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Notice to visitors: This page will eventually become a bloviator’s corner for posting OOCEs (Observations on current events;) to wit:

OOCE1: Say, what’s up with that volcano, Kīlauea? Did Hawaii run out of virgins or something? So I guess it’s really true that Hawiian women are smokin’ hot, then?

OOCE3: Recently, for reasons only intelligible to herself, Roseanne Barr diarrhea-thumbed a snarky bunch of BS on twitter about Chelsea Clinton, George Soros, some Black gal who worked for Obama, etc. etc., managing to get herself kicked off the air, out of showbiz, maybe off the planet by the time all is said and done, what a maroon! Okay, so regardless of your politics, what’s up with that? What ever happened to the First Amendment? How come a fat ugly comedienne can’t get away with throwing the same kind of shade that the fat ugly Pres of the hapless US throws around in all directions every other day, and nobody bats an eye?

OOCE4: Speaking of maroons, I just read where some TV talking head named Shep Smith, referring evidently to a trade hissyfit between Pres. Trumpster-fire and Hoserheim PM Pierre Trudeau, said maybe we need a Northern Wall. Really? For what, to ward off all those wiley Canadian frostbacks from swimming the St. Lawrence under the dark-o’-the-moon to illegally harvest the Northern New York citrus crop? I couldn’t help asking a Canadian friend why Canada didn’t build a Southern Wall? She said “We did, but it melted.”

OOCE5: Speaking of which, SNL’s Seth Meyers asks “How do you get in a war with Canada?” Good question, although if anybody could manage to do that, it would probably be our current brain-scan flatline Commander-In-Cheeto. And no, fool, it was British regulars, not Royal Canadian Marines, who burned the White House. The thing is, if anybody’s memory actually went back that far, they might recall that, before the Civil War, the US did manage to get into a series of wars with our friendly neighbor to the north, culminating in the “Patriot’s War” of 1837, and in each case the Hosers kicked our butts. And this, if memory serves, under the administration of a serious fighting president and guy you didn’t mess with, Andrew Jackson, who defeated a superior British force at the Battle of New Orleans, fought duels from which he carried real bullets around in his body, preferred to kill his enemies with his own hands and once disarmed and personally arrested an attempted assassin in the streets of DC. Is our fearless leader Cadet Bone Spurs really sure he’s the man to lead us back into a reprise of all that?

OOCE6: Latest Policy masterwork from Cadet Bonespurs Chickenhawk Dolt 45: He wants to go one step beyond the US Airforce with a sixth force, a US Spaceforce! We must be dominant in outer space! Will somebody please tell Herr der Gropenfuhrer that the Space Age has been over for a few years now? Outside of the moon, there’s really not much out there of any interest. The reason they call it space is because it’s pretty much like the space between his ears; there’s nothing there. As some Twitteroid out there observed, this is what happens when we have a new Star Wars movie every year. Now, if only President Tangerine Shartcannon would climb aboard that first spacecraft they build and take a shakedown cruise tour of the front, to some galaxy long ago and far away…

OOCE7: OMFG: It’s really past time that Americans finally faced the issue of whether it’s okay to have a sociopath for a president, even a uniquely talented sociopath. So far as is known, President Pants-On-Fire is the only known warm-blooded biped able to fart through his mouth, possibly with the help of  a freakishly reactivated junk-gene left over from an ancient starfish ancestor or, more prosaically, the same cold-soldered joint upstairs that causes the compulsive prevarication, but never mind; now you know why Trump doesn’t smoke. This latest lulu is a 4th of July fireworks-class crepitation, even for Donny J. Shartcannon 45; a public figure lying about a public figure, Jimmy Kimmel, right to his face! Rather than me playing spoiler here, if you didn’t catch this on the boobtube,  it’s worth you Googling it out of some interwebs tabloid like Huffpo before some celebrity starlet sideboob scandal pushes it off to page 26, because Kimmel’s reaction was priceless. One may only tremble for the future of the commonwealth in praying that President BadHairDay is smarter at playing dozens with nasty-ass foreign leaders than he is about pitching softball setups down the middle for late night comics to smack out of the park.

OOCE8: Ever hear of Sasha Baron Cohen? He’s the prankster who tricked Sarah Palin (ever hear of Sarah Palin? You know, Snowdrift Spice, that trash that ran for VP on the John McCain ticket, one mere notch above the trash currently occupying the Oval Office?) into thinking she was being interviewed by somebody important, to use on his forthcoming show? So he used her native stupidity, got her to make a fool of herself as usual on national media. Some people would probably be dumb enough to say, considering the average stupidity of John Q Public, that all’s fair in politics, all well and good, we’re all sitting here begging for it, right? Except that… well, Sarah having gone out of her way to accommodate Cohen’s supposed piece of dreck show, he then had his drivers take her to the wrong airport, so as to miss her plane to her next engagement. Whoops! That, my friends, is a violation of hospitality, meaning say hello to the lowest piece of shit of all, Sasha Baron Cohen! Sarah was his guest, his responsibility, meaning that, no matter what he may think of her personally, he is morally and ethically obligated as a gentleman to see to her wellbeing in every respect, regardless of whether she might be the devil incarnate. Just as I would be if Cohen were my guest, even though, myself as a gentleman, I would hardly be likely to let him, Trump or Sarah into my house, but no matter. Hospitality has been violated, and you just don’t do that, considering how many embarrassments America has been exposed to on the world stage as it is already. It’s surely up to some gentleman to lay rough hands on this fool and teach him an overdue lesson. I only wish it were me who could catch up with Cohen, take him behind the barn and kick the living shit out of him until he gets the idea. Maybe break a few bones, one at a time, to make sure the whole thing sticks in his head, namely, that of all moral and ethical obligations, you don’t break the law of hospitality. For any reason. Ever.

OOCE9: A fond farewell to John McCain, the last statesman . Your politics were  not my politics, John, but you were worth having around. You died too soon, but no matter. You merely left behind a world, the poorer for your loss, which was no longer worthy of you.

Please excuse the inconvenience. We’re opening the site prematurely for visitors, because it’s going to take time to build, but the postings planned for it are meaningful now. If you’ve ever set up a blog, you already know that it’s the most bastardly software abortion the demented minds of halfwitted IT flunk-outs ever invented, so we expect to be working on it quite awhile before it can be pronounced worthy of your visitation and we can invite Pres. Forrest Trump to come round and cut the ribbon, in hopes that he’ll ignore our advice, just like he always did mommy’s and everybody else’s about being like a box of chocolates, and try to run with the scissors. I am Garman Lord, paperback writer, and the main purpose of this site is to pimp my mystery novels, as well as providing a broadside for my own opinions on just about everything, whether asked-for or not, so meanwhile, you’re invited to explore at your own risk. Please be careful not to step off into any freshly poured pools of concrete, and we’re holding ourselves harmless if you happen to do injury to yourself in tripping over any cinder blocks or piles of rubble. Otherwise, welcome one and all, and do enjoy!


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