Yeah, little pointy ear guy. How about the skull right above him.

Posting off topic remarks on someone elses topic is a sign of extremely bad manners or lack of comprehension. You choose.

Sorry Bobby, fishin is a doin, you may like it lot but it's doin sumpin. Looking at the comp is basically chewin the fat and doin some shopping. There comes a time when your doins become somewhat limited. I don't roller skate anymore no matter how many cuties have new keys to try out.

Margret Sanger.

Who said Astronomers have an eye for Art?

I read a Don Dinsdale post about Man visits Brothel at this link:
https://www.onepoliticalplaza.com/t-151602-1.html

It reminded me of an incident in the past I thought I would share with you. It is as the title indicate called "The Sleeve Job"


That story reminds me of a young acquaintance of mine who was engaged to be married. He was, of course, eager to start conjugal relations but despite his importuning, his fiancée, Mary, remained firm in her refusal. “John” she said, it’s only four months to our wedding date and I have vowed to remain chaste and virginal until I am wed.

John reluctantly broke off his advances and abided with her decision but he was not satisfied. She was beautiful and since he was in her company daily he kept renewing his assault and she was equally adamant that she would not yield. After a month of this frustrating attempt to gain the forbidden fruit even his Fiancé was feeling the strain. At last she said “John, if you wait until we are married I will give you a Sleeve Job on our wedding night.

John was delighted; his new bride would give him a sexual experience he had never heard of. After a week of trying to find out what a sleeve job was and failing in his attempts to get an early one from his fiancé, he finally gave up and decided to go to the professionals. He inquired among his fellows and found out where the brothels were located and which were the better class establishments.

As luck would have it he arrived at the same brothel that employed Natalie. As he walked in he observed the ladies in various states of dishabille some with whips and manacles, others wearing little more than a smile. A bountiful celebration of woman flesh in full display, were lounging on the rich velvet cushions, of the divans, presenting their most favorable features as he passed by. Some, more Circe like, called to him as he passed promising delights unheard of before.

He thought, “I will surely find what I want here.”

The Madam approached him bidding him good evening and asked, “How may we assist you” John replied “I have a specific need and may I enquire as to who is your most knowledgeable, experienced, Courtesan? “That would be Natalie” the madam replied, but she is also the most expensive woman in this establishment. John replied, “Cost is not a concern, I want Natalie to do a specific sex act.” Natalie smiled, another diaper weirdo she thought, but another thousand dollars for her broker to invest.

The Madam said, “We accommodate a wide range of tastes, and I am sure we will satisfy your needs, what is it you would like Natalie to do?” John replied, “I want Natalie to give me a Sleeve Job.”

With that, pandemonium ensued. The Madam screamed at him ”What kind of animal are you, you horrid pervert?” She began pummeling him and the entourage of house maidens followed suit. They scratched him with their long nails they gouged him with nail files and punctured him with hairpins; they ripped and tore his clothing to better reach tender flesh to abuse. Natalie was especially vicious in beating him on the head with her stiletto-heeled pumps. After severely mauling him and beating him senseless he was unceremoniously dumped on the street by the houseman.

A passing stranger noted his bloody, beaten body and called 911. The ambulance arrived along with the police, but John could not admit what happened so he fabricated a story of an attempted mugging by a pack of hooligans who were scared off by a passing car. The police didn’t believe his story but it was all they had and he wasn’t pressing charges so they left him to recuperate overnight in the hospital.

The next day he was discharged and his fiancé picked him up. She was entirely solicitous about John’s obvious wounds and when they were at home she faithfully nursed him in changing his wound dressings and commiserating with the fierce persistent headache that was the result of the drum Tattoo Natalie had beaten on his skull.

After a week of recovery, John the Horn-dog attempted to take advantage of the close physical intimacy of the last week but Mary remained determined that John would have to wait. “But Mary”, John said, “I’m dying to have a sleeve job; can you at least tell me about it?” “No”, said Mary That would spoil the surprise. Trust me it is worth the wait.”

John kept trying and falling and after two weeks he was sufficiently healed that he gave thought to repeating his attempt to get a Lady of the Evening to give him that Sleeve Job. It had become a mania with him, the holy grail of sex acts and it was unattainable because of Mary’s iron will. John gave some thought to the problem and decided hem had aimed too high. He needed a lower class of Prostitute, those more likely to do anything for money.

John returned to Chippie Row as that part of State Street was known and went to a brothel known as Kitty’s Cat House where the girls were known to be down, dirty and cheap. John walked in and instead of the bevy of pulchritudinous beauties, as at the last house these girls were total skanks. Their behaviour matched their appearance with several dropping their drawers and raising their leg to take his picture. One of them called out “C’mon over here big boy I’ll give you something you never had before. John wondered, “Is that Syphilis gonorrhea or leprosy”. John approached the “Madam”, a six foot three Black man weighing about 350 pounds named Goldie. One of the many chains around his neck had that legend and the multiple rings on one enormous ham hand had the lett5ers GOLDIE.

Goldie switched the cigar he was chewing on to the side of his mouth and growled,”Whatcha want.” John said, “I want one of your girls to do something special; for me.” Goldie said, No picking you take the next one up. Gertie get your ass over here.” Gertie ambled over; she was obviously supplementing her social security pension by turning tricks at Goldie’s. N Gertie smirked at john and eyed him liker a cat toying with a mouse. “Watcha want big guy, you want it rough, standing up in a hammock or what, I’ve done em all”. John said “Actually I would like to have a Sleeve Job”.

The last thing John remembered was Goldies massive ring covered fist crashing into the side of, his face. Being unconscious was the only thing that prevented the “girls” from kicking John to death or as Gertie was attempting to do, removing any possibility of progeny.

This time when he hit the street the police cruiser was sitting there with the cops on doughnut and coffee beak. In reality they were picking up the weekly contribution to the benevolent fund from the houses. There was no possibility of any fabricated story but the Cop’s were easily satisfied; one of them said Buddy you can stiff Goldies girls but you can’t stiff Goldie. John didn’t bother correcting him and they dropped him off at the hospital Emergency Room.

Another call to Mary and she came to pick him up. This time there was a distinct coolness sand John knew he had screwed up big time. “Sweetheart”, Mary said, “What were you doing down on State Street again?” You know that is a bad section of town so what are you doing there?” Thinking fast John said “I was cutting through to the smoke shop on the corner of State and Market. It is actually a bookie joint and I can get the racing form and place some bets on the ponies there.” Mary exploded, “John, you know I will not tolerate gambling. You need to make a choice right now, give up gambling or our engagement is done. John didn't care a bit about gambling; it was only an excuse for his being in whorehouse row so he pondered and finally said “Mary, I love you and I want you to be my wife. You mean more to me than any bet. I will vow to you that I will never gamble again.”

Mary was mollified by that speech and simply said “Thank you John.” John realized he had pushed his luck and was not likely to survive another episode or have a wife either so he decided to refrain from any more investigation or cajoling of Mary for the little over a month left before the wedding. John took many cold showers in the next month until finally the big day arrived.

From the entrance of the bride at the church, Lohengrin Wedding March and the vows, everything moved in slow motion for John. Endless thank yous and congratulations, introductions to people who may or may not have been relatives, it was all a blur. His mind was on the Sleeve Job and it seemed this day would never end.

The photographers with their fussy placements of the bridal gown, the mob scene photos, the candid shots, over and done, now on to the reception to complete the events of the day. More handshakes, food, dancing, music, thank yous, touring the room to say hello to all and finally, at long last the escape. John had rented a suite at a luxury resort for their wedding night to “rest up” for their trip to Europe.

In the privacy of their rooms, Mary turned to John and said, “Husband, you have been patient and now it is time to complete my promise. I am going to go change and get ready. Watch television until I call you.” John turned on the TV and never realized he was watching a test pattern because his attention was riveted on the bath/dressing rooms. The Sleeve Job was only minutes away. “John” Mary called. He leaped from the chair and ran to the dressing room door. It was locked. Mary he said in an inquiring tone of voice. “Listen carefully John, I want you to come in and take a shower, towel dry and then coat yourself with Vaseline from head to toe. Be generous, there is a big bottle on the sink. After that come into the bedroom. But I want you to close your eyes and don’t peek when I come out; it is part of the surprise.

John dutifully closed his eyes and heard the door open. He caught a whiff of Chanel #5 and hoped Mary was following Marylyn Monroe’s favorite nighttime attire. He entered the bathroom and set a new speed record for wash and dry. He hurried to the sink and slathered the Vaseline all over his chest, arms, back, legs, torso and feet. He left big gobs between his toes and since this was part of the Sleeve Job experience he slathered it on the soles of his feet.

John went to the door to the bedroom and there was Mary, on the bed. Her beautiful, voluptuous body was dressed in a sheer diaphanous negligee, more of a suggestion than a cover. The lighting in the room made the negligee transparant and there was his golden beauty that he had lusted for so long. She was smiling and beckoning to him. John’s heart raced and he took off running to get to her side when his feet lost traction as he tried to turn around the side of the bed. His head smashed into the massive footboard corner, right on the temple, killing him instantly.

From that day to this, no one has ever found out what in hell is a Sleeve Job.

The title of your post says more than the content. Do you have any evidence the Bishop of his diocese is excommunicating him? I agree that if any one deserves it, it is Cuomo. Catholic teaching says no formal decree is necessary, you can excommunicate yourself by your own deeds.

Your premises are carefully selected and lead only to your conclusion. There are a few principles you ignore such as:

You cannot spend your way to prosperity by borrowing money and devaluing the currency.
The power to tax is the power to destroy. Maximum taxation produces maximum destruction.
Inflation is not driven by taxation, it is a function of the devaluing of the currency.

Congress produces no good or service which is compensated by money. Any funds they have must be taken forcibly from the individuals or companies who produced it. A very early example of this force was the use of the militia by George Washington to suppress the Whiskey Rebellion in western Pennsylvania.
The issue was taxation of moonshine which the farmers produced, as a means of preserving their crops, which was readily converted into cash.

Government is inherently inefficient and anything it regulates or controls inevitably becomes too expensive or is produced in inadequate quantities. See the VA as an example and consider the lack of medical attention decreed by government fiat in England as well as Canada.

In a simple answer, yes. As a qualified answer the presence of so many ilogical, ill-informed, biased posters, allows me to hone my own views which, as you will no doubt recognize, are immensely superior to all others.

Seriously, the only value to this forum that I see is that these rabid rants and flights of fancy forces me to think about these issues and to clarify what basis I use to judge the validity or morality of these posts. In short, I do not think that the majority of posters here are ever going to change their minds on any topic.

My responses to various posts have become shorter and shorter because it simply is too much effort to expend, in an essentially useless endeavor, changing anyone's viewpoint. Those who are of like mind need only a few words of agreement and the others would need beating over the head with an encyclopedia to effect a change in their opinion.

Don it was great until I realized I have lost my native Italian. That video's spoken part and the next video's conversation and singing were incomprehensible. All I have left is very bad German and
French.

If we are going to start declaring others are President then I want Maxine Impeesh-Foty-Fi Waters to be President. I am convinced I am a black woman and I know that my Homey will take good care of me.

Your statement, as well as Sicilianthing's unrelated response, give evidence that neither of you comprehend what was written.

No need to wonder, we are not doing better.

How clever of you to have noticed.

If you live in Canuckistan it is.