• 11 Posts
  • 107 Comments
Joined 11 months ago
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Cake day: August 25th, 2025

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  • Because “Have a cigar” doesn’t mean “Have something pleasurable”: it an English idiom that means “Enjoy your success”, or “You succeeded: celebrate it” (by lighting up a cigar).

    It’s a cognate of the other well know idiom “Close but no cigar”, which means you almost made it, but you didn’t succeed (and you don’t get to light up a cigar to celebrate).

    Whereas “Have some fuckin crack cocaine you crack hoe” is just a crass person offering drugs to a female drug addict.


  • Well, like I said previously, since it’s just about impossible for ordinary folks to get the Epstein files released in full, we should all default to assuming all those mentioned in it are guilty - and since all those fuckers are rich and powerful and they can get the files released, if they want their names cleared, they can jolly well demand the release of the exculpatory evidence themselves.

    And what’s blindingly obvious, starting with the one pedo who’s most mentioned in the files, is that they’re not exactly rushing to demand the truth set free…



  • The way blackmailing works is, the blakmailer threatens the blackmailee to reveal their secrets.

    Trump’s secrets are already out there: he’s a convicted rapist and his name appears more than a million times in the unredacted Epstein files - i.e. if he’s not a fucking pedo, I’m the King of England. No blackmailer has anything on him that everybody doesn’t already know.

    So no.




  • 10. Telegraph Operator

    The OM who taught me Morse code when I passed my ham radio license in the 80s was a long-retired telegraph operator. He recounted how he got his job:

    He saw a ad for a job at his local Western Union telegraph office in the classifieds. He was already a ham radio enthusiast, so he figured he’d give it a shot. He showed up at the date and time indicated in the ad and sat in the waiting room with a bunch of other candidates for a long time. Nobody showed up to interview anybody. So he waited with all the others.

    Then finally he got up and went straight to the recruiter’s office without prompting. He said he suddenly realized, while he was waiting there, that among the machinery noises and the clickety-clicks of the paddles, someone was continuously keying “If you can read this, go straight to the recruiter’s door.”

    The office wanted only the very best telegraphists who lived and breathed the job. They figured someone who automatically listening to Morse code traffic when they heard something, and not just while on the job, was the kind of person they wanted.