RDCanecutter

Hey Megyn, you could ditch.

So not a stripper.

She had just dealt with an arsonist. I reckon she figured that, being in Georgia, Droop-Eye would have called in a favor from Clan Sporkfoot to come rolling down from Marge's district. But yeah, this is Aggy-er than Aggy.

"In Georgia, Lowell received Paxtons demand for her patient’s medical information the day it was due. The physician’s mail had been stopped for weeks after an arsonist set fire to QueerMed, her gender-affirming care clinic. Her lawyers had to negotiate with Paxton’s office to get a one-week extension to review the letter. Lowell ultimately declined to turn over patient information." Surprised she even answered the droop-eyed lunatic.

Did he talk in a high whiny Tucker voice, or a low gruff narrating-a-truck-commercial voice? Because I can only respect a low gruff narrating-a-truck-commercial voice.

No pterodactyl? Soft-ass kids of today.

Y'all can laugh at Hobby Lobby, but when you really need an American flag constructed out of planks, with 5 stripes and 4 stars, yeah, you'll be back.

I'm gonna have to see your flag placement on your truck-boat-truck.

Make up some story about how Uncle Cletus of the Corps carried these dimes in his pocket as good luck charms during the 1939 season, maybe you can get Jimbo Buy-Out Money for them.

We get hippy eggs. It costs extra for all the Grateful Dead the chickens listen to. The mark-up could just be to pay the kid who takes regular factory eggs and dyes them shades of brown.

Yeah, about that sticker thing, I'll jump in for cartooning. I did illustrations for a 1990s UT French site that some of y'all might have used. The main character is my avatar, an armadillo who thinks he's French. The rest of the characters are still out there doing their thing: https://www.laits.utexas.edu/tex/gr/characters.html Obviously you might not want these exact ones. Just showing the style.

Spent the days before my latest scan filled with dread, convinced my luck had run out and I'd be full of goblins. But then I decided, "Fuck cancer, I'm gonna have a good day no matter what cancer wants to do." Saw the doc this morning, she handed me the report, and summed it up: "This was a GOOD scan." Nothing grew, some lesions even went down a little. I told her I posted on a football board where there was a cancer section and I'd share this good news. She wants me to tell all y'all fuckers to buck up, eat healthy, take your medicine, and be of good cheer. Now to avoid falling down the stairs.

We still talking about fraud any? In my International Career of Mystery I've seen a variety. -- regular-ass wormy scared student cheating, from traditional to online -- a drunken professor who confessed that he'd done his Doctoral thesis by copying one he'd found in East Germany -- Lying-ass research scientists who faked the data -- One colleague who supposedly was supposed to give a talk in the Czech Republic, I am convinced she pocketed the plane fare and stayed home -- Teacher development course approved by a Mexican university that probably didn't know their name was used, co-hosted by a PhD from one of @Mole's PO Box universities -- US Army-levels of lost, mis-used, disappeared supplies [EDIT]-- almost forgot all those scammerooni coding "Boot-Camps" that were a thing back a while ago, untrained instructors, sunshine-pumping, fictional hiring stats... those still a thing? -- One case of printing up a fake transcript and making a notary seal on it by whacking a shoe on a commemorative coin (OK that one was me)

This clip is not some critique of academia by practical businessmen. This is a bit of play-acting created by all sorts of people. English major script writers. Drama school actors who had to audition against hordes of competitors but who are wired not to care. Careful competent technical crew. Financing and distribution by business types, promotion by art and marketing people. Rodney himself is doing a bit, he's imitating an imaginary self-made man of business, when he actually accomplished something far harder-- making a living as a comedian. The clip is a variation of the pie in the face of the snobby character. We like Rodney for that. The MG abuse (is that a real MG?) is inexcusable.

Damn woke FBI.

I'm afraid your French is most excessively full of French words, old man. You do know that Johnnie Froggy will hop to good plain English, if shouted clearly.

Too many French and Latin words. Also, starting questions with "do" seems to be a trait adopted from ancient Welsh/Brythonic. I'll not abide it. "Need we", by Thor!

Anybody at UT in the late-90s remember a small pick-up truck that would be parked between the Co-op and the original 6-pack that was covered in sniper stickers and assorted tough guy shit? Wonder where that dude is now. But don't run-- you'll only die tired.

It's shit like this that keeps the rest of us from just walking across to see the Donkey Show.

I bet your wife is gonna do great. I used to hate going to the doctor and maybe hearing about something new. Now I'm like "What's the recon report, let's hunt it down and kill it." In an odd way I am grateful to cancer. Before it, I kind of shuffled along doing stuff I didn't like, because that's what we do. I didn't take a stab at things I really wanted to do that weren't "practical." Post-cancer, I had the power to say "Fuck that shit, I ain't doin' it, I got cancer," and then I was a free man. Oddly started making more $ doing the non-practical stuff. Funny world. The thing is, things that seem horrible when you first imagine them, when they land on you, you just deal with it. What helped me at first was seeing all the old-ass Stage 4 patients at treatment, some of them had been plugging along for 20-30 years with primitive treatments, just putting one foot in front of the other. Now we've got good stuff, and we'll get better stuff tomorrow and the next day. Give her a hug. She's gonna do great.

And how much of that increase in teaching staff is one tenured professor retiring, and being replaced by 2-3 new adjunct gig-workers?

Powers down to conserve batteries.

It wasn't Les Amis, but for a while in the late 90s in Hyde Park there was a cafe that thought itself French. I was like, cool, you're French? Lemme get a Ricard. (Ricard, acquired taste, 90 proof, usually served in very small glass with ice cube.) The bartender there would pour it into a wine glass, like a quadruple shot at least. 5 bucks. D'you member? I member.

Well shit. Turns out I was in Quemado years ago going from Del Rio to Eagle Pass. Stopped long enough at the BP checkpoint to prove I wasn't Russian. Remember it looked like an oasis compared to the wasteland I'd been driving through. Wonder if that checkpoint is still there.