Das Trolley Song

Sing it.

Clang, clang, clang went the clapper
Ding an sich went the bell
Heil heil heil went my heart strings
From the moment I saw him I fell

Sieg sieg sieg went mein führer
Blitz blitz blitz went das volk
Ach ach ach went my heart strings
When he touched me it gave me a stroke

He tipped his hat, and took a seat
He said he hoped he hadn’t stepped upon my feet
He asked my name, I held my breath
I couldn’t speak because he scared me half to death

Buzz, buzz, buzz went the buzzer
Plop, plop, plop went the wheels
Stop, stop, stop went my heart strings
As he started to go then I started to know how it feels
When the universe reels


UD thanks her sister for the link.

There’ll always be an England.

Bonnie Greer, chair [of the Bronte Society] from 2011 until she resigned in 2015, once had to call order at a meeting by banging her Jimmy Choo stiletto on the table. Last year, its [annual meeting] descended into chaos as the chair was heckled repeatedly. There have been mass resignations, accusations of “Stasi-like” behaviour and a rapid turnover of figureheads.

Separated at Birth

Margaret Atwood and…

George Washington.

Would You?

Sing it.

Get hired for your womb.
Would you? Would you?
A woman’s just a room.
Would you? Would you?

He wore a three-piece suit.
But you? Well, you just wore your ute.

Who will bear the boss’s fruit?

He’ll ask you with his eyes.
Would you? Would you?
Your egg I’d fertilize.
Would you? Would you?
You ask him with a throb
Is that the way I got this job?
I would. Would you?

Two Little Shits from Kentucky

“He’s kind of a neatnik in his yard,” said Skaggs, the co-developer who built Rivergreen 20 years ago. “You’d see all the little clippings sitting in little plastic bags waiting for pickup every week.” Indeed, on a recent afternoon, a black garbage bag filled with yard clippings still sat in Boucher’s driveway in front of his three-car garage…

Like most everyone else in the Rivergreen development, Goodwin told me, Boucher pays in the ballpark of $150 a month for professional landscaping, while Paul insists on maintaining his yard himself. Goodwin said that part of what nagged at Boucher was the difference in grass length between his lawn and that of his libertarian neighbor’s. “He had his yard sitting at a beautiful two-and-a-half, three inches thick, where Rand cuts it to the nub,” Goodwin said.

… Also at issue, according to Goodwin, is Paul’s tendency to mow outward at the edge of his property, spraying his clippings into Boucher’s yard. Boucher, he said, has asked Paul to instead mow inward when near the boundary line, and even sought help from the Rivergreen Homeowners Association but has gotten no relief.

Goodwin recalled picking up Boucher, a devout Catholic, at his home after church one Sunday afternoon several years ago. Boucher had confronted Paul about his yard-maintenance practices a few minutes before Goodwin’s arrival, to no avail, and Goodwin saw Boucher grow agitated as they both watched Paul blow grass onto his lawn. “I’ve asked him and I’ve asked him and I’ve asked him,” Goodwin recalls Boucher fuming. “How long can you sit there taking someone plucking a hair out of your nose?” Goodwin asked. “How long could you take that before losing your temper?”

… But across Bowling Green, sympathy for either man appears to be in short supply. Goodwin described them as “two little shits” who have brought embarrassment upon the town.



Two little shits from Ken-tucky
Gated and forced to be neighborly
Toxic with masculinity
Two little shits are we!

Everything is about our lawn! (chuckle)

Fighting about where our border’s drawn! (chuckle)

Mow right, or you will be set upon! (chuckle)

Two little shits are we!
One little shit who, grasses snipping
Blows ‘cross the line offensive clippings
Must undergo relentless whipping —
Two little shits are we
Two little shits are we!


Navy Admits Its Aircraft Drew Lewd Images in Sky

First drug and sex addict Carmen Puliafito, and then sexual harassment and retaliation creep Rohit Varma as Deans of the USC Med School: How, asks the USC leadership, do we follow two acts like that?

A well-placed source tells UD that the next dean of the University of Southern California medical school will be Harvey Weinstein.

The only possible…


“The jury found 62-year old Clarence Scranage, Jr., guilty on all counts. [He was described as] a one-man opioid epidemic.”

I know you’ve been waiting for an update on the fate of this guy. We covered his legal argument that because of something having to do with the history of the post office he lies outside the jurisdiction of American courts.

He also represented himself in the case.

Apparently these approaches to his problem did not solve it.

Hiding Out in the Lasch Building

Whether you’re hiding out in the showers or in the Lasch Building; whether you’re raping a boy or avoiding a subpoena… There’s always something happening at Penn State University!

Merely an opportunity …

this story … for UD to share with you one of her favorite ads.

This just in: Martin Shkreli’s Lawyers Have Asked If He Can Attend the Rest of his Trial…

… in a burqa.

You know the joke…

Even though Morris and Sadie had been married for a very, very long time, they still decided to visit a divorce lawyer in Camden Town. At the first meeting, the solicitor asks them, “Why in the world do you want to get divorced? You each look well into your nineties. Why now of all times?”

Morris replies, “Actually, I’m 102 and my wife Sadie is 101.”

The solicitor is totally bemused and asks them again “So why do you want a divorce now?”

Sadie replies this time, “Well, we wanted to wait until all of the children were dead.”


A variant of it is playing out in Palm Beach, with an 88 year old wife demanding a divorce from her 89 year old husband because of the 61 year old tart he has on the side.

All of their children are still alive, but the article about them still made me think of the joke.

They’re both characters, so the whole article is worth reading. Especially the bit about the Wite-Out.


Ο stars No sense of humor; no grasp of free speech.

Le jour de meph est arrivé!

Multiple documents were proven to be forgeries, including one which appeared to be an invoice for a Bitcoin payment for mephedrone (“bath salts”) to be sent to the French National Assembly.

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