… the dead Turkish guy and the wrath of Allah, you are sadly mistaken.
UD proposes significant American mental health aid to Poland, and pronto. An emergency assistance package for our old friend and ally.
Yesterday the paranoiac leader of the party that’s just been voted out of power trundled up to the podium in the parliament (he did this against all parliamentary rules) and, with an intensity of bitterness that would have impressed Iago, shouted at the new prime minister that he’s a German spy.
Today a schizophrenic parliamentarian, representing a fascist party, unloaded a fire extinguisher on a just-lit menorah in the parliament’s lobby because menorahs are satanic.
What will tomorrow bring? A hebephrenic from Hajnowka shitting on the Kopernika Monument? A catatonic from Katowice collapsing in the middle of St John’s Archcathedral and refusing to get up?
Poland’s new PM represents an inspiring victory for democracy against the tyranny of the now-deposed Law and Justice party, whose bitter senile leader rushed the podium at the conclusion of the vote in favor of Tusk. “YOU ARE A GERMAN AGENT!” he shouted at the PM.
Christian has two mommies.
Mommy Bridget, and an unnamed third participant in Christian and Bridget’s threesomes. who’s accusing Christian of rape.
Mommy Bridget runs a book-burning group, Moms for Liberty.
She and Christian hate homosexuality and want all books about it destroyed.
(“Apparently the Zieglers hold that it’s not gay if it’s a three-way.“)
They want those books replaced by books about threesomes.
Meanwhile, Becki and Jerry send their thoughts and prayers.
During the morning session, Donald Trump attempted to read the contents of a sheet of paper he had in his pocket — an effort that violates trial procedure and decorum, and was immediately shut down by Judge Arthur Engoron.
“I’d love to read this, your honor, if I could, if I’m allowed to do that,” Trump said, clutching the paper.
“Not at this point, no,” Engoron said.
“Shock,” Trump muttered. “I’m shocked.”
It was not clear what Trump was attempting to read.
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According to sources, this is the text:
There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into an abyss of injustice where they experience the bleakness of corroding despair.
Pence comes to the end of his song. History will show that his downfall lay in his dark unresolved love affair with Trump – a relationship observers have compared to that between Charlotte Rampling and Dirk Bogarde in the film Night Porter. Pence came to love his murderer — much too kinky for the average American voter.
[S]upporters of [Jim] Jordan have been sharing Federal Election Commission [FEC] documents around Washington D.C. showing that [Steve] Scalise has spent more than $500,000 through his congressional campaign account [on steaks] at Capital Grille since 2011.
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Ever since ol’ Tommy took a tumble
And landed like a fool upon his ass
I’ve wondered when the rest of him would crumble
And make his farce a memory of the past…
When Bama makes no rendezvous
With folks whose brains are all doodoo
When this disgusting pol is through
Won’t our lives be fine?
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The doctors cannot treat you if you’re dying
So all the doctors up and disappeared
Maternal deaths are secret – no fair prying –
In Idaho!
Non-viable? You’ll carry it to full-term
We’ll pray with you throughout it, never fear
Together we will honor all divine sperm
In Idaho!
I know it sounds a bit bizarre
It sounds a bit bizarre
But in Idaho
That’s how conditions are!
No pregnancy may end no matter danger
The zygote is a person through and through
In short, you’ll never know
A more pernicious foe
Than zealot evangelicals
Right here in Idaho
Idaho! Idaho!
I know it gives a person pause,
But in Idaho
Those are the legal laws.
BOOMERICO, n. A law which, when thrown, returns to the thrower.
Patrons, who sign up as much for the prestige as the workouts, pay $900 per month to learn her Tracy Anderson Method – a dance-based workout in a room heated to 95 degrees with 75 per cent humidity.
… [O]n top of their hefty monthly membership costs there is also a fee to reserve a mat for the summer – which essentially allows people to save their favorite spots in class.
[I]n 2018 the price was already a hefty $3,000 but, as of this year, it has risen to a staggering $5,500.
… [Employees’] bodies were pushed to ‘breaking’ point with the level of intensity demanded from [them], with the heat of the studios also leaving them ‘exhausted and dehydrated.’
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UD notes that one popular way to differentiate/massively overprice yourself in postmodern American markets is via deadly perversion. You take a straightforward location/experience (workout studio, restaurant, coffee shop, tourism outing) and you utterly psychotically fuck it up so it might poison your clients or give them heat stroke or bankrupt them or generate homicidally competitive self-display. (See David Brooks on “dial-an-ordeal.”) People won’t tolerate your insane jacking up of the price unless you make them feel they’re in a sudden unforeseen windstorm on Everest that’s going to kill them.