This is what abortionists are all about.

I followed a link from Legal Insurrection to a story on Breibart about England. It seems some hospitals in England have been using aborted babies as fuel to heat their hospitals. They are taking the broken tortured flesh of human beings who were ripped from their mothers womb and throw in with the general trash. Paper. Tissues. Cardboard. Babies. All grist for the mill.

This to me is what pro-abortion people are all about. They have no respect for human life. In any respect. They are monsters. Monsters.

It lives!!!!!!

The Thing of the idols, the green, sticky spawn of the stars, had awaked to claim his own. The stars were right again, and what an age-old cult had failed to do by design, a band of innocent sailors had done by accident. After vigintillions of years great Cthulhu was loose again, and ravening for delight.

Most horrible of all it seems it has spawned another monster from its foul lions even more terrible than it could ever be. The Child of Cthulhu has arisen and the heaven's wept.

This story is so terrible I actually wept as I read it.

A nine year old girl was murdered by her babysitter who was a sex offender living in a town of sex offenders. She moved to this trailer park with her mom who was there to take care of her father who was also a convicted sex offender and who knew the murderer from being in jail with him. 15 other sex offenders lived in this trailer park in "almost every other trailer."

This nine year old girl had a lot of physical and mental issues. Imagine what it must have been like for her. And they let these people live. The actually release them from prison so they can do this again and again.

You know who does this? Lawyers. They are the ones who plea bargin down sentances and get the charges reduced. This murderer had a sex record in Indiana where this took place. Just pleaded to lower counts like trespass and assault in places like Florida.

How can this happen? How can the scumbag ambulance chaser who got this guy out live with himself?

I actually couldn't believe this story when I read it. Follow the link to the story if you want, it is just too upsetting to me.
How can they let people like this live?

The Bride of Wilderstein

Lord Byron: The crudest, savage exhibition of Nature at her worst without, and we three, we elegant three within. I should like to think that an irate Jehovah was pointing those arrows of lightning directly at my head, the unbowed head of George Gordon Lord Byron, England's greatest sinner. But I cannot flatter myself to that extent. Possibly those thunders are for dear Shelley - heaven's applause for England's greatest poet.
Shelley: What of my Mary?
Lord Byron: She is an angel.
Mary: You think so?
Lord Byron: Do you hear? Come, Mary. Come and watch the storm.
Mary: You know how lightning alarms me. Shelley darling, will you please light these candles for me?
Shelley: [laughing] Mary, darling.
Lord Byron: Astonishing creature.
Mary: I, Lord Byron?
Lord Byron: Frightened of thunder, fearful of the dark. And yet you have written a tale that sent my blood into icy creeps.
[Mary laughs]
Lord Byron: Look at her Shelley. Can you believe that bland and lovely brow conceived of Frankenstein, a Monster created from cadavers out of rifled graves? Isn't it astonishing?
Mary: I don't know why you should think so. What do you expect? Such an audience needs something stronger than a pretty little love story. So why shouldn't I write of monsters?
Lord Byron: No wonder Murray's refused to publish the book. He says his reading public would be too shocked.
Mary: It will be published, I think.
Shelley: Then, darling, you will have much to answer for.
Mary: The publishers did not see that my purpose was to write a moral lesson. The punishment that befell a mortal man who dared to emulate God.
Lord Byron: Well, whatever your purpose may have been, my dear, I take great relish in savoring each separate horror. I roll them over on my tongue.
Mary: Don't, Lord Byron. Don't remind me of it tonight.
Lord Byron: What a setting in that churchyard to begin with. The sobbing women, the first plod of earth on the coffin. That was a pretty chill. Frankenstein and the dwarf stealing the body out of its new-made grave, cutting the hanged man down from the gallows where he swung creaking in the wind. The cunning of Frankenstein in his mountain laboratory, picking dead men apart and building up a human Monster, so fearful - so horrible that only a half-crazed brain could have devised. And then the murder! The little child drowned. Henry Frankenstein himself thrown from the top of the burning mill by the very Monster he had created. And it was these fragile white fingers that penned the nightmare.
Shelley: I do think it a shame, Mary, to end your story quite so suddenly.
Mary: That wasn't the end at all. Would you like to hear what happened after that? I feel like telling it. It's a perfect night for mystery and horror. The air itself is filled with monsters.
Lord Byron: I'm all ears. While heaven blasts the night without, open up your pits of hell.
Mary: Well then, imagine yourselves standing by the wreckage of the mill. The fire is dying down. Soon, the bare skeleton of the building will be dissolved. The gaunt rafters against the sky.

Lord Byron: Perhaps a red carpet?

Mary: No milord. That would be Cthulhu's domain. That horror is beyond my ablities to describe.

(The Bride of Wilderstein, 1935)

IT LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Something terrible came to the hills and valleys on that meteor, and something terrible — though I know not in what proportion — still remains.

(The Colour Out of Space 1927)

IT LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The odour rising from the newly opened depths was intolerable, and at length the quick-eared Hawkins thought he heard a nasty, slopping sound down there. Everyone listened, and everyone was listening still when It lumbered slobberingly into sight and gropingly squeezed Its gelatinous green immensity through the black doorway into the tainted outside air of that poison city of madness!

(The Call of Cthulhu 1926)

Here be Monsters

MY Spectre around me night and day

Like a wild beast guards my way;

My Emanation far within

Weeps incessantly for my sin.

‘A fathomless and boundless deep,

There we wander, there we weep;

On the hungry craving wind

My Spectre follows thee behind.

‘He scents thy footsteps in the snow

Wheresoever thou dost go,

Thro’ the wintry hail and rain.

When wilt thou return again?

’Dost thou not in pride and scorn

Fill with tempests all my morn,

And with jealousies and fears

Fill my pleasant nights with tears?

‘Seven of my sweet loves thy knife

Has bereavèd of their life.

Their marble tombs I built with tears,

And with cold and shuddering fears.

‘Seven more loves weep night and day

Round the tombs where my loves lay,

And seven more loves attend each night

Around my couch with torches bright.

‘And seven more loves in my bed

Crown with wine my mournful head,

Pitying and forgiving all

Thy transgressions great and small.

‘When wilt thou return and view My loves,

and them to life renew?

When wilt thou return and live?

When wilt thou pity as I forgive?’

‘O’er my sins thou sit and moan:

Hast thou no sins of thy own?

O’er my sins thou sit and weep,

And lull thy own sins fast asleep.

‘What transgressions I commit

Are for thy transgressions fit.

They thy harlots, thou their slave;

And my bed becomes their grave.

‘Never, never, I return:

Still for victory I burn.

Living, thee alone I’ll have;

And when dead I’ll be thy grave

‘Thro’ the Heaven and Earth and Hell

Thou shalt never, quell:

I will fly and thou pursue:

Night and morn the flight renew.’

‘Poor, pale, pitiable form

That I follow in a storm:

Iron tears and groans of lead

Bind around my aching head.

‘Till I turn from Female love

And root up the Infernal Grove,

I shall never worthy be

To step into Eternity

‘And, to end thy cruel mocks,

Annihilate thee on the rocks,

And another form create

To be subservient to my fate.

‘Let us agree to give up love,

And root up the Infernal Grove;

Then shall we return and see

The worlds of happy Eternity.

‘And throughout all Eternity

I forgive you, you forgive me.

As our dear Redeemer said:

“This the Wine, and this the Bread"

I hate these wet t-shirt contests.

"I hate these wet t-shirt contests."
"Me too. Joan Blondell always wins that slut."
"Well that's not fair, she looks great in a wet t-shirt."
"That's not why she wins. She cheats."
"OH CRAP THEY ARE GOING TO THROW ANOTHER BUCKET OF WATER!!!!"

Coyote

In the history of American Indian tribes, the myth of Old Man Coyote is one of the most prevalent and most beloved. He is the trickster who takes many forms. He teaches lessons to the tribe by way of his words and deeds but he is not to be trusted because things are never as they seem. Here is a story of the Coyote:

A long, long time ago, people did not yet inhabit the earth. A monster walked upon the land, eating all the animals--except Coyote. Coyote was angry that his friends were gone. He climbed the tallest mountain and attached himself to the top. Coyote called upon the monster, challenging it to try to eat him. The monster sucked in the air, hoping to pull in Coyote with its powerful breath, but the ropes were too strong. The monster tried many other ways to blow Coyote off the mountain, but it was no use.

Realizing that Coyote was sly and clever, the monster thought of a new plan. It would befriend Coyote and invite him to stay in its home. Before the visit began, Coyote said that he wanted to visit his friends and asked if he could enter the monster's stomach to see them. The monster allowed this, and Coyote cut out its heart and set fire to its insides. His friends were freed.

Then Coyote decided to make a new animal. He flung pieces of the monster in the four directions; wherever the pieces landed, a new tribe of Indians emerged. He ran out of body parts before he could create a new human animal on the site where the monster had lain. He used the monster's blood, which was still on his hands, to create the Nez Percé, who would be strong and good.

Some times you go into the belly of the beast like Coyote.

Pleased to meetcha! Heh.

So nice to meet you my dear. I am called the "Instapundit" and I have longed to meet with you. My wife is off getting hair transplants and is communing with visting nonenties from the internets, so we can get to know each other.

Have you ever seen full frontal lobe. It can be quite impressive.

Hello, my name is Jeremy.

Hello, my name is Jeremy.....is this the blogger meat up....heh,heh...you must be reader_iam...nice to meet you.

The return of the monkey!

"Doctor, what is your strange obsession with this monkey?"
"Don't you anything, this Molly Picon's monkey. They live along time. He is ninety six years old"
"My goodness, it looks like he has an erection."
"Why of course he does, the stories this ape could tell."
"Well are we going to conduct tests."
"No I am afraid we cannot. We can only test it's health, but it seems it was willed to a young professor in Wisconsin."

Today's gratuitous bath tub scene comes to us from Amityville Long Island.

Get out!
Get OUT!
GET OUT!
GGGGGGGEEEEEEEEETTTTTTTT OOOOOOUUUUUUTTTTT!!!!!!

How quickly they forget....the caravan moves on.

New York Post March 5, 2009

NEW HAVEN, Conn. - A Connecticut woman mauled by a chimpanzee two weeks ago lost her hands, nose, lips and eyelids and may be blind and suffering brain damage - and hospital officials say it's still unclear if her condition can improve at all.
The Cleveland Clinic, revealing the specific injuries yesterday for the first time, told The Associated Press in a statement that 55-year-old Charla Nash also lost the bone structure in her face when she was attacked on Feb. 16 in Stamford, Conn.
Her wounds have been stabilized, but "critical issues still remain related to a significant traumatic brain injury and injuries to her eyes that threaten her vision," the hospital said.

How the owner is not in jail is a mystery to me.

Hey dudes, Marilyn was nothing to sneeze at.

Hey Marilyn Munster (Pat Preist) was nothing to sneeze at. She was pretty hot considered all her relatives were green. This is one preist that could molest this little boy.

I don't think that Jeanie should run away with the poll because of having the hotest photo. We have to work on that.

Here Marilyn is warming up her cootch on the Munstermobile. Smokin'!

A new poll question.

Today is the day for the new poll. Our poll is for your favorite beautiful woman who was surrounded by fools, morons, jerks and criminals.
Our contestants include
Marilyn Munster.
Wrangler Jane from F Troop.
Jeanie from I Dream of Jeanie.
And of course Donna from West Wing.

Which beauty surrounded by monsters and fools was your favorite.

Vote early and vote often.

You mind sees one thing but the reality is something else!

Your mind can play tricks on you. You see something in your minds eye, you visualize it, you idealize it but it is just a chimera. The cold reality is so much different. Things are not what they seem sometimes. The camera can play tricks on all of us.

Can you figure out who this is? I bet you can.

See you tomorrow. Same Bat time. Same Bat channel.

Whats with all this horny Star Trek Stuff?

Nona: There is an old custom among my people. When a woman saves a man's life, he is grateful.
Captain Kirk: And how does he express it.
Nona: Why with a little mombo. Get the Gorilla. Grease him up.
(Star Trek, The Directors Cut, A Private Little War 1967)

Hey I don't talk about the law, because I only post about things that I have a clue about.

New York Times

By DANNY HAKIM and RAYMOND HERNANDEZ
Published: December 19, 2008

As Caroline Kennedy embarked on a tour of upstate New York this week, camera crews and reporters in tow, the state’s attorney general, Andrew M. Cuomo, was announcing a $2.7 million settlement with the operator of an illegal dump in Lackawanna.
Ms. Kennedy ended up on the cable television networks, in national newspapers and on blogs everywhere. Mr. Cuomo got a story in The Buffalo News.
Since he returned to the state capital two years ago, Mr. Cuomo, son of a former governor, has thrown himself into his job, tackling issues large and small. And he has softened the in-your-face style that earned him enemies years ago.
So when it became clear that the Senate seat held by Hillary Rodham Clinton would become open, Mr. Cuomo restrained himself from overt campaigning and retreated to the background. That left the stage to Ms. Kennedy, who has marched out front and become the candidate everyone is talking about — and the favorite for the appointment.
That, friends say, has left Mr. Cuomo feeling outfoxed and frustrated. “It’s driving him crazy,” said one confidant of Mr. Cuomo’s, who spoke to the attorney general about the Senate seat this week. “He’s boxed in. He can’t do anything except fume, and he is fuming.”
Assemblyman John J. McEneny, an Albany Democrat and a longtime observer of New York politics, suggested the process was especially vexing to Mr. Cuomo because it was not clear how aggressive those under consideration by the governor should be.
“It’s got to be a very frustrating and even painful process,” he said, referring to Mr. Cuomo’s position. “In a campaign, you would know what to do. But it’s unclear what the rules are here. And that just adds to the frustration.”
Gov. David A. Paterson, who will make the appointment, has said that he and Mr. Cuomo have discussed the position, but will not say more, and Mr. Cuomo has been circumspect in public.
“We had this conversation,” Mr. Cuomo told a reporter in the capital this week. “The decision is up to the governor.”
Mr. Cuomo’s aides insist that he has not asked for the job and is content as attorney general. He has plenty on his plate, including possibly involving his office in the federal case against the financier Bernard L. Madoff.
As for the Senate seat, people with knowledge of his thinking say Mr. Cuomo believes Ms. Kennedy’s public bid opened the door for him to campaign for it. While he has not ruled the job out, he has decided not to embark on a public campaign, they said.“He’s happy doing what he’s doing," one top aide to Mr. Cuomo said, speaking on condition of anonymity because of the sensitivity of the process.
The situation is especially tricky for Mr. Cuomo, 51, a one-time boy wonder who began his political career in his 20s as a top adviser to his father, Mario M. Cuomo, and became a cabinet secretary under President Bill Clinton before the age of 40.
His ambitions and his brazenness have sometimes landed him in trouble, especially in 2002, when he alienated the black political establishment by running for governor rather than backing the bid of the state comptroller, H. Carl McCall, who would have been New York’s first black chief executive. Mr. Cuomo was forced to bow out to avoid a humiliating defeat.
The problem for Cuomo is that he never earned anything in his life either. If he wants to run he should just run. He can put pressure on Patterson to counteract Kennedy's pull. One of his major problems is that he made a lot of enemies. There is an old adage, be nice to the people on the way up because you are going to meet them on the way down. So he has to get down and dirty if he wants the job. But he doesn't want to do that. He wants it handed to him.

Patterson is a fool if he names either one of them. They will have no gratitude to him and he gets not practical benefit. He should name a Hispanic politician who actually ran for something and can give a credible performance. Better yet an Hispanic woman. That's why as I have said the best person to name is Nydia Velasquez a Brooklyn congresswoman. Although she is very liberal she at least is honest and hardworking and will work for her constituents.
Or he can name Christine Quinn the speaker of the City Council. She is a lesbian who is hooked into the gay political community which would help Patterson in his bid for re-election.

So to coin a phrase, pick the Homo not Andrew Coumo. Or at least the lesbian.