Bob Weir's Shorts - Warning Graphic

 

You Were Warned

What is it with Bob Weir's shorts? I texted a musical friend to find out. "Hey fella, you know I'm a big fan of the Dead but what's with BOB WEIR'S SHORTS? Here, look at this."

Wow. See those shorts?

He did, "That's wrong and he knows it." Here at the Compound we agree. Yes, all wrong, but why did pop icon, alt celebrity superstar "Bob" go down this path. 

Not good, Bob, not good at all

Was he deliberately trying to strike people blind or was he maybe somehow "confused"? After all, it didn't have to be this way; Weir's perfectly capable of playing in long trousers. Check it out, it's possible:

Let's hope he sticks to it.

Cheers,

LSP

WTF Anthony

 

Via Zero:

While recent attention has been focused on Dr. Anthony Fauci's National Institutes of Health (NIH) funding the genetic manipulation of bat coronaviruses in the same town as the bat coronavirus pandemic emerged, a bipartisan group of lawmakers have demanded answers over 'sick' experiments on drugged puppies, according to The Hill.

"Our investigators show that Fauci’s NIH division shipped part of a $375,800 grant to a lab in Tunisia to drug beagles and lock their heads in mesh cages filled with hungry sand flies so that the insects could eat them alive," writes nonprofit organization the White Coat Waste Project. "They also locked beagles alone in cages in the desert overnight for nine consecutive nights to use them as bait to attract infectious sand flies."

 

Wow. These people are sick.

Light v. Dark,

LSP

SPACE ROCK

Way to go, "Captain" Calvert. But lest we forget...

There's always Bob Weir's shorts.

Ad Astra,

LSP

Mimetic Amusement

 

Perhaps this infographic's helpful.

Whatever the case, be careful out there.

After all, you never know who you'll run into.

Terrifying, what?

So hedge your bets and get one of these.

Cheers, and happy Feast of St. James,

LSP

Just

Via NFO, and if you're not scared maybe you should be. Where will it end? We can imagine several scenarios, none of them good. In the meanwhile, smart people are saying their prayers, laying in food, cleaning weapons, loading mags and getting prepped up for the Eschaton.

I remain,

Your Pal,

LSP

What A Good Day

 

You know what it's like, some days are sluggish, unproductive, but not this day. Say Morning Prayer, read the news, then drive to Whitney for breakfast with one of the flock. What a good guy, he has a ranch outside of Valley Mills and scorns our Globalist, Illuminati, MillSoc Overlords as much as the best of us. Fun to shoot with, too.

So that was good and before you could whistle Dixie there I was, back at the Compound getting stuck in to the next evolution. Viz. Get a magazine ready to send to a printer in the DFW metrosprawl. 

Defende Nos

"Text Frame Options," "Place," "Draw Text Frame," choose compelling graphic to illustrate articles you hopefully don't have to rewrite, and all of that. Seriously, sometimes you have to wonder, is English your first language. 

17 Buck Threeper

Well it pretty much was in this instance and I got the job done, result. Sharp looking book, off to press you go. Next step? Drive out to the lake church and say Mass, always uplifting, and stop by a country supermarket on the way for provisions. Lo and behold, they had a Threeper at pre-Bidenflation prices. Wow. Buy it and thank God for his great goodness.

Chilled

Now, back in this congenial if asset-stripped Texan farming community, it's time to celebrate the several victories of the day.

Cheers,

LSP

Lies

 

Have we ever been lied to on such a massive scale? Here, look at the first ever womyn admiral. What a brave naval officer! Check it out and note the ribbons, such valor.

Take that, fellow serfs. Behold the brazen, in your face lie of a woman that's not a woman and a, cough, admiral that's not a naval officer. But don't you dare speak the truth because hate. But demented trannies pretending to be sailors aside, we're apparently living in a deluge of lies.

A seemingly never ending, constant, flood of deceit geared to make you a willing victim. Of what? Of a brave new world in which right and wrong, truth and beauty, freedom and sanity itself are erased under the rainbow wellington boot of power. And all for our own good. So knuckle under to your Martha's Vineyard Overlords, peasants.

Or something like that, and I won't bang on though it's tempting, but remember this. Satan is the Father of Lies and a "murderer from the beginning." Remember too, Baphomet is trans.

"For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." (Eph. 6:12)

Deus Vult,

LSP

Let's Go Brandon

 

Cheers,

LSP

Everything's Just Fine

Except that it's not. Standby, punters, for rough and stormy seas ahead. You might even want to lay in food, water and ammo. But what am I saying, you are already. Result, and don't worry, if it's not needed you can always give to the poor who are always with us.

Hero

Seriously, I'm getting a disaster vibe, not unlike early 2020. Remember when we ran out of food and toilet paper? Amplify that by a factor of clown world insanity and do yourself a favor, get prepped up and sharpen the kukri.

In the meanwhile, Archbishop Vigano continues to rock. 

Your Best Friend,

LSP

Now You're Vax Dead

 

Colin Powell, our famous, heroic, selfless, honest, not in-it-for-profit general has died. He was 84. Powell was tragically killed in his dotage by the Wu-Flu or China Virus, which is really weird because he was vaccinated against it. 

And that's why we all have to get vaccinated, mandate style, because that'll stop us getting killed by the Bat Bug, just like the vax did for honest general Powell. Except that it didn't. Kyrie, are we at peak insanity? Apparently not.

Two Killers One Demon

In the meanwhile, why wasn't this honorable, truthful, honest general given exemption from the killer vax? You know, like Congress and Federal Judges or postal workers? Perhaps he would have survived the flu.

But maybe the octogenarian believed his own swampish marketing. And now he's dead. 

Remember, lest you judge, the repentant thief.

Your Pal,

LSP 

Country Life

 

We were standing in a field, in the country. "Dam, LSP, with these clowns in charge anything could happen." Thus spoke my friend, a Master Plumber, and I agreed, "Ain't that the truth. Looks to me like the cheese slid off the cracker."

He didn't argue, "Slid off and fixin' to hit the ground." Spit, "Point being, I don't trust banks, 'specially with this $600 IRS bullsh*t. Don't want no part of that." Yes, and we gazed at the big Texan horizon and a pile of old T posts laying there nonchalantly in the sun while time slowed down.

"Thing is," I offered, remembering a bloodied monkey, "Put the cash in a safe and wake up and find USD$'s worth 2 Cents. That's great until it's not." My friend stared aggressively at a rusting pile of scrap iron, laying there under the glaring October sun, "I like the safe strategy, but there is that."

Another pause and a fat dove flew over, "Boom!" we went in tandem, airgunning cerulean, "If we were loaded up that'd be two misses, or maybe four dove. Limit out." My pal grinned through his Oakleys, "Gotta invest in something man, park that cash. Silver?"

My mind went back to a roll-on, a great weight of sterling and a ferocious simian, "I know all about that." Meanwhile, lazy birds flew overhead in the absence of flak and I thought fiduciary, "So where you gonna put that money, fella? How about DOGE$?"

A nod towards an horizon not long tamed, "I got that dog coin, and plenty of him. Not fixing to sell. Unloading Bit and Ether tho. Sell those coins. And it's all good as long we got phones."

"And internet?"

"Yes."

We thought about this and then wisdom opened the door, "You know the old country saying?" My friend turned his head, "What?" I replied, "They ain't making anymore land." Minds met as one, exactly. 

I file this exciting and true post under "country life" and "anything else I care to think about." Also under "concealed carry." Better safe than sorry, what?

Mind how you go,

LSP

Buttigeig Redux

 

Gag

Keen-eyed readers, all three of you, might remember a weirdly disturbing photo of our transport supremo in a hospital bed, holding a baby and looking at another man, also holding a baby. You'd be forgiven for thinking they were blasphemously mimicking something holy, a mother and her husband overjoyed at the birth of a child.

One glance tells you it's all wrong, there is no mother, there is no birth, nothing to warrant a hospital bed. This thing is a fake, an affair of the mind and a blasphemous parody.  But pay attention to detail, here's Katherine:

I've finally discovered what bothers me the most about that photo of these two guys and the babies. It's about them, not the children! They're gazing into each other's eyes, and the swaddled babies are props. Any new mother, in a similar photo, besides looking very tired, will be looking at her child!

 

Yes, it's all about them. Pride, gentlemen and gentlewomen, comes before a fall. We can imagine the magnitude of the approaching collapse. 

Eschaton,

LSP