Gun-grabbing obozo

One thing I love about obozo, he’s only surrounded by ass-lickers and therefore thinks he has the rest of the country fooled.  The Supreme Narcissist dares to accuse others of being paranoid.

“The United States was born suspicious of some distant authority…”

No, obozo, the Founders divided government’s power in thirds because it feared our OWN government’s authority. Though the federal leviathan is not working very well these days with the activist Supreme Joke and coward GOP congress, in a year you’ll be gone, a talkshow irritant whose reign shall only be remembered as the most visible failure of affirmative action.  President Trump has his work cut out for him.

So, there’s no reason to be concerned about an out-of-control federal mafia?

EPA, FDA stocking up on body armor during President Obama’s watch

 

Watchdog: Feds paid Amtrak worker to spy on passengers

“The OIG determined that over a period of 20 years, the DEA paid the Amtrak employee $854,460 as of January 2014 for information that was available at no cost to the government in violation of federal regulations relating to the use of government property, thereby wasting substantial government funds,” the OIG wrote.

Needlessly spying on citizens AND wasting money at the same time?! THAT is government efficiency!

Mark Kelly, the obozo shill married to Gabby Giffords (another victim of armed left-wing nutjobs) innocently asked: “So, I would like you to explain with 350 million guns in 65 million places, households, from Key West, to Alaska, 350 million objects in 65 million places, if the Federal government wanted to confiscate those objects, how would they do that?”

For an astronaut, Kelly sure lacks imagination.

It’s not impossible for the federal mafia to reduce the number of guns to insignificance. Remember, half the American people are already sheep and would turn in their guns if commanded. Another crossover segment would turn in guns voluntarily for a federal gun buyback program. obozo burned a trillion dollars on a scamulus with nothing to show for it, do you think the federal mafia can’t print another worthless trillion and offer $5000 for every gun? It’s funny money, folks, 1s and 0s.

Another portion of the “free” will turn in their armed neighbors for monetary awards and even now the obzoo crime syndicate is using “Executive Orders” to allow it to seize guns from whomever they deem “crazy” (a favorite tactic of communists).

Finally, looking ahead 30 years or so, drones will have made the entire world a surveillance state. There will be almost nowhere to even hide a firearm. Once the micro-drones report an illegal gun (that is, any gun not controlled by the government) humanoid robots controlled by distant soldiers will go house-to-house to collect it by force. Surrogates wasn’t a great movie, but this 30-second scene (click to play) shows how it could work. Instead of “pilots” flying drones over Iraq from Texas, it would be guys anywhere commanding disposable humanoid soldiers.

Long before the robot uprising, man will enslave man with electric eyes and golems.

Have a nice future! And remember: only the paranoid survive.

 

 

(Ongoing Honorable Mention to the Cankles Crime Syndicate. Still can’t shake those emails!)

Where your sorry ass been at?

The first meatlights post of 2009 and Jan is already half-over, a case of so much happening that nothing has happened.

Things are in motion and this time I’m going with them.

Even without writing for almost a month, meat-hits remain constant because of posts referring to ‘norpography’. I should send Marc Wallace an e-card.

We’re less than a week away from the Obamessiah taking the reigns. I’m betting it will take less than 4 years for the peeps who voted for him to understand why the other half of the country voted against him.

I see no reason to give His Highness “a chance”. If someone stated his intention to jump off a cliff and meant it, I wouldn’t need to see him do it to believe he was nuts. Obama’s laid out his socialist “plan” and it’s an ‘end justifies the means’ thing. You’ll see. Buy a gun if you haven’t already.

As for the other side, I deem the Bush presidency overall to be a failure (this from someone who supports the Iraq War) because of the bailouts, which are inexcusable; it would’ve been better to let the whole fucking thing collapse. Instead of “saving the free market” Bush cut the ribbon on the road leading to tyranny, and now Obama as Grand Marshal begins the march.

My friends, my friends, let me remind you that it wasn’t deregulation, free markets or freedom that caused this mess, it was government, which treats its citizens’ rights and money like a subcompact rental car.

Enough about pollytix.

Hope you’re enjoying the new year. It’s ridiculous that a man-made invention like calendar time has the power to transform people (more like resetting a computer with a virus) but it seems to help, a little.  New Year’s Day is a symbolic bullet in the head of the corpse of Xmas to assure it’s dead.

Blessings to my 3 readers of the non-sex posts and to the tens of people who read the dirty stuff. Here’s to more sex and filth in oh-nine.

Egg McMuffin sex romp

Early November, why wait? I’ve already written off 2008 as another year of not getting laid.

As a social autistic that hates people and can’t bear listening to women talk about nothing while not undressing, I have no chance. Call girls around here are $200 and no pussy is worth more than 50 dollars except in the mind of the victim. Unlike Mexico, isolated parts of Nevada and indoors in Rhode Island, hooking is illegal here.

I can’t even aspire to Tijuana, it’s been way too expensive for over a year. It’s the world’s fault for the high cost of plane tickets and oil, it’s mine for having no disposable income or friends in Mexifornia with their own place; my one Spanish-speaking friend who would venture across the border would have to drive his beater a hundred miles at outrageous gas prices just meet me in Sandy Eggo.

Ignoring the cost and horror of actually going to TJ, the #1 obstacle is the new passport card required for foot travel between Mexico and Mexifornia or anywhere else in the USA: costing around 100 bucks, it’s another layer of useless government turdocracy that will stop no infiltrators and another reason I endorse hanging every moon-worshipping savage by his filthy turban (Sikhs excluded).

Without sex with a woman as an option, I turned to Egg Mcmuffins. They were 2 for $2; didn’t even have to leave the car to buy them.

I eat food from Big Yellow M maybe 5 times a year, if that. One of the reasons is cost: the days of 10-cent hamburgers are frozen in black-and-white history; a large cup of orange juice was $2.39.

I drove to a secluded parking lot.

Egg McMuffin! Sex in a paper wrapper. Masterpiece of design and engineering. It belongs in space, floating between the earth and moon. Flip it over, there’s no top or bottom, no beginning or end.

Of all Mcfoods, the McMuffin seems to retain the heat of birth the longest. As I unwrapped the noisy paper I glanced a number on the wrapper. 300 calories? Where? How?

I peeled open the warm “bun”. The glowing orange cheese looked like it had been hugged at the last second by a suicide bomber, a gooey mess filling the cratered moonscape of muffin. The steaming warm “egg patty” was a near-perfect circle, glistening, white, pure. Unlike Yellow M’s survivalist scrambled eggs with a congealed half-life of 3 minutes, the McMuffin egg remained, in its impossible shape, a symbol of life.

The Canadian bacon was a perfect circle (perhaps Canadians made their pigs run around a circular pen).

I poured McDonald’s “Hotcakes” syrup on the egg and bun. McSyrup is the way sex should taste, the blood of the god Diabetes. In Heaven there’s a harlot named Hotcakes and her pussy tastes like this.

I reassembled the Egg McMuffin and bit into it slowly, carefully. Try eating one too quickly and the squishy-firm egg will break off and try to lodge in your windpipe.

I ate the Egg McMuffin. Unlike the Big Mac or fries, the McMuffin tastes as good Now as it did Then.

Four or five bites and it was over. The first McMuffin, seductive, nostalgic, awakened the palate for the second, which is just good rhythmic fucking with a happy finish.

I looked down at my shirt. I’d been careful, but one glistening zipper of syrup with a tiny bead for a pull, scarred my shirt. I looked in the rearview mirror; rivulets of syrup glistened on my chin, the vampire drinks from maple trees.

I washed up with hand cleaner, balled the wrappers. My head was clear while my gut lodged a boulder of egg, cheese, bacon. I wouldn’t have to eat anything else for the rest of the day, or year.