unspent funds that Trump could use on his immigration policies. Sen. Shelley Moore Capito (R-W.Va.), who oversees the panel in charge of homeland security funding, said the reprogrammed money would not be able to be used for a physical wall but could be spent on other border security measures.
Dems said nope, shut it down.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/economy/white-house-signals-its-backing-down-in-shutdown-dispute-will-find-other-ways-to-fund-border-wall/2018/12/18/159994dc-02d9-11e9-9122-82e98f91ee6f_story.html?utm_term=.0feaadccda96