Weekend Name That

Name that Hostage

 

 

 

Imagine yourself here: Lapeerpalooza TOWMJGM

Right here:

Or, if you’re not the social type, here, off by yourself:

 

Pay no attention to the fact that the deck currently has no rails. That has NOTHING to do with the plans for MJ’s “disappearance”. We’re ordering the wire this week, and hopefully that will be rectified.

Perhaps you’d want to zip around the lake on one of our jet skis!!!  For the low, low price of a glass of wine paid to me, this can happen.

 

My crack mechanic (#2 son Matt)  is at work getting them in top condition as I write:

 

 

We have TOP NOTCH accommodations here at Chez Car in and this can be had at a very reasonable rate **again a nice hearty glass of wine, and whoever needs it/asks first

 

I got a bunch of these cool light things for the deck, but I haven’t figured out how exactly I’m going to put them up:

 

I may try something new while I have guests, and as soon as I figure what this guy is saying I’ll try to whip some of this up. I don’t know how many more times I’m going to have to watch it …

There’s sure to be some awesome music on the deck too as I give everyone a very complete presentation of what’s currently rotating on my playlist.

And don’t forget the real reason for coming to Lapeerpalooza …

 

He’s dirty.

He’s smelly.

But he’s 155 pounds of pure love. Let’s all have a nice round of applause for MOOOOOOSE.

 

(not actual size – this is from last year)

 

Well, i don’t know what the heck else I can do to convince everyone?

Maybe this –  one last picture of moose:

 

 

 

Medium Boob Friday

Hello tucklovers. This week, we pause from our admiration of large breasted women (trigger!) and instead, shift our gaze to those C players–the gals in the middle of the bell curve. Today’s model is, er, a model who has mastered the, ‘I’m not sure why I’m here pose.’ Please give a warm welcome to Sarah McDaniel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 10/10, would smash.

But before we get to the boobs, please to be enjoying a little music from Car in’s favorite band. I wrote this song whilst deep in the woods hunting for Cyn. I was looking and looking and looking and looking…

*

The Beatles Suck

For some reason I can’t get this stupid Beatles song out of my head…Revolution. Every time I hear someone spouting off about treason, I think ‘talkin’ bout an execution.’

Louis Guitierrez (D-ICK) is the latest to promise his constituents that when the democrats take back the house he’s going to, “to make sure that I am there to make sure of one thing, that we write those articles of impeachment and take him to trial before the Senate and eliminate him as president of the United States of America.”

That’s some pretty hot chocolate he’s serving. Are we really here? Are we at a place in politics where Sentators–I’m looking at you Tim Kaine– and House Reps wantonly throw around execution as a political end? And just so we’re clear, we’re talking about executing the President and members of his family who are not currently employed by the administration.

It’s been 45 days since Steve Scalise and dozens of others were targeted for political assassination and there are many on the Left that have decided to escalate the Cold Civil War. I won’t even attempt to square the counterfactual circle of how this would have been played if Obama were the target. A brain divided against itself cannot stand.

I know we don’t all agree that Donald J. Trump is the God Emperor we’ve been waiting for. In reality, he worries me a bit, but I’m willing to look past all of his flaws for a few reasons. First, everyone I dislike hates him. Second, he is a giant middle finger to what I believe is a growing chasm in American society. We’re not just divided in politics, but have formed a neatly coded society where it is perfectly acceptable to deride entire swaths of the country to prove allegiance to a social class.  His mere existence as a working man’s hero (a neat little trick in and of itself) spotlights how hollow our supposed intellectual betters have become. Third, he fights. And while I don’t always agree with what or whom he is fighting, I believe parsing every issue as if it has some deep meaning is more wrong. An illegal alien is not an undocumented immigrant.

GND and I have had this long standing conversation about if or when the President is going to be assassinated. She has always been of the opinion that he won’t make it to the end of his term. I have always believed that its not really possible, let alone probable that a crazed Leftist could pull it off.

But I’m starting to waver.

To borrow a refrain from a boring man, ‘Russia called, and they want their foreign policy back.’

 

Current picture for Leon;

 

LemonMelonBoobParty

In the never ending quest to find new material for these poats I sometimes fail to satisfy everyone’s diverse interests and tastes. Not enough boobs, melons or lemons. And to all the knob gobbling critics residing in ass alley, I wish you to enjoy all the vag cheese you can fit in your hairy clam hole. But, of course, in a nice way!

Holding Poat – Bad Trip part ducks

that’s french you ignant bastards –

Big Boob Friday

Well hey there. Pupster is behind enemy lines in the exotic land of Canadia so you’re going to have to put up with me for this week. You’re welcome in advance.

I wrote this song whilst thinking about Cyn. If you get a chance, skip to 32:54 and 53:10 for other really good songs that you’ll hate and make fun of me for liking.

Today’s model is a tremendous pick for BBF. Probably one of my best choices ever. You’ll never be tired of winning with the loverly Miss Danielle Riley!!!!!!!!ELEVEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Palindrome Week!

Yes, it’s that week where the dates are the same going backwards as forwards. And the week where we are ever mindful of not exposing our lessers to cultural conundrums a la David Brooks (famous NYS writer).

David Brooks is the Sandwich Artist of Virtue Signaling

From the NYTimes, so don’t click.

Recently I took a friend with only a high school degree to lunch. Insensitively, I led her into a gourmet sandwich shop. Suddenly I saw her face freeze up as she was confronted with sandwiches named “Padrino” and “Pomodoro” and ingredients like soppressata, capicollo and a striata baguette. I quickly asked her if she wanted to go somewhere else and she anxiously nodded yes and we ate Mexican.

American upper-middle-class culture (where the opportunities are) is now laced with cultural signifiers that are completely illegible unless you happen to have grown up in this class. They play on the normal human fear of humiliation and exclusion. Their chief message is, “You are not welcome here.”

–David Brooks

Tuesday on Tittyweb Jenkins

WAKEY WAKEY.

 

Sorry that my promised, and highly anticipated poat is more of an afternoon delight, but I had shit to do.

 

Mostly, I had to purchase QOTSA Cats fucking in a closet tickets.    And I got AWESOME seats.   Aren’t you all excited?

 

Whatever bitches.