Do not take the Covid vaccines

There are many, many problems with them, both manifest and potential, and people, as Nancy Pelosi won't say this time, are dying. 

Bret Weinstein, Robert Malone, M.D., and some guy I never heard of named Steve Kirsch discuss the latest piece of pure fucking evil perpetrated by public health officials, pols, corporations, "scientists," and, of course, social and legacy media: the effort to sell the public on the safety of the vaccines. Lying, censorship, ignored and hidden information, media malice and recklessness, monstrous ideological corruption--all once again present, only worse this time. 

The vid is three hours and 16 minutes long, and it's all important. And despite Bret's typically goofy, hey-guys-this-just-might-work solution, it's all both (sing it with me!) depressing and enraging. The only bright spots are that it was made, that it has not (yet at least) been censored, and that views are rising fast. It deserves the widest possible circulation, and despite my minus one readership (I don't read my stuff either), I'm duty bound to post it.

Update: Now it's been censored, both on Youtube and Vimeo. Here it is on a platform I'd never heard of called Odysee. (Can't figure out how to embed it from there.)

Update II: Reuters does a "fact check" in which some of the claims made in the Weinstein vid are disputed, particularly that the spike protein is cytotoxic. Oddly, though it's talked about a lot in the video, Reuters does not attempt to debunk the claims made in it for the effectiveness of Ivermectin in prophylaxis and treatment of Covid. Anyhow, here's a handy-dandy chart one of Reuters' experts put together:

Weinstein, et. al should address this, but in the meantime, here's another gink, Luc Montagnier, winner of the 2008 Nobel Prize for his discovery of the Human Immunodeficiency Virus, who says flatly, "I refuse to be vaccinated." That video was also censored by Youtube and Facebook and now appears on Odysee. Montagnier's assertion that the vaccines themselves are creating dangerous Covid variants, however, is disputed in a piece from Poynter, the ultra-orthodox media-news site (and Facebook censorship partner), which also claims that Montagnier is some kind of homeopathy loving waterhead.

"How are you handling Covid, my darling Mr. Drunkablog?"

Many ex-readers have asked. Well, the D-blog is doing much better, thanks, since that day in late April or early May when he stood in the Walmart parking lot (Colfax and Wadsworth) hearing the Walmart Covid announcement over the giant central loudspeaker:

We know it can be a difficult time. and we are working hard to make every day life easier for you. . .

And screaming at the oddly unfazed Drunkawife, "Suicide of the West! Suicide of the West!"

As a reminder, we’ve adjusted our store hours to make it easier for associates to stock and perform enhanced cleaning and sanitizing. . .

 "Suicide of the West!"

 across the store. Please remember to wash your hands often, stay home if you are. . .

 "Suicide of the West!"  

sick and practice good social separation of at least six feet when possible. Loitering inside and outside the store is strictly prohibited. Thank you for choosing. . .

"Suicide of the West!"

 Walmart.

Update II:  Those who know him will know that the D-blog is not actually doing much better, especially today. Today Denver Mayor Michael Hancock mandated that masks be worn outdoors, "for the foreseeable future." Another order limits gatherings of "unrelated" people to five. Read the story. Pure evil from the Post, but just another example of how the media, elected officials, public health officials and your average street Stasi* all now share two motive forces: malice, and recklessness amounting to malice. 

*Last week I was walking a dog at Berkeley Lake across Sheridan from Lakeside Amusement Park. Guy coming toward me on the path stops 100 feet away and pulls up his stupid bandana. Then as he comes closer he gets off the path and goes about 30 feet up a little rise and stands there. I walk by and give a polite wave (as is customary in Colorado) and he gives a little mocking wave back and says, "Fuuuuuuck you, man." No, I wasn't wearing a mask.

  

Fuuuuuuck you, man: Berkeley Lake in happier times.

Update III: Never watched any of this guy's videos before, haven't seen this one yet, but here's what he's gonna say: Covid conforms to the Gompertz Curve; therefore, none of the evil totalitarian shit rammed down everyone's throat (with all too many swallowing eagerly, of course) has done or will do a lick of good. Researchers agree that I'm clairvoyant.

Oh, come on

Update (two weeks or so later):


Better sentiment ("LIFES MATTER";"Don't fucking EVEN"), no correction of grammar.

"I'm personally coming to you, John"

R.O. in process. Michelle:

"John--

It is absolutely critical that we elect Hillary Clinton as our next president and Democrats down the ticket. . . . [Nice sentence.]

That's why I'm personally coming to you, John, and asking a simple question: have you done everything you can to help Hillary win?"

I . . . have not. 

Fleet week

Having earned his (provisional) release from the Oklahoma State Home for the Genial (hi there!), the D-blog decided to use some of his accumulated disability payments (the D-blog is now officially 112 percent disabled, btw) to expand his fleet of work vehicles.

Isn't this a cool truck?

Hard to read, but it says, "Old Pickup That Died!!?? Not For Sale!!!!" Love this truck.
  The D-blog uses it to haul grain to the frou-frou little Farmers Market at 38th and Federal. 

And this is the D-a-W's new daily driver:

Yes, do. The D-a-W is very into the Vegan Prosperity Gospel and, as you can see, this little beauty goes far toward making that gospel manifest in her daily life. We haul grain in it, too.

And here (best for last), is the D-blog's own day-to-day car. A little pricey for a late-model used, but as I've discovered, love really is what makes a Subaru a Subaru:

You should see the smiles and waves, hear the honks and laughter, when the D-blog is driving this baby. For some reason, though, it's only guys who see me getting out of it at the store or whatever who come over and ask to take a picture of me posing with this car. No chicky-babes. Weird.

Reconstruction

Elephant: Well . . .

Tourist (passing by): Pardon me?

Elephant: Oh, I'm sorry. Just talking to myself.

Tourist: Okay.

Elephant: It's just that . . .

Tourist: What?

Elephant: Well, see, I have this new camera . . .

Tourist: That's a nice one.

Elephant: Yeah, it is. Cost me 900 bucks.

Tourist: (Whistles.)

Elephant: Yeah. Anyway, I've been taking a lot of pictures--you know, the savanna, some of my elephant buddies, those weird trees . . .

Tourist: Acacia?

Elephant: Gesundheit. Anyhow, like I said, I've been taking lots of pictures, but what I haven't done is try to get a good shot of a human. And when I saw you walking by . . .

Tourist: Yeah?

Elephant: You won't laugh?

Tourist: Of course not.

Elephant: Well, I thought, "There goes quite a handsome fellow."

Tourist (embarrassed, looking at the ground): Aw, crap.

Elephant: No, I did. I thought, "There goes quite a handsome fellow. I wonder if he would do me the honor of posing for my first portrait of a human?" Wow, I can't believe I even said anything . . .

Tourist: No, no, it's fine . . .

Elephant (shyly): Well, now that we've been talking some, I wonder . . .

Tourist (expansive): If you can take my picture? Why, sure!

Elephant: Really? You don't mind!

Tourist: Of course not! Hell (laughs), I won't even charge you!

Elephant: Oh, that's really so kind of you . . .

Tourist: Not at all! Kinda tickles me to have my picture taken by an elephant.

Elephant (excitedly): Okay! Here we go! Now, just look off in the distance, maybe like you're hearing the stampeding of a mighty herd . . .

Tourist: Like this? (strikes pose).

Elephant: That's it! Hold it . . . and . . . got it!

Tourist: Get a good one?

Elephant (looks at viewfinder): It's perfect! Want to see?

Tourist: Sure. (Looks): Say, that's not bad. . .

Elephant: Oh, thank you.

Tourist (after a moment, slightly awkwardly): Well, okay, guess I'll be moving along. Nice talking
to y--

Elephant: I'm terribly sorry, but can I ask one more favor?

Tourist (hoping the elephant will call him handsome again): Sure, just ask!

Elephant: Well, I've been trying to figure out the timer on this thing, and I think I've finally got it.

Tourist: Uh-huh.

Elephant: So I wonder if we could . . .

Tourist: Get a picture together? Absolutely!

Elephant: Oh, thank you so much . . .

Tourist: Hey, no problemo.

Elephant: Okay. Now I've got the camera on my tripod, I'll just set it for what? Five seconds? Okay, five seconds. That's plenty of time for me to run around and get next to you, right?

Tourist: You're the photographer.

Elephant: 'Kay, here we go . . . um . . .

Tourist: What?

Elephant: Well, when we're together for the shot . . . can I put my right front leg around your shoulders, you know, like we're real old friends?

Tourist (smug at the attention this elephant is paying him): Why, sure you can!

Elephant: Oh, that's wonderful. Okay, let's do it! Timer tripped . . . and here I come!

Drudge: Elephant tramples tourist to death trying to take photo... 

Update: Having actually read the story now, I see that the tourist was Italian. The d-blog thought about rewriting this with a bunch of "zees" and "zos" or whatever Italians do (don't worry, I'd have researched it) thrown in, but screw it. Just read aloud and insert your own Italian accent, okay? (That's for the tourist; I don't know what accent to read the elephant in.)

D-blog to testify in murder trial

Fuuuuuuuuuu. Just got the subpoena today. Not gonna say nothin' about the case, except that it involves persons previously (to the murder, that is) unknown to the peace-loving D-blog. Instead I'll just quote from Michael Roberts' (blech) brief write-up of the murder in Westword nearly two years ago:

Michael Chavez was murdered near the 1600 block of Bryant Street; at this writing, no one has been arrested or charged for the crime.

Now, there's been another fatal shooting not far away -- near 26th and Bryant, according to the Denver coroner's office, which has identified the victim as Jeremy Wilson, age 23. The office says ID was confirmed by fingerprints, suggesting that Wilson's info was already in the system.

What happened? We've got the basics below.

At around 10:53 p.m., notes the Denver Police Department, officers responded to an address in the vicinity -- the DPD refers to it as the 2600 block of West 27th Avenue -- after receiving a shots-fired call.

There, they found Wilson, who was suffering from an apparent gunshot wound. He was transported to a nearby hospital, where he was pronounced dead.

They caught somebody, of course. The trial is next month, and after I testify I'll tell the story here. There will be pictures.

Breaking on the Fetushead beat

Commenter Peyton Manning on the Patriots/Ravens thread at AoS: "Stop making fun of me. It's called macrocephaly!"

Update: Such a careful blogger (see post below).

My underarms are itchy

And I vote!

(Previous celebration of participatory democracy here.)

Denver City and County Building, 20 April 2014, 4:20ish p.m.

Not exactly time-lapse, though time did of course lapse between shots--really really really slowly, but it did lapse.

You know what's fun? Say "lapse" to yourself like a hundred times in a row, really fast.

Lapselapselapselapselapselapselapselapse. . .

Lapselapselapselapselapselapselapse. . .

Lapselapselapsel--what was I talking about?

It was a wild scene, I would have said if it had been a wild scene, but it wasn't. The Post, which has tons of coverage, said "tens of thousands" were there; my guess was about 20,000. Whatever, corporatization had taken hold:

Updates later, maybe, if I don't forget.

Adventures in reading!

Alan Dershowitz, in his latest (?) book, Taking the Stand (2013): "Over the years several Holocaust deniers have challenged me to debate them on whether the Holocaust occurred. I have a standard answer:"

I will debate whether the Holocaust occurred but only as a part of a series of debates on the following subjects: Elvis Presley is alive and well; the space shuttle never landed on the moon; the earth is flat; and space aliens have made contact with lots of Americans.

Devastating!

GOMAD

The D-blog has always been a skinny little fuck. Splendidly proportioned, as all who know me readily admit, but still, a good 15 pounds underweight, according to this handy chart. That's why I'm always working out (just watch the first 38 seconds. I mean, 40 views since 2010! The world is cruel.) and eating hearty meals.

It doesn't work. So finally the other day I went looking on the interchubsy-ubsies (always the last resort around here), and practically the first thing that popped up was the GOMAD system for gaining weight. It's pretty amazing. In fact the GOMAD system, many scientists say, can result in weight gains of up to a pound a day.


But what is the GOMAD system, Mr. D-blog, honey?

GOMAD, an actual acronym, maybe, stands for Gallon Of Milk A Day. The idea behind it is simple: You drink a gallon of milk a day. Every day. Oh, and eat every three hours. And do lots of cinderblock squats. (Actually, if you look at the GOMAD url you'll see the phrase "milk squats," but I think you can substitute the cinderblock variety. Much less disgusting.)

Now, if you're like me (and you are, just funnier-looking), the first thing you thought on discovering what the GOMAD plan required was that you would never, ever be able to get the phrase "milk squats" out of your he--no, the first thing you thought was that drinking a gallon of milk a day can't be easy, especially if your mom isn't around to burp you*. But you, like me, were wrong. It is easy! Here's what the GOMAD site has to say about that:

• Easy. Liquid food is easier to get in than solid food and digests faster. Milk also needs zero preparation and is easy to take with you.

Portable, zero-prep milk! Easy! Now, what sort of milk should you drink? The folks at GOMAD don't keep you in suspense:

Which Milk to Use for GOMAD. Don’t waste your time with low fat, skimmed or half-skimmed milk. They’re lower in saturated fats & calories and won’t give the same results. Go with whole milk, it also tastes better.

And you'll GOMAD quicker. Among the benefits of GOMAD are, of course, "weight gain"; "strength gain"; "cheap" (the folks at GOMAD are not hung up on parallel bullet-point structure); and "Natural. Some say [see scientists linked above] that GOMAD works even better than steroids with beginners who want to gain weight fast." 

Better than steroids! And you only have to be "churned" once a week!

But Mr. D-blog, you future buttertub, won't GOMAD, used as directed, kill me?

No! Listen to GOMAD now!

Is GOMAD Safe? Yes. Or we wouldn’t feed babies milk. [Ever try to feed a baby a gallon of milk a day? Talk about your milk squats.] And even if milk wasn’t safe, you won’t do GOMAD the rest of your life. Once you got your goal weight – within 1-2 months – it’s back to a regular diet.

Even if milk wasn't safe. Wonder what he means by that? But if you're worried about kidney stones, don't be:

• Kidney Stones. You can find studies [see scientists linked above] showing that a high dietary calcium intake decrease the risk for kidney stones. It doesn’t increase it.

You probably weren't worried about kidney stones until now, were you?

*Your wife could do it, but won't.

'Gay and lesbian troops perform in drag on American military base'

Said The Week, and it looked something . . . like . . . this:


Dammit, the title gives it away. Yeah, and the still. Good movie tho, huh?

Seven or eight

(bumped from Feb. 8 because of newly added update IV. It's that important.)

If it's all the same to you, I'll take the gaspipe. The Post:

The founder and CEO of American Title Services in Centennial was found dead in his home this week, the result of self-inflicted wounds from a nail gun, according to the Arapahoe County coroner.

Richard Talley, 57, and the company he founded in 2001 were under investigation by state insurance regulators at the time of his death late Tuesday, an agency spokesman confirmed Thursday.

It was unclear how long the investigation had been ongoing or its primary focus.

A coroner's spokeswoman Thursday said Talley was found in his garage by a family member who called authorities. They said Talley died from seven or eight self-inflicted wounds from a nail gun fired into his torso and head.

Update: A loyal D-blog reader e-mails: "Yeah, why don'cha just take the gaspipe? G'wan, take it. Take it! TAKE THE GASPIPE!"

Update II: Alternate title for this post: "Torso and head."

Update III (15 February 2014): Another title: "Nailed it." Often I don't see what's right in front of me.

Update IV: Dictionary.com's weird definition of "Take the gaspipe":

"tv. and take the gas pipe. to commit suicide. (Originally by inhaling gas.): The kid was dropping everything in sight and finally took the pipe."

See, they change it from "take the gaspipe" to "take the pipe." These are very different phrases. Let's use each in a sentence:

1. Grampa took the pipe and puffed contendedly.

2. Grampa took the gaspipe and puffed contendedly.

Not the same thing at all. And what's this "(Originally by inhaling gas)" bizarreness? Are they trying to say that "take the gaspipe" now means, perhaps, drowning oneself? Jumping off a building? What? Dictionary.com does not explain.

Update V (3 March 2014): Too soon? Oh, and I never completely plumbed the strangeness of Dictionary.com's definition. Their sample sentence is creepily evocative, like an outtake from On the Waterfront:

Lee J. Cobb (to union flunky): What could I do? The kid was dropping everything in sight and finally took the pipe. Okay, maybe we helped him a little, but he took the pipe!

Update VI: You know who the kid reminds me of? Spider.

Untitled, and worth it

D-blog readers will not be surprised to learn that I've never made what you might call any money at all writing (or in recent years, not writing) this idiot blog (see Sam Johnson quote, above). So why do I do (in recent years, not do) it? Here's the truth which I just came up with: because I want to make God laugh. My reasoning, of course, is simple, so let me explain it in v--dialogue:

I'm dead, see, standing at the Pearly Gates. God and St. Peter are conferring over my file:

God (whispering): Jeez, what an asshole this guy was. I mean, look at this, it says right here that he picked his nose all the time and wiped the boogers on his dog.

St. Peter (disgustedly): Sir.

God: Yeah, that's some repugnant shit right there. Ah, here's a footnote. Apparently he wrote something once I thought was funny. Here it is. Oh, that's right! He's the guy who came up with the name "Fetushead" for Peyton Manning! Fetushead! Damn, that's still funny. I remember laughing my ass off about that for the rest of the . . .

St. Peter: Sir . . .

God: . . . day. Fetushead! It's funny 'cause it's . . .

St. Peter: Sir . . .

God: . . . true. What, Petey?

St. Peter: He didn't come up with it, Sir.

God: Huh?

St. Peter: He stole the name "Fetushead" from a commenter at another website.

God: Yeah?

St. Peter: Yes, Sir.

God: Huh. Still, pretty funny. Hell, let him in! (Fondly) Fetushead! Poor Peyton.

St. Peter (superciliously): Sir.

God: You'll take care of that?

St. Peter: Of course, Sir.

God: Good. Send Clemenza.

Update: For the record, I never, ever wiped a booger on Billy Bob except that one time when it was a matter of national security.

Top Pravda headlines

Right now!

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Brilliant actor Philip Seymour Hoffman dies shameful death

Catching up with . . .

Ward Churchill.  There's an interview of the gink by Joshua Frank at Counterpunch. It's long. Infinitely long. Literally infinitely long. Ward rehashes everything about his case, starting as he has so often with Bill Fuckin' O'Reilly, Sample graf:

Nah, not gonna do it. No more Ward. It's past time to move along. Infinitely past time. Literally infinitely past time. Instead, I'll just post the pic of Ward they used for the piece:

Looks like he colored out the gray stripe and had an ear reduction. Otherwise, unchanged.

There is one small piece of news in the interview: Ward and his attorney David Lane have filed a complaint about his long-zombified case with something called the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights. Mainly, it seems, so he can call himself a "human rights defender" while denying that he's doing so.

The Colorado Supreme Court sez

Go Broncos!


Dignity, always dignity.

Update: How to draw Peyton Manning.

Update II: Until now, the D-blog had not succumbed to the current fashion of referring to Mr. Manning, the Broncos' supremely talented quarterback, as "Fetushead." Just childish, he thought. In researching the matter, however, the D-blog found this photograph:

And not only is Mr. Manning a fetushead, but it looks like the doc got a little handy with the forceps in delivering him. The original caption, by the way, says Mr. Manning is snorting "smelling salts." Apparently it's a fetushead thing.

Update III: Product.

(Photo credits: the Internet)

Update IV: This game has not been edifying. Funniest comment (lots of funny ones, tho) over at AoS: "Well, at least a bunch of kids in Zimbabwe will be getting a free crate of 'World Champion Denver Broncos' shirts and hats."

Update V: Popup on the Denver Post's front page (Top headline: "Seasick"):

Yessir, this here's a real hardcover book. Don't see many of them 'round these parts, nosir. REAL hardcover. Feel a' that. Hardcover. Don't it feel nice? Stroke it once. Now hang on there sir! Did I say ten dollars off? I mean ten dollars, it's yours!

Update VI (9 February 2014): In England they spell it "Fœtushead."

Stoners brave morning light

To "score," in the parlance of today. This was the line outside a medicinal/retail pot shop called Citi-Med in south Denver about 10:30 on the first morning in history that common ordinary American citizens--people like Joe down the block, or your plumber Ernie, or Otto your kids' bus driver--were able to just walk into a--what was I talking about?

Actually we happened by on our way to a zestful and healthful New Year's Day walk around Washington Park, in case you were wondering, and I had to get some shots of the heepies queueing to buy legal weed.

 Heepies queueing to buy legal weed. Two-hour wait, people said.

Line didn't go around the block, but it went down it a good bit.

This guy was all like, "Happy New Year, dude!" 

The Post, of course, has gone full re--what was I talking about? Never mind, I'll just link to The Cannabist (pretentious gits) and leave it, for now, at that.

Update: As you might imagine, Jack Webb is not happy.