Come for the politics, stay for the snark.

Usually wrong but never in doubt

We are builders in a constant struggle with destroyers. let’s win this.

Let’s not be the monsters we hate.

We still have time to mess this up!

If you tweet it in all caps, that makes it true!

The next time the wall street journal editorial board speaks the truth will be the first.

When I decide to be condescending, you won’t have to dream up a fantasy about it.

Insiders who complain to politico: please report to the white house office of shut the fuck up.

The GOP couldn’t organize an orgy in a whorehouse with a fist full of 50s.

The GOP is a fucking disgrace.

Optimism opens the door to great things.

… pundit janitors mopping up after the GOP

We are aware of all internet traditions.

You don’t get to peddle hatred on saturday and offer condolences on sunday.

This blog will pay for itself.

You can’t attract Republican voters. You can only out organize them.

I see no possible difficulties whatsoever with this fool-proof plan.

A thin legal pretext to veneer over their personal religious and political desires

Republicans are radicals, not conservatives.

I’ve spoken to my cat about this, but it doesn’t seem to do any good.

Shallow, uninformed, and lacking identity

But frankly mr. cole, I’ll be happier when you get back to telling us to go fuck ourselves.

You cannot shame the shameless.

Today’s GOP: why go just far enough when too far is right there?

You are here: Home / Archives for Open Threads / Because of wow.

Because of wow.

Respite Open Thread: Happy Birthday, Lily Tomlin

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A patron saint for this, our moment in time…

“No matter how cynical you become, it’s never enough to keep up.”

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Monday Morning Open Thread: Because of Wow

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For this brief moment, let us celebrate the wonder…


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And a slightly belated Eid Mubarak! to our Muslim readers…

Monday Morning Open Thread: Because of WowPost + Comments (91)

All That’s Missing From This Story Is an Alligator, a Golf Cart, and Several Kilos of Cocaine: Approaching Peak Floriduh! Man

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Welcome to the Gunshine State!

Is that a GLOCK in your orgy party outfit pocket or are you just happy to see me?

Take it away Daytona Beach News-Journal!

A 9 mm Glock was taken from a bedroom during a sex party, in which guests wore masks during the orgy and were encouraged to use code names, deputies say

A handgun was swiped from a Deltona home during a weekend sex party and the gun owner couldn’t give detectives any names of possible suspects because the culprit — like the 20 or so other guests at the party — was wearing a mask, deputies said.

“We’re probably not going to solve this one,” Volusia County Sheriff’s Sgt. Todd Smith said during a public meeting Thursday. “And DNA (identification) is not going to be an option.”

The 9 mm Glock was holstered and lying on top of a nightstand in the master bedroom when it was stolen, the homeowner told deputies. It was taken during an orgy, in which the theme was anonymous sex, according to a report.

Guests who were invited to the party near Saxon Boulevard were encouraged to “come and go as they pleased” throughout the weekend and were told to bring friends and acquaintances if they so desired, the report stated.

Additionally, guests were told to use fictitious names or no name at all, the homeowner told the Sheriff’s Office.

The orgy took place July 19-21 and deputies were contacted a few days later. On July 26, the detective assigned to the case called the homeowner for more information, but he seemed “apprehensive” about giving further details.

The homeowner eventually told the detective that 20 or so people were in his house that weekend and he guessed that he only knew five or six of them, the report stated.

The party was advertised on a social media site, deputies said.

All this needed to achieve peak Floriduh! Man is an alligator, a golf cart, and several kilos of cocaine!

Open thread!

All That’s Missing From This Story Is an Alligator, a Golf Cart, and Several Kilos of Cocaine: Approaching Peak Floriduh! ManPost + Comments (78)

I Have Many, Many Questions: Cosmetic Surgery Gone Awry Edition

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I realize that mine was done as part of a religious ritual when I was 8 days old, but I would think that if you’re chatting with the nurses and technicians while getting botox and you notice that they’re not giving you any injections in your face, but they are manipulating other tender portions of your anatomy, you might ask what exactly is going on!!!

A pensioner circumcised by mistake after going to a hospital for a procedure involving botox has been handed £20,000 compensation by the NHS.

Terry Brazier was given the procedure after medics at Leicester Royal Infirmary mixed up his notes.

Mr Brazier claims he was so distracted chatting to nurses he didn’t realise he was getting a different procedure until it was too late.

Speaking to the Daily Star he said: “I went in the surgery for some Botox and they ended up circumcising me.

“They didn’t know what to say when they found out they’d done it, they said they can’t send me back to the ward and they needed to talk to me.

“The nurse was at the side of me and we were talking so I didn’t know what was going on.

“It was a real surprise.”

Andrew Furlong, Medical Director at University Hospitals of Leicester, said: “We remain deeply and genuinely sorry that this mistake occurred, and I would like to take this opportunity to once again apologise to Mr Brazier.

“We take events like this very seriously and carried out a thorough investigation at the time to ensure that we learnt from this incident and do all we can to avoid it happening again.

“Whilst money can never undo what happened, we hope this payment provides some compensation.”

“When they found out they’d done it?”

What is that even supposed to mean? He got circumcised because the medical professionals working on him were undertaking sleep surgery? Because they went on break for a cuppa and a mohel just happened to walk by, had his bris kit with him, and decided to undertake an unscheduled bris?

I guess this could have been much, much worse given the area they actually wound up operating on, but really?

Remember to mark your body parts pre-op or risk an unhappy ending!

Open thread!*

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Monday Morning Open Thread: Expect the Unexpected

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Because it’s a holiday for most of us, here’s something genuinely nice and uplifting to start the day. From the Washington Post‘s book section, “He quit the NFL for a career in math”:

John Urschel has heard it a lot: “You’re that football player who’s really smart.” It’s an accurate description — Urschel, a former offensive lineman for the Baltimore Ravens, is a doctoral candidate in mathematics at MIT — but that description makes him wince.

Instead, he offers this: “I’m looking forward to being considered that mathematician who used play football.”

In July of 2017, Urschel retired from the NFL after three seasons. He hasn’t played football since. Not even a casual game in the park? Nope. “This isn’t something my friends and I do for fun,” he says.

Besides, Urschel has been busy with something else — his memoir, “Mind and Matter.” Written with his wife, journalist Louisa Thomas, the book chronicles his life in both sports and academics and explains how and why, in the end, he chose math over football. Yes, it had something to do with concussions, but that’s not all of it…

When asked what he likes to do for fun, his immediate answer is, “math!” He carries a notepad with him just in case he’s struck by an idea. He wanted his first book to be a pure math book, and at signings he’s been known to inscribe the memoir he ended up writing with “fun integrals” and “important constants” that he’s excited to explain to anyone who wants to geek out with him.

Urschel grew up in Buffalo. His parents, who separated when Urschel was 3, encouraged his two-track learning from an early age. His mother, a nurse-turned-lawyer, urged him to pursue his interests in math with games and puzzles, and later advanced course work. “If I am a true outlier,” he writes in his book, “it is because of her — an African-American single mother who loved math but was discouraged from it, who wanted me never to feel that any door was closed to me.” His father, a thoracic surgeon and former linebacker at the University of Alberta, pushed him academically, too. But he was also concerned about his son’s conditioning, and his time with young Urschel involved visits to the gym as well as to the library…

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Terrifying (Excellent) Long Read: “The Night the Lights Went Out”

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Via Dave Fahrenheit’s twitter feed, for Deadspin:

… All I remember is waking up in a fog with a bunch of tubes sticking out of me and thinking it was the morning after the awards. I also remember thinking that I was in the hospital because I had somehow gotten into a fistfight and lost. Someone—I don’t remember who—informed me that this was not the case. Then they gave me a topline summary of my injury, along with the day’s date. I found myself first in disbelief, and then morbidly amused. I may have even chortled.

But now that I know more details about what happened, I am less amused and more extremely freaked out. I wasn’t awake for all the scary parts of my injury, but everyone I loved was. When I finally came to, I could see the fear and terror still in their eyes, even after the worst had passed. I could see it in the eyes of my poor mom and dad, who sat vigil at my bedside every day after surgery, praying for me to wake up. I could see it in the faces of my brother and sister, who did likewise. I could see it in the faces of my friends and of my co-workers, who quite literally saved my life and were then informed that I would likely be hospitalized for months before I could walk out into the light of day. Not a single month, as it turned out to be. Months.…

… I find myself in a strange situation where people I love were traumatized and devastated by what happened to me, but I—the dude who actually suffered the injury—fell into a two-week time warp before waking up strapped to a gurney: emaciated, woozy, confused, and irritable. I’m left to reverse engineer my own trauma by talking to my loved ones, poring over dry-ass medical charts, and checking notes that my wife kept throughout the whole ordeal, notes that I can’t bear to read. For as long as I live on, I owe it to my family and friends and colleagues to fully appreciate the fact that I somehow didn’t die, and that they saved me. I feel shitty that they had to go through that. I feel bad that I let my brain explode. When I recounted my injury to a nurse practitioner at the MinuteClinic the other week, her jaw dropped. “You’re so lucky you’re alive, you have no idea.”…

I cheated death, and now the Reaper has a chit for my head that he can cash in any time he likes. I now know firsthand that he doesn’t always telegraph his arrival. I was blindsided. When I was young, I thought nothing could kill me. I know I’m old now because I believe that everything can kill me, including just going to a work shindig. I have the receipts to prove it.

There may come a day when I can recover some of the memories I lost from this whole episode, but I’d prefer that day never come. I try not to think about what happened to me, but I do every day…

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