"Alert" revisited

The mystery is no more.

The "Alert" that went unheard...

Dear readers, for reasons beyond my control, this site may expire this week as it did last year around this time.  If it does, I will continue this blog under a new name, PureBunkum.org.  I hope you’ll rejoin me at that site.

My sincere thanks for your continued loyalty and occasional sparring.

Betty Roccograndi

Pure Bunkum 

She's backkkk!

Later

Shots (clip) fired!

You ought not fu>k around in Akron, Ohio.



Nucking futs!

Outstanding.

Later

Somewhere in Time: 1966

I absolutely love poking around in old newspapers.

Doing as much, you learn that as much as things were vastly different for the common, hardscrabble folks; you also find that politics and geopolitics haven't changed in the least. In other words, the unimportant people just try to carve out a happy life, while the important people make it harder and harder and much harder for them to do as much. Same as it ever was.

Off with their heads!

Or some such denuded appendages.

 Later

War for oil?

I'm wondering if Wifey would be interested in living in Holland?

Definately a Markie-friendly environment.



As we all know, Americans lack civility, so this could never happen here.

Shame.

Later

Sunday mornin' musings

Shake, rattle and vacancies.



It can't happen here, you say?

It already did, back in 2011. The earthquake that we felt had it's epicenter in Virginia, a pinpoint on a map surrounded by hydro-fracturing pads.

Vote No! to immunity for those who would inject polluted water into our aquifers.

No! to legalized pollution

 I see the 'executive fiat' king is promising the creation of "Promise Zones," wherein he will pick more of life's winners. Clearly his imbecility is on display once again. How about one big zone comprised of fifty states?

93 million of us are out of the economic loop, but he's promising promise zones, much unlike his repeated promises that we could keep our doctors and keep our health care plans...blah, blah, effing blah.

If you voted for the mystery man with the blank resume, you have my sympathies. And I await your apologies.

In closing, since you demonstrated that you are not to be trusted with a vote, please stay home and smoke your legal pot on election day. Have another abortion or something. Pierce an eyeball or two. Tattoo your scrotum. Fondle your brother, brother. Hug a tree. One that's about ready to topple over.

Jesus should be arriving soon. And if he doesn't arrive soon enough, perhaps the Sun can do us a favor by exploding.

It seems as if New Jersey Governor Chris "Toast" Christie no longer has to worry about losing weight in advance of an envisioned run for the White House. 

Funny about that. We will elect Marxists, perverts, prevaricators, charlatans and blowhards. But we will not elevate a fat man to the presidency. 

Oops! Scratch that fat thing. We will not elevate a calorically-challenged man to the presidency.

Later

Safety glasses must be worn...

This is going to be fun.

This guy, L.A. Tarone, is like hyperactivity on steroids fused with an out-of-control adrenaline pump. He's wildly entertaining as well as well-read.

Finally! Some local P.M. talk worth tuning in for.

Later

Happy New Year!

Man, I am feeling so upbeat, so completely optimistic, I just know that 2014 is going to be a keeper...



And they used to say I was crazy for clenching my fist around lit packs of firecrackers.

Later