F Scotland

Yesterday I heard John Bolton point out that this guy served roughly two weeks of jail time for each person he murdered.

This is one of those situations where the Scottish people were fed a line of crap by their politicians and press, and now they feel the rage and embarresment of what was done.  There is going to be a house cleaning in Scotland.

That would be nice.

And the thought occurred to me this morning that a good boy in the Martian colonies would likely end up wearing something like a kilt to the senior prom to go along with what the girls are not wearing.

Perhaps I was getting a bit senile at the age of a hundred and ten but I had to wonder how the idiot managed to boot up a word processor without getting himself killed or seriously injured.

Of course I felt at the time that I had to respond to the idiot.  Perhaps that was another sign of advancing senility.

And I had to use up my remaining reserve of wit in a volley of sarcasm.

“Why not dispense with the cloth component altogether?”  I wrote.  “The young women of our fair planet should just wear their personal weapon and some locally made jewelry like a proper Martian Princess from the pages of Edgar Rice Burroughs!  And if a virtuous young woman is not entirely comfortable with that level of nudity then perhaps she could wear a wide ribbon of fine cloth on her neck, wrists, and ankles in order to symbolically represent the ensemble that she would have otherwise worn back on the Earth.”

There were comics, some of whom were actually funny, who called the cuffs and collar a voodoo prom dress. 

Okay, I see could their point.  Other than the one on their heads.

Other wags predicted that the purveyors of fetishware on Earth would turn out their own version, and do it badly.
Unfortunately they were right.

The problem with sarcasm was that sometimes it comes back to bite you in the ass.

I had to say something to my granddaughter.

“You do understand that if you get kicked out of the prom that I’m not going to make a public fuss about it or use any influence to retaliate against those who kicked you out?”

“Yes.”  She said.  “You’re not going to object then?”

“If I did you would only go ahead and do it anyway.”  I said.  “And them you are going to write a long and hard to read paper explaining in detail why you were correct in doing so.”

That reply was apparently a jaw dropper for her.

“You are my granddaughter.”  I said.  “And I absolutely expect nothing less from you.”

Alice, my favorite granddaughter, was not ejected for the senior prom. 

In the following year, in all of the habitats on the planet Mars, the majority of the young women attending their senior proms had adopted the Martian Princess mode of formal attire.

I had no idea what the idiot thought of this.  He was shortly found dead at his computer workstation with the word processor in boot up mode.

British Petroleum purchased his freedom to get the Lybian oil contract.

The same BP who financed the take over of America by a  Kenyan illegal...

Who now is blackmailing them to get money for buying the next elections...

Since there is no honor amongst thieves, witness Hussein MelonHead destroy his partners

the whimpy Limeys of BP and with them all these useless Brit civil servants pension plans!!!...