Saturday, August 12, 2017

Friday, August 11, 2017

"A lions attempt in hunting a hippo backfires horribly."

Four for Fridays!

The weeks seem to be going faster every week. What happened to all the rain we where suppose to get last night. Here are your questions.

1) Have you ever been cut off on the highway by a semi?

2) Have you ever pulled on the side of the highway because the rain was coming down to hard for you to see the road?

3) Have you ever been in an accident on the highway?

4) What was the worst thing that happened to you when you were on the highway?

Have a great weekend and enjoy the nice weather!

Open Blog - Friday

I hope the other days don't get jealous.

Thursday, August 10, 2017

"WiGWAG: Queen Elizabeth's drinking habits, a Kiss cow, and more"

From Wisconsin Gazette:

News with a twist  Updated

A royal toast, or four

At 91, does Queen Elizabeth have a secret tonic? Well, according to Travel + Leisure magazine, she actually enjoys a daily gin and Dubonnet with a slice of lemon and lots of ice before lunch, followed by a glass of wine and a dry gin martini at lunch and a glass of Champagne before bed. Here, here.

Plastic binge

A woman from a city in central China accumulated more than $3.71 million in personal debt and then attempted to avoid repayment and arrest by undergoing plastic surgery. Reuters reported police officers searching for a 59-year-old woman were astonished to find a woman who looked to be in her 30s. How did she pay for the disguise? She used a credit card, of course.

Better off fired

The week Anthony Scaramucci learned he was out as President Donald Trump’s communication director, he also learned he was dead — at least according to the Harvard Law School’s alumni directory. The directory mailed to alumni in late July showed an asterisk next to Scaramucci’s name, indicating the 53-year-old Ivy Leaguer had died. The school issued an apology and said the error would be corrected in subsequent editions, which are published every five years.

Give a little, take a lot

Donald Trump, as a candidate, promised not to take a salary for serving as president. Since the law says he must be paid, the president is donating his salary. His first-quarter “earnings” went to the Interior Department. And the second-quarter paycheck went to the Education Department, which is due for a 13 percent cut in Trump’s proposed budget. WigWAG wonders: Are donations to government agencies tax-deductible? We’ll probably never know what Trump’s tax returns show.


The Center for Science in the Public Interest issued its annual “Xtreme Eating” awards, recognizing “nutritional nightmares” served in U.S. restaurants. The Cheesecake Factory made the list twice. Its Pasta Napoletana — sausage, pepperoni, meatballs and bacon on pasta that’s been greased with butter and cream — delivers 2,310 calories and 79 grams of saturated fat. And then there’s the boozy Flying Gorilla shake — five scoops of chocolate ice cream drenched in 20 ounces of Budweiser beer.

Not a new deal

Democratic Party leaders this summer rolled out a new agenda with a populist pitch aimed at winning back voters lost to Donald Trump in the 2016 election — still a baffling thought. Promoting “A Better Deal: Better Jobs, Better Wages, Better Future,” the leadership promised “a better deal for American workers.” The rebranding effort prompted a small protest, at which activists hoisted pizza boxes with photos of Nancy Pelosi and the words “Better skills, Better jobs, Better wages, Still Pelosi.” Some have mocked the Dems’ slogan as similar to “Better Ingredients, Better Pizza,” the slogan for Papa John’s pizza.

Hypocritical much?

During a debate with Chelsea Handler over Obamacare, right-wing firebrand and Trump supporter Tomi Lahren admitted she takes advantage of the health care law’s benefits — despite opposing it. At age 24, Lahren remains on her parents’ health insurance policy, thanks to a provision in the law that allows such coverage up to age 26. The debate occurred at Politicon, a non-partisan event.

Un-presidential personified

Before he exited his clown car and entered the presidential circus, Donald Trump was close to signing on to play the president in Sharknado 3: Oh Hell No! But then, he decided not to because — wait for it — he was afraid the appearance would make him look un-presidential. Producer David Latt asked Mark Cuban to take the role instead, triggering a swift threat from a Trump lawyer: “He basically said, ‘How dare you? Donald wanted to do this. We’re going to sue you! We’re going to shut the entire show down!’” Latt told The Hollywood Reporter. It doesn’t get much more presidential than that, does it?

Not a foam party

Flight attendants really hate it when you order Diet Coke. It takes forever to pour, because the lack of sugar creates way more foam than regular sodas. Pouring it over ice makes matters worse. “I’ve actually had nightmares about frantically trying to finish a never-ending Diet Coke beverage service before landing,” American Airlines flight attendant Heather Poole told the Huffington Post.

Cute enough to KISS?

KISS frontman Gene Simmons tweeted “This is real, folks!!!” after seeing an image of a newborn calf with black-and-white facial markings similar to Simmons’ onstage persona. Genie the calf was born on a ranch near Kerrville, Texas, northwest of San Antonio. The ranchers say Genie is a family favorite and won’t be sold for slaughter.


"10 Most Brutal Schools In The World"

Open Blog - Thursday

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Dear Madame Zoltar

Hello my honey dews and don't.  Such beautiful weather!  Get out ,play some game, fall down and cut yourself, end up in the ER getting stitches.  Then you can sue somebody.  It's the great American game.  While I've been the target of lawsuits often enough, I don't think I've ever brought suit against somebody. This whole stinkin' city is full of opportunities to sue.  With an even halfway decent case, the city will fold.  One of my favorites is the "your bus ran over my foot' litigation.  It helps if you have a corrupt foot doctor on your side, but it's not necessary.  In fact, a doctor can cut into your settlement quite a bit.  Limp into City Hall some morning and yell out, "Your bus ran over my foot.  When I yelled for him to stop, he didn't"  Then threaten to sue and see what happens.  If nothing else, you should get something for pain and suffering.  This city just loves to give away money.

If you're really into it, claim some sort of back or nerve damage.  Those are very hard to disprove or prove so it may take awhile, but you could end up with a healthy chunk of change.  We've been giving millions to lying ohn's contacts.  How about we keep some of that green at home?   Speaking of which, my candidate, Sandy Weidner has a campaign headquarters:

She's also released a statment on her run:

Sandy is my candidate, so you'll find a preponderance of evidence to support her here. The above snippets come from Racine Community Media:

Maybe, just maybe, with the head of the snake removed, our Common Council can return to normal.  If not, we'll just have to chase the rest of the cons out.  I believe that lying John will attempt to run Racine "long distance."  His crew is in place.  They'll push his agenda.  Maybe lying John can attempt a takeover of the US Government.  He should be able to pull that off in a week or so.

Speaking of the US Government, I believe that it's our duty to squash the bug currently running North Korea.  All he does is talk war with us.  Well, bring it.  You must have at least a dozen nuclear weapons.  We only have a few thousand.  Pig.

Well, like I said, today is turning out to be a great day.  Plenty of sun and temps not too high.  Thanks for reading the time to read my blog today.  I appreciate all of my readers and encourage them to send more my way.

Thank you, again, for recommending our site.  We're nothing if not crazy.

Please donate:
If you don't like PayPal, send me a note at and I'll send you my street address so you can send a check or money order.  Thank you.


Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Open Blog - Wednesday

Don't fall off of your bar stool.

"Stick Wad"

From the Shepherd Express: 

By Art Kumbalek  4 hours ago

I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, I got the good news and I got the bad news—what’s the “good” and what’s the “bad” is up to you’s, but here it is: On one hand, I’m back from a summertime Up North odyssey 30 miles straight out of Hayward; on the other hand, I’ve returned queasily under-the-weather to the degree that there’s not much on my platter that I can shovel your way in the form of an essay, what the fock.

But hey, thanks for taking care of the city—such as it is—while I was away. And yeah, the trip was OK, thanks for asking, until focking Ernie somehow managed to drop the car keys out of the goddamn boat for christ sakes. You know, when you go Up North you always hear about the deer ticks and the wood ticks and I say big focking deal, ’cause I tell you that the ones that really get under your skin are the luna-focking-tics you’re vacationing with, I kid you not.

Yeah yeah, we were way up northwest around your Sawyer/Bayfield counties, a quaintly developed area of the state where I swear Woodrow Wilson is still president. But it’s one heck of a scenic locale, and although job opportunities seem slim, there appears to be plenty of eating opportunities given the load of girth the huge majority of residents have swaddled themselves with. Cripes, my buddy and political campaign-fund solicitor Herbie goes about 225 lbs. but Haywardians always threw in a couple extra bucks out of sympathy when he panhandled them for the cause ’cause they thought he was sick-thin from chemo treatments or something.

We held our brainstormin’ retreat that could change the future of this country at my buddy Ernie’s brother-in-law’s state-of-the-art summer home. Yes sir, state of the art provided you were a contemporary of Jean Nico-focking-let. And spacious? You bet. How would the equivalent size of three modern-apartment bedroom closets, with equivalent toilet facilities to boot, sound to you? Well, whatever it is you hear Up North, it sure wouldn’t be the sound of a flush toilet if you’d have stayed where we did.

And I’m also tight on time on account of having to meet the fellas up over by the Uptowner tavern/charm school, so’s we can make our plans for going to see the new Apes Planet movie. But I got to tell you, even if this movie is Oscar-worthy, it won’t seem like a genuine Apes movie to me without Chuck Heston in it. Talk about a guy with a style. I don’t want to say the guy brought a curious quality of woodenness to his characters, but whereas most of your actors put on some makeup before doing a scene, Chuck would slap on a fresh coat of varnish and be ready for action, what the fock.

You know, in this new batch of Apes movies, the monkeys are as smart or smarter than the humans—like they’re super aliens from outer space somewheres. Which reminds me, I read an article the other day about this institute out in California to search for extraterrestrial intelligence. And I’ll tell you’s that anytime I hear of some outfit out of Californica that goes by the name of an institute or academy, my nut radar starts to hyperventilate. Contacting aliens? A terrible idea. What if we get mixed up with a bunch of conquistadors from who-knows-where? Hey, go ask the Aztecs how that panned out for them—if you can find any.

And speaking of species of lesser intelligence, our President Orange Circus Peanut apparently entertains a novel notion regarding personal fitness. The following is from a Trump biography by a couple of Washington Post writers, by way of Kali Holloway from Alternet:

“After college, after Trump mostly gave up his personal athletic interests, he came to view time spent playing sports as time wasted. Trump believed the human body was like a battery, with a finite amount of energy, which exercise only depleted. So he didn’t work out. When he learned that John O’Donnell, one of his top casino executives, was training for an Ironman triathlon, he admonished him, ‘You are going to die young because of this.’”

Talk about compassion, ain’a? And this from a guy who was supposed to have a great fantastic plan for health care, a great beautiful plan—part of which, I imagine, that if you now couldn’t afford the astro-focking-nomical health insurance plan, insurance companies would be mandated to rent you a shovel so’s you could choose to dig your own focking grave, what the fock.

Cripes, I got to go relax. Anyways, it’s nice to be back where a guy like me can see concrete again wherever he looks, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.

Open Blog - Tuesday

Feels like Friday to me.