Target-It’s More Than Stuff Made in China

    Well, not a lot more.  But, more.

    I love going to Target, even though they’ve prostrated themselves to the Social Justice gods and allow all manner of freaks to use whichever bathroom they choose.  Plus, that dog with the red bullseye kinda creeps me out.  Not as much as that pedophilic Burger King, but still… 

    Sort of like an upscale Walmart (which itself is a “Discount Target”), it offers a vast array of quality products at bargain prices.   Unlike Walmart, though, it’s remarkably mullet-free and you don’t have near the same chance of blundering into a stray cloud of some indeterminate gas.  Plus, most customers actually have a full set of teeth.  And pants.

NOTE: One of the benefits of this mask hysteria is that, at both Walmart and Target, the ugly people now have their faces covered by face diapers. To me, not a completely bad thing. Remember that the next time you see that hot girl in the banana section. She may be buck-toothed.

    Whether the latest in books, video equipment, sporting goods, Gorilla Glue, or household appliances, Target has most of what I need.  It’s my number one destination when I can’t afford to go anywhere remotely interesting.  What’s more, four weeks before Valentines Day, they’re already selling Easter cards. 

    Plus, as I discovered this week after wandering past the frozen foods section in search of fat-free Tostinos with extra cheese (HINT:  there aren’t any), I noticed they also offer a generous assortment of toilet paper.

    NOTE:  I originally wrote in “huge,” but went with “generous.”  Mostly because of the whackos who cleaned the shelves out last year at the beginning of the Chinese Flu.  At any rate, the selection is still bigger than you’d find in Europe, South America, or San Francisco.

    Wedged between a disturbingly diverse selection of adult diapers (Joe Biden and Hillary Clinton must be customers) and a paper plate display large enough for a typical Mormon family, Target’s wall of bathroom tissue (a euphemism if there ever was one) was most impressive.

    It contained more paper than the Library of Congress.  If the books in the Library of Congress were written on little sheets of paper which dissolved in water.

    Speaking off…I usually take perverse pleasure in moving any book by the Obamas, Hillary, or Idiot Joe to the bathroom tissue aisle.  But, I digress…

    In addition, there was a dizzying variety from several manufacturers.  This puzzled me.  After all, I would think the basic design wouldn’t change all that much from paper to paper.  Then again, I never received a business degree.

    One of our most basic needs, toilet paper has been around for centuries.  Or at least since I was born.  Frankly, I couldn’t care less what people used before 1958.  Or before I was potty-trained, if we’re being honest.

    They could have used slow moving midgets, for all I cared.

    Still, imagine what life was like before its invention:

    “Zook, me need drop big load.  Bring bush over here.  And give something read.  Like painting on rock.”  

    NOTE:  For Entertainment Use only.  Cavemen clearly did not speak English.

    Even when folks came out of their mud huts to build the pyramids (my history may be sketchy on this point), all they had to use when they wanted to take care of “business” was the available leaf, corn cob, or serf.  Not a lot of fun.  Especially for the serf.

    It was only when the last page of the last Sears catalog was used did it occur to someone not named Edison to take the same material we used to blow our nose a little further south. 

    I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not opposable thumbs, Twitter, or televisions above urinals which sets us apart from the beasts of nature. Or Antifa.

    It’s potty paper.

    Incidentally, I know what bears do in the woods.  I don’t care how cute and cuddly they are, they most certainly do not use anything on a roll when they do it.

    HINT:  They shit.  You’re welcome.

    So why do we hawk toilet tissue using spectacle-wearing bears walking around with bits of paper clinging to their shaggy behinds?  Babies I can buy despite the fact all they’ll do is eat the paper.  But, c’mon, a bear would prefer to use a slow camper than two-ply unscented.

    While we’re at it, I also saw pictures of puppies adorning a few of the packages.  Now, I’ve owned several dogs throughout my life.  Not once did I hear them complain that nobody changed the roll or “who took the newspaper!?”

    As I further pondered Target’s collection, I noticed a confusing assortment from which to choose.  Specifically, Charmin’ offers “Ultra-Soft” and “Ultra-Strong.”

    You tell me, which would you prefer?  “Ultra-Soft” so you don’t scrape hard enough to expose colon?  Or “Ultra-Strong” so you don’t run the risk of giving yourself a prostate exam?  I don’t know about you, but I would think Charmin’ could easily combine the two.  As long as it’s perfumed.

     Which is something that corn cobs, midgets, or those fancy-pants serfs with their Bubonic Plague never were.

Epilogue:  In case you were wondering, our toilet paper is American made.  No sense of running the risk of rubbing some COVID up our bums.  Plus, apparently, there’s still some national pride left.

USA!  USA!  USA!   

What You Know. What You Can Prove.

                Probably most importantly?  Being allowed to present what you know in court.

                By now, all the talking heads are losing their collective heads over the events of the past week.  No one is excusing the horror show which happened in Washington, D.C.  on January 6th.  No one should.  It was an act of barbaric lawlessness, the likes of which I never thought I’d see in my country.  It will be a very long time before I get the image of that criminal fool with the buffalo horns standing at the Speaker’s chair.

                Of course, I realize much worse was inflicted on our cities this summer.  I’m also old enough to remember the 1960s.  But, in the Capitol building

                Yet, there are those who, while certainly not excusing what went on, are lamenting that peaceful Trump supporters were infiltrated by worthless scum from Antifa and BLM.  Scum who whipped protesters into a feral  frenzy that resulted in the tragic deaths of five people.

                I will not go so far as to say I agree with them.  However, I will say that I would not be surprised if it actually happened.  I just don’t think that proof is forthcoming.

                And that is the problem.  That has been the dilemma throughout the tumult of the past couple of months.  I (and I’m not alone) know that something smells about the election and the efforts to cover up what went wrong.  The problem is, can I prove it?  And, can those who purport to have the proof, be allowed their day in court?

                    I am convinced that common sense, logic, and critical thought have long since left the building.  Starting with the hysterical approach to the Chinese Flu all the way to how could a doddering old fool who couldn’t draw flies to a picnic be elected president, it boggles the mind.

            “Never let a crisis go to waste.”  That is exactly what tyrants like Governor Tom Wolf of Pennsylvania did with the pandemic and mail-in voting.

                Mind you, Donald Trump has done himself no favors here.  I didn’t support him in the primaries and held my nose when I voted for him 2016 (yes, Hillary Clinton was that bad).  Over the past four years, I wished he would just shut up on more than one occasion.  He can give the impression that he’s a narcissistic bully.  Not saying that I think he is, but he can put out that vibe.

                Through it all, though, I felt the nation was in good hands, despite the infantile whining by butthurt Democrats and the Machiavellian machinations by Obama and his ilk.  However, when the election of 2020 didn’t look like it was going his way (seriously, could this year have sucked enough?), he launched into a non-stop tirade about how it was all rigged against him.

                In my heart, I know this to be true.  But…can I prove it?  Or can those who purport to have the proof, be allowed to show it to a judge?  No.  And no.

                It sucks.  Trust me, it sucks. 

                Taking all this into consideration, though, he refuses to go gently into that good night, determined to fight on.   The result is that he is doing very real damage to his party’s prospects for 2024 and, maybe, 2022.  Chillingly, I’d be surprised at this point if he’d even get the Republican nomination in four years.

                If that was the case, I also wouldn’t be surprised if he formed his own party as a counter to the Republicans, when he would take many with him.  The last time this happened was in 1912 when Teddy Roosevelt formed the Bull Moose Party and ran against the Republican, Taft.

                The result?  Woodrow Wilson.

                To sum up, I agree with much of what he says (not necessarily how he says it) and feel the helplessness that so many feel.  But, to paraphrase a quote from Animal House, “War’s over, men.  The Democrats dropped the big one.”

                Only there’s no Bluto to decry Germans bombing Pearl Harbor.

                My point is, realize that the GOP was screwed (once again…proof) and dust yourself off in preparation for days to come.  Also realize that, for many of you, there is nothing that you can do about it.  Work locally to effect change nationally.

                Losing yourself in the rabbit hole of angst and despair which is the Internet will do you no good.  Live your lives, love your family, friends, and those you hope can be more. 

                There is a tomorrow.

Better You Should Clip Your Nails

                I saw Wonder Woman 1984 the day after Christmas.  While I certainly would not have been afraid of going to an actual movie theater to see it, I actually watched it on HBOMax on someone else’s dime.

                Boy howdy, am I glad I did so.  No, I’m not glad I viewed it.  No, I’m glad because I didn’t waste  any money on a ticket (along with the obligatory popcorn and soda).  I didn’t have any turkey for Christmas this year.  Or so I thought.

                Let’s put it this way, Wonder Woman 1984 makes Green Lantern look like Gone With the Wind.

                And that’s saying a lot.

                Where do I begin?  While the following are my impressions on this “film,” I’ve read similar complaints.  So, either a whole bunch of us are crankypants lunatics or there’s something to our crankiness.

                The beginning starts off with an Olympic-style (Olympics because…oh figure it out yourselves) competition between a group of Amazons.  And a ten-year-old Diana Prince.  Why was she the only child?  I don’t know.  Maybe because she’s a superhero?  Or the daughter of the HAIC (Head Amazon In Charge)?  Or maybe because…oh, shut up, you misogynist hater.

                This overly long “oh-my-God kill me contest” starts with the ladies (yes, I didn’t fail to notice the tight costumes.  Sue me.  Except on the ten-year-old.  Ewww.) jumping off telephone poles then proceeds to jumping in the water, swimming to shore, leaping on horses, shooting arrows through hula hoops, and dashing about like an estrogen Chinese fire drill.

                Just when some people thought Diana would win, it turns out that she cheated (she should work for Joe Biden).  So, the lesson here is…uh…you have to earn what you get.  Nothing is just given to you.  I think it has something to do that getting your wish without working can turn out horribly.  I think.

                Fairly pointless lead in, if you ask me.  The thing is?  It was the best part of the movie. 
                Anyway, we next jump to 1984.  Why?  Well, believe me, this “film” needs a gimmick.  Too bad that, apart from very few instances, the 80s really don’t much factor into this besides workout clothes, fanny packs, and desktops.  Waste of a decade, if you ask me.     That honor more properly belongs to the 70s, to be honest.

                Wonder Woman busts up a jewelry store robbery in plain sight of dozens of people (hmm…but I thought she told Bruce Wayne/Batman in Batman v Superman that she just laid low after WWI…really coulda used her against Hitler.  That bitch).

                Well, one of the items recaptured in the robbery is a crystal thing (called a “Dildo Stone” in the Critical Drinker’s review of the movie.  Look it up on You Tube.  Pretty damn funny).  It grants wishes to whoever…uh…wishes something.  One of Diana’s coworkers , Barbara, wishes she could be more like Diana.  More on that later.

                We learn later (mucccccchhhhhhh later) that it was created by a “Trickster god.”  One would naturally think Loki, but we can’t mention Loki because Loki is a Marvel property (fuck Norse mythology).  DON’T MIX UP YOUR EXTENDED UNIVERSES!!!  Nerd.

                Because she has an itch which needs scratching, Diana wishes that she could see Steve Trevor again, the man she loved who blew himself to bits in Wonder Woman (a much better movie, one that I enjoyed).  And who bombed in Star Trek:  Beyond (but that’s another story).

                Well, before you can say “What the f…”, Steve pops up in the body of some schmuck who apparently was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  The simian-like writers could have had Steve magically appear without resorting to a body-snatcher like plot device.  Why not?  Suspension of belief and common sense had long since left the room by that time.  But, hey, who cares if we just take over the body of a man without his consent?  Especially since he’s a man.

                Enter the villain, Max Lord.  Some people said he was modeled on Donald Trump, but I didn’t see it.  If nothing else, the fact that he evolves into a more sympathetic character at the end convinces me that no way the director/aforementioned simians would have done that.  Unless they were idiots.  Oh.  Wait.

                Max wishes for business success and all the power available to him.  Only he begins to exhibit physical failings (one of the drawbacks to getting your wish is that you lose something of yourself.  Whatever).

                Speaking of losing something, Diana realizes she’s losing her powers now that she gets to boink Steve Trevor while in the body of another man.  Without his permission (NOTE:  okay, time to be a pig, but not for nothin’ I gotta think the possessed dude would’ve been okay with bedding Gal Gadot.  Just saying.).

                This means that WW realizes she must renounce her boytoy in order to confront Max and Cheetah (back to Barbara, who all of a sudden becomes this super-sexy badass who will eventually assume a ludicrous CGI cheetah look.  Uhhhhh…..).

                Before that…Diana and Steve decide to steal a fully-fueled and otherwise ready to go jet aircraft from the Smithsonian Institution so they can catch Max in Egypt.  They do so because Steve flew biplanes in World War I.  Naturally, he can handle a supersonic fighter.

                My son asked me if that could actually happen.  I told him no.  No, it couldn’t.

                As they are being targeted for capture, Diana all of a sudden remembers that she has this power to make things invisible.  Voila!  Invisible jet.  Yes, I know an invisible jet was in the comics, but WTF?

                After the invisible jet is cleared to land in Cairo (at the very least, a flight plan wasn’t filed), Diana and Steve miraculously find Max on a road and yay ACTION!  Ludicrous action, but action.  Which bored me.  So maybe not so “yay.”

                Well, Max gets away so Diana uses a pay phone on an Egyptian street to call the United States!  Not for the first time, I throw the bullshit flag.  I was overseas…in Egypt among other places…and NO WAY could this have happened.

                Following the phone call with some Mayan type of researcher back in DC, off they wing it back home.
                NOTE:  Apparently, the apes who wrote this thing subscribe to the same “Time/Space/Distance” theory that their fellow chimpanzees adhered to in Game of Thrones, Season 8.  By the way, if you haven’t seen GOT, Season 8, good for you.    

                 Blah, blah, blah, ridiculous fight scene in the White House where things happen that no way could have happened even if the President was a doddering old numbskull (this really could have taken place in 2021).  Barbara, now Cheetah (I think) kicks the crap out of Wonder Woman (because naturally) and Max steals a helicopter to go to some secret Army/Air Force (who cares?) base so he could speak to the entire world (because that’s a thing).  Cheetah (of course) hitches a ride and off they go.

                Immediately following this dustup, Wonder Woman wishes Steve away and off he goes leaving the body he had inhabited the past few days wondering, “How the fuck did I get here?  Whew!  I knew I should’ve stopped drinking when I…and why is my penis sore?”

                With Steve gone, Wonder Woman’s powers come flooding back (proving you don’t need men, ladies) and she takes off via latching onto clouds, an airliner (I think), and lightning bolts with her lasso (didn’t know that was possible).  Then, just when you thought you had seen everything, she starts flying (yeah, woulda come in mighty handy in Justice League).

                She grabs a suit of armor that she had just laying around her apartment (it was probably an 80s thing) and off she goes to find Max (how she knew exactly where he was is never explained).  When she arrives at the base (no invisible jet, she just flew I suppose), she fights the now CGI buff Cheetah in the most idiotic looking fight sequence I’ve seen since…well…ever.

                Luckily for the fans of WW, she defeats Cheetah when a power line conveniently  drops into the water in which they’re fighting.  Cheetah is electrocuted, but doesn’t die (because I guess that’s a thing, too) and Diana remains unscathed (hooray, plot armor!).

                Wonder Woman barges into the studio where Max is speaking to the entire world.  In English.  To the entire world.  Alrighty then.  She tries to overcome this madman, but is rebuffed by…wind (might I remind the reader that this is the same woman who took a head butt…from Superman).

                Oh no, if she can’t do this, the world will end (much like the Georgia Senate races)!

                Eventually, though, through the power of persuasion (and boobs probably) she convinces the world to renounce all their wishes (NOTE:  I gotta tell you, if I had a million dollars drop in my lap, I’d have to give that a hard no, apocalypse notwithstanding).

                Voila!  Max becomes becomes good, Barbara becomes good, the world didn’t end, and Steve Trevor stayed dead.  Probably a mixed bag, I’d guess.

                Basically, this movie is pretty much a retelling of the classic story, Monkey’s Paw.  Except this one was written by actual monkeys.

                On the whole, I’d rather clip my toenails than put myself through this thing again.  There were bright spots, true.  Even though kind of wasted, Chris Pine and Pedro Pascal put in pretty decent performances (by the way, Pedro Pascal played a character in Game of Thrones, even though his character was kinda wasted there, too.  Coincidence?

                And the ending credits scene was pretty cool in a Marvel kind of way.

                Special effects?  Even when they were CGI, the special effects looked like they belonged in 1984.  On Saturday morning cartoons. 

                The editing process made no sense and had the viewers jump from here to there, with no explanation or lead-up given.

                Plus, does anyone buy Kristen Wiig as a sexpot?  Hahahaha.  Sure, she’s no “Throw Momma From the Train” woman or Hillary Clinton, but as an evil yin to Gal Gadot’s yang?  I repeat…hahahahaha.

                Overall, I’d rate Wonder Woman 1984 as a pile of hot garbage.  I’d rate it as just ‘garbage,’ but the leading role was played by Gal Gadot.

                And that woman is hot!