Getting Comfortable

Left one behind in Maryland.

Left one behind in Wisconsin.

Another in Iowa.

There’s got to be another one waiting for the eventual return to blissful re-re-re-re-re-retirement in South Carolina.

The job in Okie came with a furnished trailer, if I recall, so there’s probably no new recliner there…

So I figure if the inbred DUMBFUCK twins are 99% moved in to their palatial 2BR/1BA apartment on 9th St, the missing one percent is…

shelter cats to abandon later.

I hope he’s letting them keep the recliners, at least.

UPDATE: Look what I found!

Just living his best life up there in the LATE STAGE ELEVENTY Parkinson’s-exacerbating, lifespan-shortening cold of the northern Montana plains. He seems to have no trouble risking a potentially fatal slip-and-fall in the oh-so-frigid winter to hop in his car

wait – didn’t the Parkinson’s FORCE him to quit driving and give up his driver’s license? Maybe his employers should be told about this

and bop out to the local karaoke bar either.

And for a guy who was FORCED to retire because he could no longer speak to produce podcasts for the NIH, the same guy who went on to create hundreds of failed FREE-THIRTY-DAY-TRIAL-PERIOD internet radio stations and podcasts of his own, who has spent most of the last two years retiring

I mean getting fired

and un-retiring

I mean scamming micromarket radio stations without the resources to do proper background checks

from various live radio gigs…

A guy who relocates with the frequency of a really bad con man

(or a Parkinson’s patient who can’t find a neurologist not named Grill to treat him)

A guy who makes much of his proclivity for both cigars and brown liquor

two vices generally forbidden to the average late stage Parkinson’s patient 

The claim that he has Parkinson’s disease, by his own words and deeds, is looking more and more like a malicious lie every single day.

And if that jackass would like to file a defamation claim, oh by all means DO.


Good Golly, Miss Molly!!

Well, if his conscience hadn’t forced him to quit just before he got fired in October, this surely would have been the last straw:

Dana Loesch joining the Five State Big Talker in Guymon, OK!




Now, this could mean “She’s in the shower hosing off the accumulated scum of spending three days on a train,”


it could mean “She’s in the shower hosing off the accumulated dirt, sweat and travel-weariness of three days riding Amtrak.”

If we were talking about a Truck Stop Dolly, the choice would be obvious, but we aren’t.

That doesn’t mean I don’t think the choice is the same; it just means I think it’s not as obvious.

Your mileage may vary.

After all, we are dealing with a seasoned Stolen Valor GS-13 writer-editor of OVER THREE DECADES EXPERIENCE as a journalist and radio broadcaster (and don’t forget truck driver, so really, who would know better the difference between train scum and train scum?) who was apparently miraculous cured of his 18 year bout with ADVANCED STAGE ELEVENTYSIX NEVER EVER EVER GETS BETTER PARKINSON’S DISEASE

or maybe he was always lying about it in the first place. Occam’s Razor, what do you say?

Ding! First Prize!

That’s what I thought too.

But “hosing off 3 days of train scum?” That is some dynamite mental imagery right there.

I’ll bet there’s video that NO ONE wants to see.


Good Evening, DUMBFUCK!

Remember back in Guymon, when the first thing your new boss did was make you remove all station references from your Twitter page?

You do know you’re heading right back into the lion’s den, don’t you?

You do know you’re going to get fired at the end of your probationary period, don’t you?

You do know that big sister Donna is getting sick and fucking tired of rolling out the “take us back, my conscience kicked in again and I quit just as they kicked me out” rug for you, don’t you?

You do know that nothing says true love, nothing says I’m REALLY GOING TO MARRY YOU AND GET YOUR TEETH FIXED SO THEY LOOK AT LEAST BETTER THAN STRANNY than lighting out for northern Montana 10 days before Christmas and leaving your skank bag behind alone…

Don’t you?

Have you lost count of how many times this makes that you’ve un-re-un-re-un-re-un-retired?

I haven’t.