Bobservations

Okay, Carlos. He gets enraged, well, not enraged, but perhaps overly peeved, at the toilet paper commercial with the Baby Bear picking up his underwear off the bathroom floor.

Why? Well, cuz Mama and daddy and Baby Bears are all in the bathroom and none of them are wearing clothes so why the underwear question, and why do bears sell toilet paper.

I reminded him that geckos sell insurance, turkeys sell nicotine patches, and camel is telling us it’s Hump Day. He said:

“But bears? Underwear? NONE OF THEM ARE WEARING CLOTHES!!!”

I think the lockdown got to him.

PS The best part of working again yesterday was when the phone rang in the afternoon and it was Karen. And she asked what we were all doing, and I explained what was being done and she asked who had shown up; I said:

“Well, everyone’s here.”

Except you.

I have offered up Tuxedo's services to local agencies as the spokes-cat for the lockdown. So far no takers.

I guess it’s good that GOP Senator Kelly Loeffler sold off all her department store stocks and bought medical supply sticks as soon as she learned about COVID-19—and made millions of dollars doing so—because Loeffler has already loaned $10 million to her own campaign and has pledged to spend more.

And, as of now it looks like she’ll lose…millions and her Senate seat.

Sorry, not sorry.

All those people who don’t wear masks and are shouting from the rooftops that God will protect are the same people who need a gun to protect themselves.

God can stop a virus, not a bullet.

_____ has complained to advisers about the way coronavirus deaths are being calculated, suggesting the real numbers are actually lower, and his minions feel the same because they are knuckle-dragging, goose-stepping, sycophants, and have advised him to begin publicly questioning the death toll.

Now, there is no evidence the death rate has been exaggerated, and experts believe coronavirus deaths in the US are being undercounted, not over-counted, but let’s play Devil’s Advocate …

As I write this there have been 81,000+ deaths in America. Let’s say 20% of those are not virus-related, that’s 16,000. That leaves us with 65,000 deaths.

Oh, yeah, that’s must better. Only 65,000 Americans died in 10 weeks. [sarcasm font]

Remember “Click it or Ticket?” Morons hated seatbelts but they saved lives. Maybe we should try … “Mask it or casket.”

More from the Liar-In-Thief … _____ claimed at a press briefing Monday that any American who “wants” a coronavirus test can get one.

Odd then, that just moments before that lie, _____’s own testing coordinator, Brett Giroir, said that tests are mostly reserved for people who “need” one because they present symptoms or are participating in contact tracing.

Liars gonna lie.

I hope this isn’t it’s ‘jump the shark’ moment, but Ryan Murphy’s American Horror Story franchise is expanding with a new anthology series spinoff, American Horror Stories … plural; see the difference?

Sources have described the new project as a companion anthology series to AHS, except, unlike AHS, each episode is a standalone ghost story.

I’m ready …

Rick Bright, the former director of the Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority [BARDA] who alleged in a whistleblower complaint that he was ousted from his position after resisting the _____ administration’s efforts to allow widespread use of hydrooxychloroquine, plans to testify before Congress that way back in January his advice to ramp up production of respirators and medical supplies was ignored.

Another glaring example of the _____ failure to protect people.

So, we’re big Judy Dench fans in this house so last week we watched the true story of Red Joan, a spy for Russia during the last years of WWII. Joan stole information on nuclear weapons and have it to the Russians to, as she claimed, “level the playing  field” so that no one nation had all that power.

Good story, but better was Tom Hughes, left, as her college lover who turned her into a spy, and then silver fox Ben Miles, center, as the older Joan’s son, Nick.

Also, this weekend, we caught another episode of Penny Dreadful: City of Angels and were treated to the sultry, spicy dance moves and ambiguous sexuality of Fly Rico, as played by Sebastian Chacon, right. Muy caliente!

The Funny Papers

Dave Whamond, Clay Bennett, RJ Matson, Chris Britt, David Horsey, Rick McKee, Kevin Siers, Nate Beeler, Ed Hall, Nick Anderson, Bill Bramhall

The Funny Papers

Darrin Bell, Randy Bish, Milt Priggee, Jack Ohman, Phil Hands, Ed Wexler, Kevin Siers, Michael de Adder, Nate Beeler, Nick Anderson, Mike Luckovich, Clay Bennett, Ed Hall

Bedknobs and Broomsticks, Ashtrays and Doorknobs

It's no secret that I am neither a fan of Scientology nor Tom Cruise, so this story, well, it made me giggle. And I am definitely a fan of the giggle. And the outright guffaw.

Marc Headley spent over 15 years as an employee at Scientology's international headquarters in Los Angeles and wrote a book about his time served, called Blown for Good; and there is a website to go along with his book, blownforgood.com.

In 1990 Headley was told that he would be excused from his normal duties so that one of the members of the church could practice auditing on him. That member? Yes, Tom Cruise.

Headley says he was selected because he'd participated in little auditing, had completed some courses that Scientologists pursue as they travel "up the bridge" to a higher status and, since he was still a teenager, he was views as a minimal security risk.

Sounds like a church with secrets to me.

Now, while he's spilling his secrets about Scientology, Headley doesn't go into much detail about his, er, meetings with Tommy, but he says that Cruise put him through something called "Upper Indoctrination Training Routines."

This involves working with books and, um, bottles, AKA 'the book-and-bottle routine.' Cruise asked Headley to speak to a book, telling it to stand up, or to sit down, or otherwise to move somewhere. Then you try talking to a bottle. And then, if you're good, perhaps you move on to an ashtray.

I am not making this up.

Headley says he was instructed to tell the ashtray, 'Sit in that chair,' and then he would go over and put the ashtray on the chair and say 'Thank you' to the ashtray. This, apparently went on for hours.

This was the routine for three weeks, hours each day; speak to inanimate objects, request that 'they' move and then moving them yourself, followed by a 'Thank you.'

It's polite and all, but a bit nutty. So, the big question is why?

"It was to get your intention over to the bottle....It was supposed to rehabilitate your ability to control things. And to be controlled."

And then came doorknobs.

He was asked by Cruise to find a place in the room with which he might easily communicate. he'd select, say, a doorknob, and he was asked to go touch the doorknob. Then he picked another place and the routine went on. And on.

he says. And there was more. It involved doorknobs.

Headley began to wonder about trying to make objects move by talking to them, but this was Tom Cruise, and not someone you questioned. That was why he'd been chosen: he young and green, and had few contacts outside the church.

It seems less religious teaching than it does mind control. And a tad crazy.

But Headley continued on with the church until 2005 when he was accused of embezzling money; he says he was selling old Scientology equipment on eBay in an approved scheme to raise money for a new base project.

Headley was declared a "suppressive person," and knew he'd probably be sent to "Rehabilitation Project Force" which is a kind of prison program was known to physically debilitate church members through labor and deprivation. He knew also that he would be separated permanently from his wife, also a Scientologist, as well as the rest of his family in what Scientology calls "disconnection."

But, and this is where it gets even more bizarre, before he was scheduled to be interrogated, Headley escaped, being chased off the base by guards. When the guards caught up with him he began shouting at them, which caught the attention of Riverside County sheriff's deputies, who helped Headley get away.

Headley ran to his father's home in Kansas City, where he received word that his wife also wanted to defect. In his book, Headley goes into a rather thrilling account of his wife's escape from Scientology.

Yeah, I am not a fan of Cruise or Scientology, and I am sure they'll come up with a rebuttal to Headley's book and accusations. But more people are speaking out about this "religion" and it's method of controlling its members.

And it leads one to wonder, can't you simply just walk away from any faith in the country? If you choose not to be Catholic any longer can't you just stop? So, them why not with Scientology? Why mind games? Why call those who choose to leave "suppressive" people and why try to detain them?

Why so secretive, Tommy?

The story is HERE