March 18, 2016

Feather-Boa-and-Platform-Heel-Wearin' Fag-wa's get fit of the vapors..

I posted this as a comment over on the new HotGas.Com as a response to the Australian and Russkies going apoplectic at the prospect of Donald Trump being elected president. But, hey, bats gotta swim and sharks gotta fly and I gotta rant. it just me or are the formerly macho countries in this world shrinking in the face of The Donald? I mean, we have the Kremlin gasping like wounded debutantes about how Trump "demonizes" them in his 30-second ad and then the country whose national song eulogizes a homeless guy rustling a sheep and committing suicide rather than be taken alive by there authorities are both having a fit of the vapors?

Really? Really?

Let's flash back to the Cold War, fellow babies, and recall how many enemies of the Soviet state were incarcerated in a dank cell, subjected to questionable star chamber proceedings, then escorted down to the basement of the Kremlin, forced to kneel down and dispatched with a round to the brain stem from some Lieutenant's Makarov. Otherwise, they were sent to the not-so-exotic East and made to labor in the work camps in Siberia and fed on wormy dark bread and fish-eye soup. (Hey, I saw the movie One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich too.) Also, prior to this, these were the folks who stared down Hitler's Wehrmacht, gave up a million square miles of their own homeland, and fought the mightiest army in Europe to a standstill in some frozen backwater burg with a military that issued one rifle to TWO soldiers and flew biplanes against the Luftwaffe?

Either alternative to rebelling against the state were at the hands of cold, cruel, calculating, deliberate individuals who did not let a whole lot of emotion get in their way. Also, their military were equally ominous: given half the opportunity, they would have turned our country into a smoking pile of glowing rubble. (Hey, I know. I saw Dr Strangelove and also wrote the software and supported the SIOP that helped is keep these packs of slavering hounds at bay. But I never ate fish eye soup.)

And then there's always our mates down under. I mean, like, you know? Crocodile Dundee who goes out into the Outback and wrestles giant, man-eating reptiles with only a knife. ("Naw, mate, that's a knife!") Even their tennis heroes (Rod Laver) exuded testosterone, fer crissakes! All of a sudden, the whole lot of 'em are donning their tutus and toe shoes and becoming a bunch of vapor-locking flouncing nancies? Breaker Morant? Gallipoli? The ANZAC? The fight in the Desert with their British mates stopping Rommel?

Hey, the Aussies and Russkies (O.K., Soviets) used to cart their cajones around in wheel barrows they were so big. Now, I am afraid they can keep 'em in match boxes -- because they surely have had them shorn off by the limp-dick liberals running their country (in the case of Oz) and, (in the case of the country formerly known as The USSR) who knows how the hell Putin feels about this. Maybe he does not wrestle bears after all.

So, dunno what to say about this. I mean these two countries used to walk the world stage and elicited fear, dread, and admiration because of the hair on their chests and under their armpits and even in their crotch.

Maybe now they're all lining up for a bikini-wax in their feather boas and platform heels.

On the other hand, maybe The Donald's really our man!



  1. World diplomacy isn't ready for someone who says what he thinks. They like Obama, Clinton, and Kerry lies. It's what they're used to after all.

  2. Odie,

    So good to hear from you! Just so you know: the feather-boa-and-platfrom-heels mantra comes mainly from the pictures you posted on your site back in the old days -- particularly the one of that old fairy mincing across the SF street in the sequined panties and high heels.

    Will visit as I get more active. We have a revolution to start!