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Hello, Weissmann.
Andrew Weissmann is very upset that Judge Aileen Cannon blocked his friend Jack Smith’s report regarding the bogus documents case. Andrew is especially upset that Judge Cannon may have set up the prosecution of Jack Smith.
— The Researcher (@listen_2learn) February 24, 2026
Also, it’s quite something to hear Andrew question… pic.twitter.com/Pai3r0hOGOPosted ·
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You're not trying to pass this bill. You're trying to kill it in a way you can blame on process.
Hello Senator Thune,
— DataRepublican (small r) (@DataRepublican) March 25, 2026
Let's expose what you're really doing with "reconciliation."
You announced it yesterday, eleven months after the House passed the SAVE America Act. You're not trying to pass this bill. You're trying to kill it in a way you can blame on process.
Here's how…Posted ·
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lol
The 1980s were a living Hell. Young people simply do not understand.
— Cynical Publius (@CynicalPublius) September 3, 2026
✔️New Coke.
✔️"Heaven's Gate" and "The Blue Lagoon."
✔️"Hello Larry" and "Alf."
✔️Lean Cuisine, Beefaroni and Jell-O casseroles.
✔️Mullets, rat-tails and BigHair.
✔️Kajagoogoo and Milli Vanilli.
✔️Parachute…Posted ·
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heh
“Mr. Patel, there’s been no indictment… that would be public information, right?”
— Hello George (@george18kennedy) September 17, 2026
“Not if they are sealed.”
⚖️ pic.twitter.com/O9QUtNBmJpPosted ·
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9.18.26: ASSANGE IS BACK! Perfect timing, CLOSING ACT, Game over, Hello George, PRAY!
Posted ·
Categories And We Know, Alt Media -
lol. Credit: Suzanne Jacobs
I’m just going to say this and before anybody starts foaming at the mouth, I’m not homophobic! I couldn’t give a fuck if you’re gay. If you’re a bloke and you fancy blokes, crack on. If you’re a woman and you fancy women, crack on. Get married, adopt twelve fucking Labradors and spend Sunday arguing in IKEA like everybody else.
But what the fuck happened after that?
Because I remember LGBT.
I could just about keep up with that.
Then it became LGBTQ. Then LGBTQ+. Then LGBTQIA+. Then LGBTQIA2S+.
Fuck me. I used to think LGBT was a sandwich. Lettuce, guacamole, bacon and tomato. Then the Q arrived and I thought somebody had added fucking quiche.
Now it looks like somebody’s Wi-Fi password.
And that’s before you even get into the rest of it.
Non-binary, genderfluid, genderqueer, agender, bigender, trigender, pangender, polygender, demigender, demiboy, demigirl, genderflux, androgyne, neutrois, maverique, xenogender, genderfae, genderfaun.
Then there’s he/him, she/her, they/them, he/they, she/they, he/she/they, it/its, ze/hir, ze/zir, zie/hir, xe/xem, ey/em, e/em, ve/ver, ne/nem, per/per, co/cos, thon/thon, ae/aer and fae/faer.
Still with me?
Because we’re not fucking finished.
Bun/bunself. Pup/pupself. Cat/catself. Star/starself. Moon/moonself. Void/voidself.
VOIDSELF.
What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"
"Void."
"Right. I’ll fucking stand."
And somewhere along the way we’ve also got furries. Grown adults dressed as cats, dogs, foxes and fucking dragons. People meowing. People barking. People crawling around on all fours. I’ve seen people dressed as dogs doing obstacle courses with an audience cheering them on like fucking Crufts has accidentally booked the wrong convention centre.
Imagine being an alien arriving on Earth and that’s the first thing you see.
You’d put the fucking spaceship in reverse.
"No intelligent life here. One of them’s dressed as a border collie and somebody’s just given him a biscuit."
And I’m sorry, but some of the videos are fucking spectacular. You’ve got somebody with luminous green hair looking like they’ve escaped from Fraggle Rock, absolutely screaming into another person’s face because they’ve used the wrong pronoun.
How the fuck was he supposed to know?
You need a fucking laminated flowchart.
"Hello."
"HOW DARE YOU."
"I haven’t said anything yet."
"EXACTLY."
This is the bit I don’t understand. Be whoever you want to be. Love whoever you want to love. Wear whatever you want. Dye your hair green. Dress as a dragon. Call yourself Moonbeam. Spend Saturday crawling around the NEC pretending to be a fucking spaniel if that’s what gets you through the week.
I genuinely don’t care.
But don’t demand that everybody else joins in.
My view is that there are two genders, male and female. You can disagree with me. That’s fine. We can disagree about things without one of us spontaneously fucking combusting.
What I won’t do is memorise an ever-expanding dictionary because somebody somewhere has decided this week that they’re fae/faer, void/voidself and spiritually a fucking woodland fox.
We’ve somehow taken "live and let live", which was perfectly fucking simple, and turned it into a terms-and-conditions document.
You live your life. I’ll live mine.
I’ll call you by your name. I’ll treat you like a human being. I won’t give a flying fuck who you sleep with.
But if you start barking at me, I’m throwing a fucking tennis ball.
Credit: Suzanne Jacobs— karen (@Africa_Dabra) October 6, 2026Posted ·
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