Showing posts with label Doug Mason. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Doug Mason. Show all posts

Thursday, July 31, 2025

Bobservations

The other morning over breakfast I was chatting with Carlos and he said:

“What?”

I repeated myself and he said:

“What?”

“Are your hearing aids in?”

“Yes.”

Cut to a couple of hours later and I’m leaving for work. I tell him I’m going to take some of his Tic Tacs with me and head into the kitchen. I start to pour some Tic Tacs into my hand when one pops out and hits the floor … FROM THE LIVING ROOM … I hear:

“Are you throwing my Tic Tacs on the floor?”

That he hears! Selective hearing is real, y’all.

This is Tuxedo from January 28, 2021: 

Tuxedo is growing ever more annoyed by Republicans who think sedition isn’t impeachment worthy.

Sidenote: cut to 2025, and the GOP shuts down Congress for an early Summer recess so they don’t have to deal with the Epstein files and the fact that their leader is a predator and child raping liar.

Kim Davis, the Kentucky Kounty Klerk who went to jail a decade ago rather than issue a marriage license to a gay couple, is now petitioning the Supreme Court to overturn Obergefell v. Hodges.

I’d like her hairdresser to overturn that mass of swamp weed on her head.

It’s a fact that most mass shooters in the U.S. are straight white men, yet no one asks white politicians to answer for them. But Republicans think Zohar Mamdani should answer questions because the Manhattan shooter is Ugandan? That’s not public safety, that’s scapegoating; that’s racism.

And it’s enough. Vote every Republican out of office, every office in every city in every state.

Every so often there are cakes that just make you wanna jump for joy … and here there are!

They say the one way to shame a woman is to say she sleeps with a lot of men. And they also say to shame a man is to say he sleeps with men.

The conclusion seems to be that sleeping with men is considered shameful.

For the love of the Baby Cheeses explain to me why anyone would think this shirt is cool, or looks good, or seems like you didn’t drag it out of a dumpster and cut the hardened pit stains out of it so you could wear it in public.

I found something new to say when I meet a MAGAt and they wanna talk The Felon. Listen politely to  their madness and then quietly, calmly say:

He wasn’t shot. He didn’t win. He’s on the list.

And calmly stroll away; works every time.

This is Doug Mason, born in San Diego and a competitive athlete before becoming a much sought after model, but the real question is: Would You Hit It?