Thursday, March 20, 2014

Drunken Buffoon, Paranoid Old Bat,
Idiot Mayor: Another Appeal To Nihilism

Son-of-a-bitch (Yes it's all about me.) it's as if people are trying to make me explode, aided & abetted by ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®©.

Houston, like most other localities touched in any way by humanity, is a shit-hole. (Not mere uninformed half-cocked Bouffant opinion: Wasted several mos. of my existence there in 1970 & '71. I know.)

The mayor seems to be an idiot, but is of course merely pandering to the stupid & fearful among her constituents (That is, the majority.) by failing to call anyone on their actions:
Houston Mayor Annise Parker told KHOU that Keen took a cab home after a night of drinking to celebrate St. Patrick's Day.

He was asked to leave the bar so his friends put him in a cab, the station said.

"No one did anything wrong. It was just a confluence of events that provoked a tragedy," Parker said. "My understanding is that the firefighter, off-duty, had been out. He did what he was supposed to do: He took a cab ride home, got dropped off in the wrong place and wasn't aware of it. [He] tried to get into what he thought was his house and was tragically shot."
No, he got so fucking drunk he was "asked to leave the bar." (And let's absolutely blame the bar for serving him so much he was asked to leave. Figure that shit out. Greedy pigs.) Not "what he was supposed to do," whether or not he taxied home (Cabbie complicit in this? Was Drunkie O'Hoser dropped off in the wrong place? A field day for att'ys.) not "No one did anything wrong." No one did anything right. Is there no psychological testing for firefighters in that blighted burg?

(40+ yrs. ago it was a shit-hole about to get drunk on energy money, & as virtually nothing anywhere has improved in the interim, I'm going to assume energy money only made it worse.)
The woman told deputies the man kept trying to get into her home so she fired two shots through the door and then called 911.
Priorities, lady.

Also maybe if the sheep didn't buy/rent cookie cutter housing that a drunk can't differentiate. Crowded into your pens, lambs to the slaughter-stylee. Baaaaa!
So out of touch I'd no idea it's now known to the world as the Weeds theme song. (In all the horror & stupidity of these events we are encouraged that songstress Malvina Reynolds must've been almost as old as I am now when she wrote it. We can never protest enough.)

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