The long-time mayor of Talkeetna has passed on. We were up there three years ago. It’s the base for the aircraft that land on the glaciers in Denali.
She tried it. As she writes, it not only didn’t end well, it didn’t even begin well. Cruel, but hilarious.
It’s bad, and people who drink it are bad. Someone after my own heart.
This is pretty funny. NASA calls BS on it.
My first thought on seeing this was, “Why would I want a damaged screw remover? Just to save a little money?”
Behold the leftist angst over having a barbecue in proximity to a fake hunger strike.
My neighbor of a few blocks away is whining about his victimhood:
I am also victimized for my unpaganhood, and I am constantly pressured to conform and accept weird weather religions and the theological musings of internet hipsters who think the idea of Christian grace is some sort of supernatural point system where you get into heaven for accomplishing a set number of good deeds. I reject these attempts to subjugate me to the dominant discourse, just as I reject the liberal Jesusplaining that seeks to steal my savior and turn him into some sort of socialist hippie, a Bernie Sanders in a robe who thinks the only sin is generating too big of a carbon footprint.
And then there is the systemic hate for my rigidly male monosexual identification and my pronounced pro-chick agenda. Too often those of you who are genderfluid deny the identity of those of us who are gendersolid.