#to have an actual HERD of horses constantly blowing her cover

[ooklet]

new bespoke skyrim glitch: horses adopting themselves???? periodically, horses belonging to dead hunters and nobles or the buyable ones from stables will start following my dragonborn, unprompted. some of them are still marked as stolen so they can't actually be ridden but they chase my dragonborn down and teleport with her to every town. there are six of them in addition to the one (1) horse that she bought on purpose.

i think this is the only time in history someone has become a horse girl under duress.

[paint-pilot]

[UPDATE - ADVICE WANTED]

hey, all. have some pretty major updates. this is gonna be a really rambly post, there’s a tl;dr at the end.

long story short, i’m selling ranger. it’s something i’ve been considering for quite some time given that i have been consistently getting worse in the show ring and at home. the way i see it, the horse loves me and i love him, but we feed off of each other’s anxiety so badly that it’s in essence ruined both of us for one another. i’ve been entertaining the idea for several months, and the recent hunter show i went to kinda sealed the deal. we had a good run, and i have no resentment towards the horse at all; i want him to be happy, but that’s just not with me anymore.

i do have someone already interested in his purchase at the barn, so for now i’m not going to be seriously advertising him, but if that falls through i may well be. just want him to have a good home and a confident rider that can soothe his nerves. in the meantime, i’ll be searching for a more suitable horse. thoughts on potential horses below the cut. if you’re in the area and have another horse that i might like, feel free to let me know, or if you have thoughts on the horses i’m considering don’t hesitate to chip in.

i have two horses in mind that couldn’t be more different, whom i’ll describe for the sake of working it out in my mind. an unofficial list of things i’d like in a new horse, though obviously it’s unlikely that with my price range i’ll be able to check all the boxes: - inexpensive ($5k) - if it’s more expensive, a payment plan is definitely preferable - push ride (literally do not care if i have to carry a crop and/or spurs constantly, in fact that’s probably preferred given the circumstances) - small-ish (15-16hh) - not terribly spooky (don’t care if it jumps or shies every now and again, but i’m really not in a place to deal with bolting, bucking, rearing, etc.) - sound (i understand minor things, but if it’s lame every month it’s really not going to work) able to event up to beginner novice level (if it can go further, great, but i doubt i’m going to advance all that far given the circumstances) - breed really doesn’t matter, though a solid build is much preferred (and, admittedly, i have a giant soft spot for mustangs, drafty things, and cowhorses) - okay with other horses - i don’t mind if it’s a bit of a bully, but it needs to deal with being turned out w 5+ horses 24/7 (i’d definitely appreciate a horse that isn’t terribly herd-bound, but i’ve dealt with herd anxiety before and am more than willing to do it again) - sex doesn’t much bother me, though stallions are out of the question on a farm full of mares - i’m not interested in a huge project, but if it’s not fully trained (i.e. doesn’t fully understand dressage, is only jumping crossrails, etc.) i’m willing to work with it - versatility is definitely nice - while eventing is my main thing, a horse that can have a western saddle slapped onto it and do just fine is certainly an attractive prospect

i know that i’m asking for a lot - thankfully, i have options that seem viable that i’ll be having a look at in the upcoming weeks. the first is a thoroughbred mare and a retired polo pony. the owner claims that she’s a definite kick ride and an extremely quiet and kid-safe animal. she’s around 12 years old and stands 15.2 hands high. she’s been jumped and is proven to be very quiet; i have yet to hear anything about her dressage experience. she is not for sale; the owner has offered her as a free lease to someone at my farm who thoroughly loves her and will take care of her. i will still be responsible for board, but vet bills and such are covered. the owner says that if something goes wrong, i’m free to return her without any questions asked. several years ago the mare tore up a deep digital flexor tendon; nowadays she has little flexibility in that leg, though the owner swears since then she’s never taken a lame step and it never bothers her. again, if the leg blows up i’m free to return her without any issues. my trainer knows the lessor well and trusts her greatly, but i’ve never met the mare before and know nothing about her, not even her name. as well, it’s unlikely that i’d be able to lease her to someone else (something we need as my financial situation is precarious), and leases can always be tricky as you never know when the owner might decide to take the horse back up (while that’s doubtful considering the circumstances, it’s something to keep in mind).

the second is a mustang mare from the old barn i used to ride at. she’s four, two years off the range, and broke to saddle for about one and a half years. obviously she’s still green, though she’s surprisingly experienced given her circumstances; she halts, pivots, sidepasses, and jumps (all shown in videos and actually very impressive). as well, she’s incredibly drafty in build and of my knowledge has never been lame. she’s a hair under 15 hands, maybe slightly small for me but definitely a tough little thing. she’s been to multiple shows and has trail ridden on her own and with other horses and lives on a farm with a ton of livestock; according to the owner, she has a little spook in her - don’t know what that entails but knowing her it’s probably nothing much. her temperament is listed as extremely calm, and from my experience working with her (only on the ground, of course), she’s very easy to calm down when she gets worked up and seems to be quite a push ride. she has some liberty training and has been started both western and english. i don’t know how high she can jump nor how she’d deal with cross-country fences. unlike the other horse i know her farm well; she gets almost no turnout, which makes her quietness all the more attractive, and i trust the owner and know that she wants the best for the horse and i. they’re asking $2.2k, though i don’t doubt they’d be willing to negotiate and let her go on trial. i’m unsure if i have the time to work with and train such a green horse, but it’s an attractive prospect and something i’ve always wanted to try. my trainer, obviously, isn’t a fan of the idea of putting her nervous student on a four-year-old, but seeing as i know the mare and the farm she comes from she’s agreed to take a look at her.

of course, i’ll be changing my url relatively soon - i’ll definitely let everyone know. in a way, this is a bit of an exciting opportunity; until now i’ve yet to really get to try out a lot of different horses. i’m well aware which one is the sensible choice and which one is the risky one, but seeing as i’ve always had my heart set on a mustang, especially one i could work with myself (with the help of a trainer, of course), i definitely debate on what will make me happy in the long run. if you have any advice or words of comfort, i’d much appreciate it; even though i know well this is for the best, i’m still devastated at having to lose ranger and worried about the prospect of starting over on a new horse. ultimately, i just want ranger to have a good home and i want to gain back my confidence. like i said, we had a good run, and i’m gonna miss his dumb face, but it’s time to move on to bigger and better things.

TL;DR: ranger and i are not a match, have an interested buyer but if that falls through he will be posted for sale. seeking a quiet, smaller, versatile event horse. debating between purchasing a younger mustang mare or free-leasing an older thoroughbred mare, though more than willing to look at other prospects. blog will be receiving updates as i transition between horses.

[ecotone99]

[SP] The Masquerade

Note: This is a stand-alone vignette set in the same universe as a long-form story I'm working on, The Heplion Contingency, which is in a cyberpunk/space opera setting where psychic powers take the place of technology. This story (and others) can also be found in Wattpad and in my writing blog.

Three Towers Inn. The Abyri-style pub’s name was as generic as they came, but Maya didn’t mind. There was something comforting about its lazy stereotyping. You know what to expect from this place, it seemed to suggest, and that familiarity was precious when settling into a new town. Especially when one has something to hide… which Maya did. Being constantly on guard was stressful, so any occasion to under-analyze was welcome.

She opened the door, stepped inside, and sighed deeply. The muggy air inside, lined with the smell of wood paneling, filled her lungs as the buzz of idle conversation washed over her, interspersed with the lull of some folk-pop on the phonograph. Welp, time to start it all over again, she thought as she briefly scanned the place – phony-vintage décor all around, furnishing that leaned more toward cozy than chic, and a remarkably diverse-looking crowd, a lot of it non-human. Since there’s nobody I know who can show me the ropes around here, this looks like as good a place as any to start from scratch.

She slowly walked toward the bar, eyeing a couple ladies who seemed more or less promising. No rush, she thought. Better take it slow, not blow it on my first day here. She rapped the counter thrice for luck – once for the Father, once for the Mother, once for the Elder – and hailed the bartender. “Beer,” she called out.

“New in the area?” the Halachian bartender, a hulking figure with a slanting forehead and large teeth, asked as he brought her drink.

“Yeah, just moved in.” Maya took a sip. “Aaah. Good stuff.”

The bartender smiled. “Huxtaber. Not many people know it, but if you ask me, nothing beats it.”

“You know how to make a girl happy.” She raised the glass in a toast and took a swig.

“You looking to make friends? ‘Cause you’ve got a candidate,” he said, pointing with his chin.

Maya sighed. Here come the creeps, she thought, and slowly turned around to see who he was indicating. To her glad surprise, it was a young, light-skinned woman, leaned against the wall by the pool table, who was intently eyeing her with a smirk.

Am I really this lucky? Maya thought. It was just a random bar, not the local scene; she expected a lot of fruitless nights before she found someone like her. Well, she wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth. She smiled at the girl for a second and turned back toward the bar, with trained discretion.

“Hello there,” the lady said a short while later, sitting beside Maya. Her playful tone indicated she really was in the right track. “Love seeing a new face around here.”

Maya smirked. “Yeah, I’m new in town. Fresh off the portal today, in fact. Say, you having anything?”

“Same as yours sounds good.” She kept her intense eyes fixed on Maya’s. “So, where are you from?”

“One of these for her,” Maya said to the bartender. “Oh, and Abyron. Lived there my whole life, in fact.”

“Wow, really? This place must look so corny for you! I actually feel bad for you, seeing your culture butchered like this.”

Maya laughed. “Nah, it’s fine. I like it, really. Abyri pubs are the same all around the galaxy, y’know? So even the phoniness feels really familiar.”

The girl picked up her beer. “I see. And I guess we’re pretty used to phoniness in our daily lives, huh?” She stared deeply into Maya as she took a swig.

“You know it, girl. Can’t put the mask down.” She held the other woman’s gaze for a while, drinking in the moment. “Oh. I’m Maya.”

“Anji.” They exchanged two brief kisses in the cheek. “My pleasure.”

“Why, hello there, Anji.” She laid her head on her hand, elbow on the counter. “Gotta say, I’m really glad to have found you. Thought it’d take me forever to run across someone like us in here.”

Anji laughed. “Yeah, I know what that’s like. Took me a couple months to find the local scene when I rolled into town, myself. Can you imagine, all that time alone?”

“Wow, months? And I thought Abyron was hard… Aren’t there a lot of us here?”

“There are, but you know how it is. It’s not like we advertise ourselves. It’s a big city, and without anyone to introduce you, takes a while to find the others.”

Maya held Anji’s hand, smiling. “Seems I was really lucky to find you, then.”

Anji smiled back. “You were. And yeah, I decided to take a chance. Maybe it’s because of how it was for me, but when I saw you giving off signs, I thought I wouldn’t wait around for confirmation.”

“Really glad you did, girl. Sticking your neck out like that, coming on to someone you’re not sure is up for it. Thanks… really.”

“So…” Anji took another pull of her beer. “You ready to meet the rest?”

“Really?” Maya was fine with just enjoying Anji… but, on the other hand, she could really use the feeling of community right then. “You’re introducing me to the local scene? I’ve heard it’s wild!”

“You have no idea.” She had a wicked look. “Hey, there’s a club where we can be ourselves.” She leaned in and whispered. “I mean, really be ourselves… or whoever we want. No masks… unless you want them, that is.”

“Wow… I mean, I’ve heard about places like that, but never thought I’d go to one!” She laughed. “You must be thinking it’s really backward where I’m coming from, and I’d say you’re about right…”

“I’m talking total freedom,” Anji whispered. “Let your imagination run wild, y’know?”

“I don’t know…” Maya’s smile betrayed her excitement. “I mean, I’d love to meet our local fellows, but I’ve never let myself just… go like that, y’know?”

“Come on… wouldn’t you like to just be yourself? I know it can be scary, but I promise you, once you’ve tried it, you’ll be glad you did.”

“Ah, what the hell!” She got her wallet out to pay for their beers. “You only live once, right?”

“That’s the spirit! Come on, let’s ditch this place.”

A couple minutes later, they were in a cab, rolling toward the harbor district. Maya didn’t quite catch the address – not that it would’ve done her a whole lot of good if she had, with how unfamiliar she was with the city. The recklessness of what she was doing made her heart race… and she liked it. Well, being in the back of a cab with a hot girl was appealing, too – but Maya realized the uncertainty, the whole danger of going to a seedy part of town in the middle of the night with someone she just knew, thrilled her as well.

Anji remained silent throughout the trip. She stole glances at Maya once in a while, a mischievous smile on her face, as if she could barely contain an exciting secret. Maya, for her part, would rather throw herself at Anji right then and there, the cab’s conductor be damned – however, feeling in uncertain footing, she thought it best to leave the initiative to the other girl. I’ve gotten this far, she pondered. Don’t have an opportunity like this every day… better not blow it by being too thirsty.

At last, after what seemed like an interminable ride, they arrived at a small alley tucked between warehouses, entirely too quiet at this hour of the night for comfort. “Don’t worry,” Anji said, apparently sensing Maya’s apprehension. “The area’s safer than it looks. We make sure of that.”

“O…kay.” Maya wasn’t sure if that last part made her feel more or less secure, but she was in too deep to start wondering now. “Lead the way, then!”

The pair left the cab and made their way to a discreet iron door at the edge of one of the warehouses. A large man, wearing a cheap suit and a grim face, stood beside it with crossed arms. As they approached, he followed them with a distrustful gaze, in silence.

“Hey there, Ashkon!” Anji said, with a chipper smile. “It’s me, Anji!”

The man’s face opened up. “Oh, hi, Anji! Looking good today, huh?”

“Thanks! I’ve found this lost sheep that I’m bringing back to our herd.” She tugged at Maya’s arm.

“Uh, hi there!” Maya waved. “I’m Maya.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Ashkon said. He produced a set of keys, unlocked the door with a loud clang, and opened it for them. “Please, come in.”

“I’ve never seen a nightclub this… discreet,” Maya said, as she followed her partner into a narrow corridor and down a couple flights of stairs.

“What can I say?” Anji shrugged. “It’s exclusive. Just us. Gotta make sure of that, right?”

“I suppose so…” This has better be really good, Maya thought.

At the bottom of the stairs, another burly man guarded a heavy door. “Anji”, the mysterious girl said. “And this is Maya. She’s one of us.”

The man nodded, and then unlocked and opened the door without saying a word. “Jambie’s quiet, but he’s really sweet,” Anji whispered.

Some light piano music wafted out of the door, together with a quiet, subdued buzz of conversation. As the pair stepped inside, Maya was struck by an astonishing scene, whose visual extravagance poorly matched the tinny sounds that preceded it.

A wild menagerie of creatures, vaguely humanoid in shape but highly varied in every other aspect, was scattered across the tables of a finely appointed dining hall. A purple-skinned, green-haired woman was talking to a large, upright-walking cat and a shifting blob of oozing orange flesh nearby. At a buffet counter to the side, a being with a serpent’s head and bright, multicolored feathers all over their body patiently waited for their turn, while what looked like a short, wide man made of moss-covered rock availed himself of hors d’oeuvres. A wild bout of laughter came from a table, where a hyena-headed woman wildly gesticulated, cocktail cup in hand, while telling some story to a group of friends, one of them consisting of a collection of simple, blocky shapes in primary colors. A young woman who appeared to be made of ice sat silently across a large man, whose bulbous, bulging flesh constantly changed colors and textures. And, interspersed among the crowd, there were several creatures with the same appearance – humanoids with metallic, shimmering skin, broad arms and legs ending in three thick digits each, and completely smooth, featureless heads that jutted out from their torsos at a forward angle.

A rasping laughter came from Maya’s side. “C’mon, don’t just stand there gawking! Let’s mingle a bit.” She turned and saw the voice came from what looked like a rainbow-colored wolf person.

“W-what’s going on here?” Maya asked, nervous. “Who are you?”

“What? You don’t like it?” The wolf-person laughed again. “Oh, I see. That’s not how you met me. I’ll change back, if it makes you more comfortable.” The creature’s form shifted, its snout pulling back into its face, hair growing out on top of its head and being reabsorbed into the skin on the rest of the body, its size, proportions and color changing, until it settled in the form Maya had known as Anji. “I’ll still go back to that one tonight, though,” she said, wagging her finger. “Been meaning to try it out for a while.”

“Wha… aaaaahhhh!” Maya had so many questions at once that she couldn’t manage to formulate anything other than a primal scream.

“Lady?” One of the metallic-skinned creatures approached, gently touching Maya’s shoulder with its three knobby fingers. “Are you alright?” it said, with a voice like a coil being scraped across a lead pipe.

“Aaaah!” Maya recoiled from the creature. “NO! I am not alright!”

“Maya?” Anji said softly. “Calm down. It’s okay. We’re among friends here.”

“Get away from me!” Maya pushed her back. “Whatever you are, you all are not friends!”

“Is it because of all these true-forms in public? Hey, I know our conditioning runs deep, but you can relax now. Look, I’m going first.” She changed shape again, this time assuming the form of one of those metallic-skinned beings. “See?” it asked, with that strange metallic voice. “Why don’t you try it yourself?”

“Anji!” the other creature said sternly. “That’s not one of us. Why did you bring her here?”

“W-what are you people?” Maya asked.

“That can’t be right, I…” Anji paused for a moment, focusing intensely on Maya. “Shit, you’re right. Look at the mess in her head!”

“You’re in my head?!” Maya exclaimed.

“How the hell do you bring someone around without scanning them first?” the feathered snake yelled. Several creatures were approaching, forming a circle around Maya and Anji.

“I… I was so sure, it seemed so obvious…” Anji said, changing back into her familiar human form. Some of the beings closest to them shifted into large, intimidating forms. “What was all that business about ‘masks’ and ‘people like us’ you were going on about at the bar?”

Maya’s eyes welled up. “I… thought you were like me.”

“Like what?” Anji asked. “What is it you were trying to hide so carefully?”

Maya sobbed. “You know…” she strained out her words. “Homosexual.”

“What?!” the creature that had approached them earlier exclaimed. “Why the hell would anyone need to hide that?”

“Yeah, Maya, c’mon,” Anji said, a quizzical look on her face. “That doesn’t make any sense. You’re a lesbian, you go to a lesbian bar. Just look one up, there’s a bunch of them.”

“No…” Maya struggled among her tears. “You don’t know what it’s like back home… I couldn’t just announce that to anyone!”

“Tsk,” the hyena-headed woman clicked. “Those Union humans. So barbaric.”

“Wait…” Anji touched Maya’s arm, concerned. “You really went through all that trouble because you were afraid of the repercussions, if the wrong people found out you’re gay? Wow… that’s messed up.”

“Who gives a shit?” one of the creatures that had transformed into a large, hulking figure bellowed. “She’s not one of us, and she knows. You know what that means.” Other creatures started yelling in agreement.

“Wait, what?” Maya asked, suddenly snapped out of her anguish. “What does that mean?”

“Calm down, folks,” Anji pleaded. “She’s lost. She… was just trying to live out a lie. You all know damn well what that’s like, don’t you?”

“Of course we do,” the metallic creature said. “Still, she knows about our secret.”

“I won’t tell!” Maya blurted out. “I promise, I won’t! I wouldn’t even know what to tell in the first place!”

“Shh.” Anji hugged Maya. “Hush. Don’t worry.”

“I’m serious,” the strange being insisted. “You know how it is. I get that she’s like us on some level, but what difference does it make?”

“The difference,” Anji said, producing a knife from under her coat, “is that we make it painless.” She thrusted the weapon into Maya’s heart through her back, before the woman could realize what she meant.

submitted by /u/SirKazum [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2YS9Bvp

[theliterateape]

American Shithole #11 — Scott Pruitt: Ambien From Oklahoma

By Eric Wilson

“I don’t want to write about these bloviating, Machiavellian fuckfaces this week!” I raged, as Monday morning slid unproductively into Monday afternoon. I nervously plucked at my guitar while watching the news cycle blitzkrieg on my monitor a few feet away — a now daily ritual.  

Mostly, I love writing this column. Some days though…

Later, from underneath the covers, I howled the muffled words “I don’t want to write about these soul-sucking servants of the shitgibbon every seven days for seven more years!” as I buried myself under a mountain of pillows.

On Wednesday I cried, “I’m staring into the void!” as I fumbled around my closet looking for a comfortable pair of pants. There was no reply from the darkness within.

“You’re fine,” I finally thought to myself, “you’re just reading too much about that conniving motherfucker, Scott Pruitt.”

Ugh, Scott Pruitt — bane of the Environmental Protection Agency. I never would have imagined that someone could actually bore me to death. Is this how he's killing the environment? Is he boring it to death?

He is a slow internet connection personified.  

I’ve read nearly 50 articles about the head of the EPA over the last few days, along with ingesting and digesting a fair amount of CNN coverage about the man — and I was uncharacteristically disinterested with all of it.

Even writers for the New Yorker and the New York Times were unable to capture my attention, as they, too, failed to bring color and life to a man will all the charm and allure of an abandoned Porta Potty.

It was the most painful slog so far, and I’ve already spent a week reading about Stephen Miller!

Never has there been a more boring villain in the Trump rogue’s gallery, than this litigious Jesus freak. Reading a bio piece on Scott Pruitt is like reading a 40-page white paper on the chemical properties of Vaseline.

I have been distracted this past week; I admit that could be part of it. A week dominated by the dangerous surgery my father was forced to undertake. (I love you, dad! Get well soon.)

But this Pruitt goon is just such an ordinary, run-of-the-mill bad guy that he can’t compete with the hyperbolic carnival barkers and legitimately terrifying shadow figures that have all come out of the woodwork. I fell asleep reading about him two nights in a row, and I’ve successfully read Moby Dick!

Okay, I haven’t. Fuck that tome. But you get the point.

In the age of comic supervillains, Pruitt comes off less like an evil genius, and more like a creepy office temp — the kind of guy that’s always looking at you when you happen to glance in their general direction.

Stop creeping on me Pruitt!

Conversely, if Pruitt were a superhero, you would find yourself constantly asking what his powers were. He’s just sort of, there. If the Trump administration were the Avengers, Pruitt would be Hawkeye.

I can just imagine eavesdropping on the conversations about Trump’s Avengers at Comic-Con:

“So what’s this Pruitt character do again?”

“He furthers the conservative agenda from within his department, he abuses housing, finance and travel privileges on the tax payer’s dime, and in general he behaves like a bought and paid for horse’s ass, born of the cronyism era of political yore.”

“So basically, he’s just a republican.”

“Yes. One that can skewer libruls with a nifty composite bow, and also turn invisible.”

“C’mon now, he can’t turn invisible, he’s just really, really boring.”

“Yes, but if his boringness results in what would effectively be invisibility, then that should be considered a power.”

“I disagree. That would be like saying…”

Ah, Comic-Con. How I long for your Nerdspeak. Someday I shall find you as crowded, overpriced and befouled by virgin body odor as I imagine you to be…

I managed to read enough about Pruitt — through caffeine-assisted focus — to understand that he is clearly another incompetent and grossly overconfident fool within this administration. They are all terrible fools, but some of them are so spectacularly inept in their villainy. Following the lead of Trump’s almost laughable bungling of everything he touches, I suppose.

What kind of fucking idiot disobeys this White House when they expressly forbid you to give lavish salary increases to friends in your department? What kind of numbskull defies this president by circumventing the law with an obscure loophole via the Safe Drinking Water Act to get two buddies roughly an extra 70K a year?

What kind of muttonhead lies about a private email account used for communications with his ties to the oil and gas industry, during the Senate confirmation hearings on his appointment to the EPA? – a crime itself.

What kind of fool perfectly positioned to dismantle Obama era EPA initiatives and regulations — something he’s worked years to accomplish — breaks the law by accepting the gift of cheap D.C. housing as quid pro quo for awarding a lucrative pipeline contract?

The boring, invisible kind of fool, apparently.

“So what’s his origin story?”

I’ll handle this, Comic-Con nerds.

Scott Pruitt is a lawyer (J.D.) and politician from Oklahoma, so his origin story is that he’s a good ol’ boy. I lived in Oklahoma for four miserable years in my youth, and if there’s a barren and lifeless place filled with more wingnuts and whackadoodles, I have not seen it.

I do not wish to ever visit such a place.

Here is a brief aside offering insight into the mindset of Oklahoma’s educational system. When I was in sixth grade in Oklahoma, they gave the incoming class various aptitude tests, and then separated the exceptionally high-scoring kids from the herd, to be educated elsewhere, along with the children exhibiting behavioral problems. I have always found it interesting that the troublemakers and the intellectually gifted were considered the same in that cultural backwater.

That was 40 years ago. I couldn’t possibly imagine what Oklahoma’s public schools have devolved into today. Oh wait, yes I can imagine, as the teachers for the entire state are on strike, due to the gross undervaluing of their services, among other indecencies and injustice.

Pruitt wasn’t formally educated in Oklahoma, he grew up in Kentucky, but you couldn’t possibly care about that, dear reader. I certainly didn’t. He moved to Tulsa in the early '90s, but no one really cares about that either. Or that he was a State Senator and then Oklahoma’s Attorney General. Zzzzzzz. Boring. He’s the Benadryl of Evil.

His whole life story is boring as shit.

I hope he gets fired so that at the very least, I never have to read about him again. Reading about this stone-faced conservative boor actually made me care less about the environment he so desperately wants to destroy; so please universe, no more Pruitt.

Unless I have insomnia, then get me that bio, pronto.

He is dangerous though, and he certainly seemed devious from the get-go. Not only did he spend several thousand dollars sweeping his new offices for bugs, he also built a super-spy silent phone booth in his office with 43K of tax payer funds.

I’ll save you all the usual links; trust me on this one, I did the fucking reading for you, and I am a less-interesting man for the effort.

There is a lot of conjecture over whether or not Pruitt is next on the chopping block. Opinions are all over the place on this one, so I’ll throw in my two cents. If he were from a family of billionaires, I would say no, he stays. This is one of the reasons DeVos will be around for a while. Pruitt is not from upper-crust wealth though. Trump ultimately sees the Pruitt types of the world as lesser, and therefore expendable; and considering the amount of bad press he’s generating for the administration, well, Trump has gotten rid of people for far less.

So, unless the heat dies down, its adios, you boring motherfucker!

Breaking News: Pruitt on the controversial pay raises for his staff: My staff did it, not me!

Here's Pruitt hammering nails into his own coffin Wednesday evening, and in an environment you would expect to be simpatico. This is a FOX News interview with Ed Henry, no less. My new prediction is he is gone by the time this posts Thursday.

B.S. Report

In case you missed it, another conservative talking head looked to belittle one of the Parkland survivors in the digital arena — this time it was Laura Ingraham gunning for David Hogg. She was outmatched. She came damn close to losing her show.

These assholes are dropping out of elections, losing advertisers — losing their jobs — every damn time they say some evil shit about these kids. THAT is power. That is their own beloved capitalism biting them in the fucking ass. Taking out a good chunk. How’d you like them apples, Laura Ingraham? I’d wager you shit your spanks when those advertisers started dropping like flies. I bet your knees were shaking like twigs in the breeze when the boys from the FOX News home office called to inform you if you still had a job.

So this goes out to all of the Fox News family, and their ilk.

Enjoy scrutinizing and fretting over every miserable fucking thing you used to be able to say with impunity — for the rest of your miserable lives — you overvalued, right-wing, shitgibbon-blowing, squawk-box media whores.

You sold out our country for ratings, and eventually America is going to make you pay for that, dearly.