Comments

  1. blf says

    The mildly deranged penguin has been tying to oragnise a project to provide eggs,† preferably rotten, to antifa, for use on nazis and walruses, but whilst her idea has a lot of sympathy from other penguins, not much egg production. (One or so a year does not provide or maintain the necessary numbers.) Hence, at the moment, the best she can suggest is to use chickens. Not chicken eggs, but actual chickens, à la Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

      † Also launching equipment, preferably trebuchets. Whilst this idea has a certain popularity to it, even a lightweight egg incoming at trebuchet velocity is a bit too similar to a rock. So she’s suggesting coating the eggs with durian fruit as padding.‡ A very smelly padding…

      ‡ An attempt to coat some chickens with durian fruit did not end well. Precisely what did happen is unclear, but the cloud of penguin feathers and a certain penguin, looking surprisingly scruffy and covered with egg and durian, suggests the chickens successfully ate the cheese.

  2. davidc1 says

    @2 He has offered his salary to charities that deal with domestic abuse if he becomes a mep ,they have told him no thanks .

  3. Ichthyic says

    huh, maybe Julia conveniently forgot that the authoritarians have already bypassed eggs and milkshakes on their side, and just went straight to stabbing and shooting and using their cars to run over people they don’t like?

    Stop pretending this isn’t yet another war against fascism/authoritarianism. Because it is, and we’re already losing.

    The body count is piling up on our side, quite literally.

  4. Frederic Bourgault-Christie says

    And fish! Fish have joined the battle against fascism. Or they just hate hearing Sargon carp.

  5. says

    In 2004, my mother and father went to Normandy for the 60th anniversary of D-Day. My father was in the Navy and was the helmsman of an LCT packed with 1st Division infantryman, he landed them on Easy Red sector of Omaha Beach. Because of this, they had VIP passes on their lanyards and were seated dead center second row for the official speeches.

    My father, a confirmed working class Democrat, was overflowing with contempt for that smirking draft dodging chickenhawk monkey boy “W” Bush.

    When he was recounting this to me, he said: “I wished I had a pocketful of rotten eggs to throw at him.” My Mom swatted him him lightly on the arm and said, “Don’t be silly Gene, where would you buy rotten eggs? No store puts up a sign saying “rotten eggs for sale.””

Leave a Reply