The Road To Popehat: Thanksgiving Leftovers Edition

It's time for the Road to Popehat, where we look at the traffic logs, see what searches brought you here, and wonder if voting is a good thing.

Thanksgiving objectivism: GRAVY IS GRAVY.

naturally assumed you knew what was going on: I love this defense, but it never works, in court or at home.

can we file a low suit on physic attackers: I think I found a way to make amends to Charles Carreon.

how rizona law applies to fuck parents having arguments and taking children somewhere else for the time being: TWO ways.

o my god Leave me alone: Keep saying it, but it doesn't work.

how to get it so people have to download images in email: A marketeer's evil is never finished.

why cheerleaders are won't shut up but tell someone else to shut up: High school: second closest place to hell on Earth.

what do you call a place where lawyers work: And in first place . . .

"big balls" being kicked: Rule 34, or seeker of humorous soccer videos? I prefer not to know.

am I going to prison for that SLAPP order: Regrettably, no.

ken popehat groupie: Line forms to the right.

Last 5 posts by Ken White


  1. says

    > Thanksgiving objectivism: GRAVY IS GRAVY.

    1) LOL!

    2) We would have also accepted: "To give thanks for a turkey you purchased yourself (with copper ore you mined yourself) is immoral."

  2. Connie says

    Which is preferable though? A low suit or a high suit? I guess a high suit would be seen in a higher court, right? I mean, that's logic for you.

  3. says

    This is as good a forum as any for a number of my otherwise unclassifiable odds and ends about balls, ball accessories, cheerleaders, hypocritical motormouths, catty girls, and guys who unartfully navigate minefields with the occasionally catty womenfolk in their lives (i.e., me).

    For what it's worth, my dear friend Baywatch (more about her on my blog) was a high school cheerleader. Against the odds and thanks to her impressive graciousness and forgiving, I've managed to stay in touch with her from time to time in the three years since we first met in a study group for our human physiology course. This is a very fortuitous outcome for anyone who gloms onto a fellow community college student in the midst of a poorly disguised raging crush.

    The funny thing is that it wasn't Baywatch who gave me the STFU glares, but a couple of her much more openly nerdy friends. One of these girls was a roommate of hers who had been in our physiology class and ended up in my anatomy lab section the following semester. An unfortunate rumor took hold that I was hostile to this girl and totally unwilling to talk to her, when in fact I was avoiding her only because she was awfully quiet and reserved and I didn't want to drag her into a bunch of potential romantic drama that was absolutely none of her doing. Halfway through the semester, Baywatch, who was not enrolled at our community college that semester, sent me a Facebook message asking on Quiet Roomie's behalf whether I'd be willing to help her out with some course material. I felt bad that I had come across as cruel when I meant nothing of the sort. There was obviously some kind of girlfriend thing going on that I was hopeless to understand, let alone short-circuit.

    The other girl who gave me the glare, Humboldt Crunch, had a rather volatile personality. I heard her and Quiet Roomie gossiping about me on occasion, and as much as it freaked me out at the time (mainly because I feared that Baywatch would shut me out for good), they had cause.

    I would occasionally ask questions or make comments in class that I considered mildly pedantic at worst but definitely pertinent and reasonable in tone, and Humboldt Crunch would glare at me. I figured that it was just one of her mood swings. (I mean that not as a girl thing, but as a Humboldt Crunch thing; God knows Baywatch is almost never like that, even when she's drunk.) Then we started the reproductive section, and Humboldt Crunch's interest in the material shot through the roof. When our lab instructor, a rather shy woman, raised the subject of genital rings, Humboldt Crunch eagerly raised her hand and shouted, "They have rings that go around the cock and balls! They go right around the COCK AND BALLS!" That was the loudest thing anyone ever said that semester.

    I shouldn't dog on her too much, though. When we discussed vasectomies, I sheepishly asked whether they affect the quality of male orgasm, and Humboldt Crunch had a definitive answer at the ready: "No, they don't. They don't at all. It still looks the same, feels the same, tastes the same." That was one moment when I very much preferred crudity to vagueness.

    Actually, I love me some low and vulgar conversation with the ladies as a matter of course, and plenty of women recognize this. It's just that I'd rather not be accused of a party foul by the town crier of cockandballery.

  4. J says

    It took me more than a moment to realize that big balls being kicked had nothing to do with arresting judgment or producing documents. Ken meant the other Rule 34. Doh.