Um…did you have a mini stroke, your first sentence is gibberish, not unusual from you but concerning.

The same bachelors degree can be gotten from Phoenix University online, so maybe it wasn’t easy for you, but it’s not an advanced or difficult BS degree to earn.
It’s not even circuitry design, just basic repair and manufacture skills. You don’t really need to know how circuits work, only how to diagnose and replace them when they fail. Essentially how to read a multi meter, manual, and how to solder. You’re a service tech, my brother had more advanced electronic skills when he was 12 and rebuilt/upgraded his apple 2 computer at home. Don’t pretend you have some advanced electronics degree, you have the bare minimum degree to be a professional service tech. 🤦‍♂️

Jethro wouldn’t have taken as electives, much less aced advanced molecular biology, or advanced placement B/C calculus and statistics. Jethro couldn’t tell the difference between your, you’re, and yore, or there, their, and they’re…that’s definitely more your level and speed friendo. 😂

Lol. Is that what I said, or a ridiculous straw man you’re setting up to knock down?

Your fact free ilk are the decimation of a democracy that lasted over two centuries. Putting party above patriotism, principal, and phact (misspelled for alliterative purposes).

Yes, I watched some, and the trial isn’t the only source of info. I posted the video of him drinking and flashing white power signs. His own recorded actions are proof enough.
Here it is again…..



No bob, I’m talking about you, you are the one whining that the media isn’t unbiased and in the same breath posting insanely biased, partisan, fact free nonsense you call news….and god damn it it’s you’re - you are…not your - belonging to you….not yore - in ancient times . Learn English comrade. Patriots know their native tongue. What language DO you know, Bobski? Is it Russian or Mandarin?

terrible irony.

these types of laws in a land where red/blue question the competence of each other.

the worst of it is that the castle doctrine is way saner. and installed by our elders of yore.

wouldn't it make more sense if our ancestors supported self-defense in times of less policing, education or other resources? even w/the majority of people living in rural communities, and literacy rates sustainably lower they expected people to have a certain amount of sense. if a person shot another, there had better very good reason to do so.

maybe that's the rub. our foreparents wanted better. not less.

She speaks like a pedagogue from the days of yore.



18 1/2 hours from the last comment! Tap tap tap... this thing on?

Daaaaaaaamn! I ain't been "You're the wizard stoned" in AGES!

Every now and then, I get a little misty-eye'd for the days of yore when ultra-high-grade pot wasn't available at every corner store.

I recall the days of lurking narcs in city parks; being out in the middle of a drought; going to a head shop to buy a bong then getting kicked out 'cuz I asked for it wrong (the magic word was "Tobacco", not "pot", you twat!)

The pot was stemmy, the sellers seedy, and I didn't care because I was hella needy.

But once a year, just 'fore November, would come the time I most remember because it was in those shortening days when I'd hear a rumor of Purple Haze, Ghost Train OG -- I'd be stoned for DAYS! Finally, the good stuff came from coastal plots, a plethora of the finest pots; time to dance and restore my stash: shit, I might even score some HASH!

My friends would come by and we'd all get high, never aware of time passing us by. We laughed, we munched, we floated along with hits from the joints and pulls from the bong. We never imagined dabs or wax, we were satisfied with bud: nothing wrong with those facts.

Now I buy an a gram or two -- Dirty Girl; Gorilla Glue -- and satisfied that my wife's in bed, I once again become a Head. I remember all those days gone by when there was no greater goal than just getting high. I recall them fondly -- if somewhat hazy -- and know that life without pot is just a little too crazy.

Comment hidden because you are ignoring dag. (show it anyway)

Wow - that was a golden oldie from days of yore. ;-)

Comment hidden because you are ignoring dag. (show it anyway)

Thanks Lucky, it's a great update with just a hint of nostalgia for VideoSift of yore. Love it.

Eärendil was a mariner
that tarried in Arvernien;
he built a boat of timber felled
in Nimbrethil to journey in;
her sails he wove of silver fair,
of silver were her lanterns made,
her prow was fashioned like a swan,
and light upon her banners laid.

In panoply of ancient kings,
in chainéd rings he armoured him;
his shining shield was scored with runes
to ward all wounds and harm from him;
his bow was made of dragon-horn,
his arrows shorn of ebony,
of silver was his habergeon,
his scabbard of chalcedony;
his sword of steel was valiant,
of adamant his helmet tall,
an eagle-plume upon his crest,
upon his breast an emerald.

Beneath the Moon and under star
he wandered far from northern strands,
bewildered on enchanted ways
beyond the days of mortal lands.
From gnashing of the Narrow Ice
where shadow lies on frozen hills,
from nether heats and burning waste
he turned in haste, and roving still
on starless waters far astray
at last he came to Night of Naught,
and passed, and never sight he saw
of shining shore nor light he sought.
The winds of wrath came driving him,
and blindly in the foam he fled
from west to east and errandless,
unheralded he homeward sped.

There flying Elwing came to him,
and flame was in the darkness lit;
more bright than light of diamond
the fire upon her carcanet.
The Silmaril she bound on him
and crowned him with the living light
and dauntless then with burning brow
he turned his prow; and in the night
from Otherworld beyond the Sea
there strong and free a storm arose,
a wind of power in Tarmenel;
by paths that seldom mortal goes
his boat it bore with biting breath
as might of death across the grey
and long-forsaken seas distressed:
from east to west he passed away.

Through Evernight he back was borne
on black and roaring waves that ran
o'er leagues unlit and foundered shores
that drowned before the Days began,
until he heard on strands of pearl
where ends the world the music long,
where ever-foaming billows roll
the yellow gold and jewels wan.
He saw the Mountain silent rise
where twilight lies upon the knees
of Valinor, and Eldamar
beheld afar beyond the seas.
A wanderer escaped from night
to haven white he came at last,
to Elvenhome the green and fair
where keen the air, where pale as glass
beneath the Hill of Ilmarin
a-glimmer in a valley sheer
the lamplit towers of Tirion
are mirrored on the Shadowmere.

He tarried there from errantry,
and melodies they taught to him,
and sages old him marvels told,
and harps of gold they brought to him.
They clothed him then in elven-white,
and seven lights before him sent,
as through the Calacirian
to hidden land forlorn he went.
He came unto the timeless halls
where shining fall the countless years,
and endless reigns the Elder King
in Ilmarin on Mountain sheer;
and words unheard were spoken then
of folk of Men and Elven-kin,
beyond the world were visions showed
forbid to those that dwell therein.

A ship then new they built for him
of mithril and of elven-glass
with shining prow; no shaven oar
nor sail she bore on silver mast:
the Silmaril as lantern light
and banner bright with living flame
to gleam thereon by Elbereth
herself was set, who thither came
and wings immortal made for him,
and laid on him undying doom,
to sail the shoreless skies and come
behind the Sun and light of Moon.

From Evereven's lofty hills
where softly silver fountains fall
his wings him bore, a wandering light,
beyond the mighty Mountain Wall.
From World's End then he turned away,
and yearned again to find afar
his home through shadow journeying,
and burning as an island star
on high above the mists he came,
a distant flame before the Sun,
a wonder ere the waking dawn
where grey the Norland waters run.

And over Middle-earth he passed
and heard at last the weeping sore
of women and of elven-maids
in Elder Days, in years of yore.
But on him mighty doom was laid,
till Moon should fade, an orbéd star
to pass, and tarry never more
on Hither Shores where mortals are;
for ever still a herald on
an errand that should never rest
to bear his shining lamp afar,
the Flammifer of Westernesse.

The more I think about it, the more Russia seems like the wild west of yore.

nostalgic *promote for sifters of yore...

Yes....


Yore.

Such a pitch perfect rendition of Saturday morning cartoons of yore

"Open borders" is one of the dumber schizophrenic ideas espoused by libertarianism, which in turn is its own wortst enemy.

Holier-than-thou libertarianism demands that no human infringe on the rights and property of another human. But we have a welfare state, like it or not, and it attracts the parasitic from other countries while indulging too many of our own homegrown slobs.

We legal citizens pay into our flawed system for entitlements; illegals do not. The bulk of the money illegals make here gets sent back to Mexico. Illegals drain the government school system (which should be scrapped, but that's another post), they burden the criminal justice system, they bankrupt hospitals and are spreading once-under-control diseases like leprosy. Cull the cited number of 25 Americans killed daily by illegals' crimes and driving to 10. Is that acceptable?

Racism? Whom invades whose country and then refuses to assmilate?

Mexicans do not have any 'right' to America's bounty, nor any other countries' wealth or resources, without just compensation. We should be fining the Mexican thugverment a barrel of oil per day for every illegal here.

As evil as government gets, it is not always the root cause. There are real external threats in the world. In days of yore, people tolerated the reigns of foolish or cruel monarchs in exchange for keeping barbarians outside the gate.

Without common borders, language and culture a nation is doomed.

Research how Mexico defends its southern border. That's diversity worth celebrating.

http://www.usillegalaliens.com/