You Meet The DMV First.

The greatest of all government screw ups happened today. I took my son to get his learner’s driving permit.

Two days ago I called and asked to set up an appointment and was told that those are no longer necessary, so when we walked in and were asked if we had an appointment I was a bit taken aback.

“No, I called and they said we didn’t need one.” I said.

A loud woman incapable of eye contact told me that they were only giving permit tests to kids with appointments. “But I called and was told I didn’t need one.”

That seemed a simple matter for me to bring up. “No. You need to make appointments online.” she said, staring off into the ether.

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Hotel Paradise

The Pretender in-Chief told us his approval of the unelected bureaucrat’s edict that decided we have no more property rights was unconstitutional. He stated that evictions and the erasure of property rights was okay anyway because he figured that it would take a few weeks before the lawyers got to the Supreme Court to make the case that he made about the unconstitutionality. They did tell him, again, that he has no reign over such things. But he knew that. So why not again?

Why doesn’t this asshat declare property rights off limits every few weeks? He’d get his absurd way with no rule of law standing in opposition until the lawyers got their briefs together and showed once again what asshat already said: that he was breaking the law. He could do this every so often as long as he makes sure to exert his dictatorial wish before rent day. Apparently there is no repercussion.

Can I do this at a hotel? Is the elimination of use per fee so absolute that I could book the Four Seasons for a week or two with no expectation of being sent packing?  What about room service? Is that included or am I reaching past my fair use of other’s property?

This jackass has benefitted from his disaster on the Afghan front, which distracted from his disaster on the southern border, which is distracting from his disaster on the plague messaging front, which is distracting from decision to make himself judicial, legislative, and executive, all in one empty suit.

Notes and Nonsense

– This is why I should never be put on a jury. I’d hand the keys of the company and just about every asset of every employee involved over to this couple out of rage and fury, and that’s not actual justice. But they sure as hell deserve something. – ‘It has to be known what was done to us’: Natick couple harassed by eBay tell their story for the first time – The Boston Globe

– I rarely read City Journal and kick myself for my failure to keep up with them every time I do. From Lee Siegel, a long article but worth the time: “He writes that amour propre represents “a demand on others that they think better of us than they think of themselves.” That seems, in the current moment, just about right.” – Year Zero | City Journal (

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You Can’t Make This Up

Laurel Hubbard, weightlifter from New Zealand who, after living most of his life as a man decided to live the rest – so far – of his now her life as a woman, has been eliminated in women’s Olympic competition. This will be a full on “See!” fest of fingers pointed Hubbard’s way as proof that women’s sports are in no danger from nee male competition with no mention of the fact that Hubbard is forty-three years old and his competition is averaging around twenty-five.

We’re going to get the Battle of the sexes where a thirty year old woman proved equality by beating a fifty-five year old man in tennis in redux, but with conflicted reporters trying to recast it as Battle of the Sex because there is no such thing as biological reality in our brave new present.

That Hubbard made a team at forty-three should be proof of physical inequity but that is not why I bring this up. I bring it up because Hubbard failed to progress in the competition because, per The Daily Mail using the parlance of the sport: “The 43-year-old, who transitioned in 2012, was competing in the 87kg+ category but failed to record a single valid ‘snatch’ lift in Tokyo.”

Please try the veal.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Democrats led, at least so far as camera time allotted discerns a leader of a movement, by Alexandria Ocasio-Defarge, are protesting the twilight of the federal moratorium on evictions. It’s the usual theatrics: well paid and fawned over elitists such as Defarge and her crew LARP being poor for a night by sleeping safely outdoors protected by the glow of sympathetic media and the perks of their station – in this case multiple camera crews, the Capitol Park Police, and a militarized D.C. Their authenticity is not to be questioned. They spent a well-publicized evening understanding what it meant to be homeless. Whether from the comfort of their Georgetown Dacha’s or the tax-payer funded luxury of their Congressional offices they’ll dictate to their soundbite crafting lackies the travails they suffered is anybody’s guess. No word yet on who catered the roughing it evening.

Cori Bush (D – MO) can at least speak of the times she was evicted and slept in her car because of financial hardships but she seems to pretend to have no ability to conceive that financial hardships are being visited on others or what the long term consequences of this moratorium when I suspect the opposite is true. This is mendacious.   

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Stupid Things

In case the “pin” vs. “pen” thing was too easy for you, now we have this:

Also, and this is something that came up on a lazy Sunday afternoon as I try to reacclimate to non-beach life even though the beer with breakfast model was working quite well, why do I fold my underwear? Wrinkled boxers are the last thing I need to be worrying about.

Dispatches From The Beach: Vol Un (The Public Beach Uprising Edition)

This has been among our best beach trips despite. The despite list gets pretty long.

We booked a house in a gated community with some of our family on the beach and others no more than two blocks away. There are ten of us in the two blocks away contingent. My wife and two kids, a sister in-law and brother in-law and their two, my mother in-law, and my brother in-law’s twin.

The house slept twelve. It had a rooftop pool and a basement with a wet bar and three huge flat screens across a wall opposite a huge leather couch. We were destined for elation. Then we got the first call.

There were terrible issues with the house that required workmen and the delays inherent in employing workmen and they would not be able to honor our rental agreement. I didn’t believe it. I assumed they got a better offer from some other punters. I was wrong.

They put us in a second rental. Again, sleeps twelve. Then we were told that someone bought the house from the people we signed a lease with and that the new owners didn’t want to honor the rental agreement. I didn’t field that phone call and I’m glad I didn’t. The person who did is an attorney and devilishly clever so I’m sure my tact was already out the window, but I’d have said no. We have a lien by way of a lease and you bought the house – with all attached liens. I’d try to see what they were willing to do to get out of it. The rental was roughly eight thousand. I’d let them buy us out. I bet we could get four thousand. That said, I never saw the contract and the attorney that did and handled the call is devilishly clever.

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Text Messages. You Must Not Communicate In Private.

Seriously. You need to keep on the right side of the Biden admin or else. From Ace of Spades HQ:

How quickly we went from being outraged that the NSA was collecting meta-data to advocating that we deputize private tech companies to discern our degree of wrong think. Piss off.

If a Republican proposed such measures we would be buried under the outrage.

As it stands, your private conversations are not COVID proof. One Wuhan virus and it all goes out the window. Who knew that the fourth amendment this fragile. Yippee!

Not a police state. Definitely not a police state.