BellGab.com Archive

In one of the threads, Mod Emeritus Liberace asked me to reply to him by PM.  Then I discovered that the PM link no longer appeared in my toolbar:



So I am wondering if this is a glitch with my account; something general that I haven't heard about, or Libby just fucking with me.  Kindly advise soonest.

My landlady said she doesn't maintain her strawberries very well because the birds just eat them. 

This topic, in and of itself, is utterly riveting, but it gets better.  She told me that if I heard certain sounds coming from inside the house that it was okay to pass through the screen door and come in for a glass of lemonade.

I'm going to stop here, because sex talk is dirty and disgusting unless I choose to respond to it, in which case it is okay.  Just watch my posts and be guided accordingly.

#16chan

Most of us wash every day or at least regularly.  The dirt and soap goes down the drain, never to be seen again.   Why then do we keep getting dirty?  And why do men insist that women be dirty when they clearly should not be?  Is it being recycled by the government in an attempt to strike down a woman's right to an abortion?

#16chan #menarepigs

Half of the posts on Bellgab are by 14/Sixteen now.  You either like her or you don't.  Let's just make it official and change the site name to SixteenGab. 

Art's dead, it's not like he fuckin cares.  And it would cleanse the site of any discussion about (ew) sex.  Who needs that, really.

...if this chick's commentary is any indication.  Nell Frisbie.  She's a Trump delegate and a realtor from Mississippi.  Here's some of her commentary for Yahoo:

"Monday night’s theme will be illegal immigration. One speaker I’m really excited to hear is Jamiel Shaw Sr. Shaw’s son was killed by an illegal alien in 2008 â€" he was gunned down in the middle of the street for no reason at all. The gunman who killed this young man had been arrested three times before he killed Shaw’s son and was not deported. That’s criminal, it really says a lot about the leadership in this country."

Hey there Grams, did it occur to you before you said this that Bush was President in 2008 and the several years prior to that?  So you just said that the Pub leadership is fucked up on illegal immigration, while trying to blame it on that nigger Obama.

"I think that Mike Pence is a good choice to be Trump’s vice president. Pence has been a congressman for six years and has been on important committees, so he knows how it all works."

Plus, he's a white male, so we can trust him.  Srsly, he was "on important committees"?  That qualifies him to lead the country?

This is your Trump supporter, folks.  A retard, like Senda.

"Facebook’s embrace of bots is actually about making Facebook more human"

"The most prominent new way Facebook is applying this: interactive bots inside Facebook Messenger that will answer your questions and offer goods and services. In separate talks, Zuckerberg and Facebook’s VP of Messenger, David Marcus, raved about using Messenger to get CNN news updates from a bot, shopping deals from a bot, and weather reports from a bot. They painted the addition of interactive chat bots as a bold new frontier. "

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/facebook-artificial-intelligence-bots-is-about-making-facebook-more-human-conversational-181048775.html

If you click on this link and understand the significance of the picture, without further explanation, you are a Sophisticated Internet User.

Please take the test, then report your result (if you dare!)

http://i.imgur.com/4T5tWrC.jpg

At the 3 min, 5 min, 14 min, and 16 min marks.  Carli Lloyd already has a hat trick!

I laughed till I cried.  Apparently he practiced like mad for this moment.  How can you not love this guy?  Anyone can relate.


Rikk Wilde Has A Tough Time With His Lines While Presenting The MLB MVP Trophy

"Plenty of colleagues at Apple know I'm gay, and it doesn't seem to make a difference in the way they treat me," Cook writes. "Of course, I've had the good fortune to work at a company that loves creativity and innovation and knows it can only flourish when you embrace people's differences. Not everyone is so lucky."

http://www.cnet.com/news/tim-cook-so-let-me-be-clear-im-proud-to-be-gay/#ftag=YHF65cbda0

Yawn

Discuss.

June Shannon's 20-year-old daughter, Anna Cardwell, confirmed to RadarOnline.com Friday that she was the victim who was molested by Mama June's ex-boyfriend Mark McDaniel when she was just 8 years old.

Though Cardwell initially defended her mother after reports surfaced that Mama June was dating the convicted child molester again, Anna â€" known as Chickadee on Here Comes Honey Boo Boo â€" has received new info leading her to believe that her mom has been seeing McDaniel behind the family's back.

Those darn hillbillies!  Always forgivin' child rapers and such.  Whelp...like it a-says in the Bai-bull, "Iff'n someone strikes your cheek, then give him your other daughter ta fuck."

https://celebrity.yahoo.com/blogs/celeb-news/mama-june-i-am-not-dating-a-child-molester-125716849.html

http://m.theepochtimes.com/n3/1040514-obama-birth-certificate-kenyan-government-releases-obamas-real-birth-certificate-is-fake/

It's 100% horseshit, but a trifling detail like not being true has never stood in the way of Obama hateration before.  Expect the usual vuvuzela posts from the neocons here once they regain consciousness.

US flushes a half billion dollars down the shitter.

"The U.S. has destroyed 16 cargo planes it purchased for almost half a billion dollars for the Afghan Air Force and sold the scrap metal for $32,000.

"Sopko said he was concerned that the American defense officials involved in the scrapping of the aircraft “may not have considered other possible alternatives in order to salvage taxpayer dollars.""

http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/us-turns-486-million-afghan-air-fleet-32000/story?id=26083173

A)  ...he's sick and tired of trying to figure out how this god-damn remote works

B)  ...he just caught you wooing his favorite hog

C)  ...someone bugfuck insane with a toddler-like lust for attention

D)  ...he just heard that Rebecca's new boyfriend is a thirty three year old virgin working as a tour guide for Disney's Animal Kingdom.

E)  ...your grandfather did after being suddenly woken up from a mid-afternoon nap in his recliner.

https://news.yahoo.com/palin-family-allegedly-involved-brawl-190208427.html

"Don't you know who ah AM?" Sarah screeched, while son "Track was seen on the street, shirtless, flipping people off, with Sarah right behind him, and Todd somewhere in the foreground, tending to his bloody nose,”

http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2014/sep/11/duck-dynastys-phil-robertson-says-aids-syphilis-go/?utm_source=RSS_Feed&utm_medium=RSS

"Duck Dynasty’s outspoken patriarch, Phil Robertson, said during a recent Christian radio show with Family Research Council head Tony Perkins that AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases are God’s way of imposing consequences for sin on gays."

Remember that Brave New World of self-driving cars, ones that will put you in the passenger seat to relax while Google drives and simultaneously inserts an anal probe to steal extract the remaining personal information about you it hasn't already stolen doesn't already have?

Like most things offered by Google, it's mostly horseshit wrapped in gold foil.  The Google Self-Driving Car would "fail a driver's license test before it ever got out of the parking lot" according to this linked article:

http://gizmodo.com/6-simple-things-googles-self-driving-car-still-cant-han-1628040470

Quick summary of the tasks that are beyond the ken of Google's technological wonder:

1) Can only be used in sunny, temperate weather

2) Can't recognize and avoid potholes (or sinkholes)

3) Can't navigate without an incredibly detailed survey of the roads to be traveled ahead of time, and "a laughably tiny number of roads in the U.S. have been Googlified for autonomous car use"

4) Can't recognize road construction (vroom vroom thud thud shriek shriek lawsuit); an unplanned four way stop (like if the traffic signals are down) will likely turn it into a brick

5) Has almost no capability to detect pedestrians (see: vroom vroom thud thud shriek shriek lawsuit), not to mention cops trying to divert traffic around an accident

6) Might permit more capacity on freeways and roadways due to more efficient packing, but where do you park, say, twice as many cars?

7) For all the hoopla about how much safer they will make the roads, even in a perfect scenario they are SIXTY times more likely to be involved in a fatal accident than a passenger on a bus

On the plus side, they could probably be used effectively on golf courses, eliminating those faggoty Segways.

No, really.  Stop laughing.  It's a disease.

"Rush Limbaugh Says Robin Williams Killed Himself Because Leftists Are 'Never Happy'"

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/08/12/rush-limbaugh-robin-williams_n_5673626.html?cps=gravity

A pr0n chick named Christy Mack had a boyfriend named Jon Koppenhaver, aka "War Machine."  They broke up in May of this year.

Christy has done over 100 pr0n flicks in the past two years, and regularly allows some of the biggest stuntcocks around to fuck her in the ass.

Three months after their breakup, Mr. Machine shows up at her house, unannounced, and finds her with a "male friend."  So he beats the shit out of both of them, cutting up Christy with a knife, breaking several bones, and putting her in the hospital.

So if I'm reading this straight, it was okay for her to bone other dudes while they were together, but not after they break up?  Do all wrestlers have the IQ of a cat anus, or just this guy?

Me and MagnificentBastard and another guy you all don't know have a "Who" tribute band (we're looking for a new vocalist, in case you know someone).  One thing about being a tribute band for The Who is that you go through an awful lot of guitars.  Since I don't wanna smash up my favorite axe, I'm always on the lookout for some shitty old guitar that I can "substitute" (get it? snicker-snicker).

So I found this one over the weekend:

http://sfbay.craigslist.org/sfc/msg/4611427538.html

We played a gig tonight (MB handled the vocals, thank god that is only temporary), and I smashed the everloving fuck out of this POS Fender knockoff that I got from Craigslist.  The dude let it go for $50 and it was worth every penny.  We would have invited him to the show but as it says in the ad, the guy works nights.

Last night I was randomly viewing some nudie photos of Asian girls with big boobs, and I felt that familiar stirring.  I was in the mood for what is euphemistically known as "racking the pump action yogurt rifle," "shaking hands with the one-armed sailor," or "educating Quick Karl" (and for you libertarians, "shrugging Atlas").

I got things prepared, including some paper towels laid out in a little stack on the desk in front of me for easy access.  I got a particularly good rhythm going with the porn clip I was watching, and felt the satisfying sensation of a giant load moving into the firing chamber (guys will understand what I mean here).  This was gonna be a good one.  I made a quality check to see if I had enough towels on hand.

With exquisite timing, I brought myself closer and closer to the edge until the moment of truth arrived.  As I crossed the threshold of inevitability, I could sense that this was indeed going to be a typhoon, and I reached for the towels.

Just then, with a golf ball-sized load traveling down my plumbing, I noticed that a medium-sized wolf spider had scampered onto the paper towels.  And it just sat there.  Watching.

Under other circumstances, I could have dealt with this situation cleanly.  But circumstances, and the clock, were not on my side.

How about you guys?  Have you ever faced a "tough choice" situation under time pressure?  How did you resolve it?

I lost my job this week.  Not sure "job" is the right word.  I do, or rather did, volunteer work for the City I reside within, performing a particular social service as a subunit of a larger department (for privacy reasons, I'm going to leave out some details if you don't mind.  Or even if you do).  The City provides the volunteers with a vehicle.  It is an old hand-me-down from the police department, repainted, but which still has a siren and the light rack on the roof.

Shortly after the first of the year, I was returning to my vehicle after a call when I was approached by a Muslim dude.  Dressed in Muslim garb, he was chattering excitedly in a language I couldn't understand, and beckoning me to follow him, so I did.  Nearby was a Muslim chick, holding her belly and moaning.  Despite the cloaking provided by her headscarf and flowing dress, she was obviously pregnant.  The dude began chattering again, his arms spread wide.  He seemed too old to be her husband, but who am I to judge.  I knew enough not to touch her, not even to help her to the vehicle.  Instead, I dashed back and moved it closer, then held the door while she waddled over and the dude helped pour her into the backseat.   

I'd never used the lights and siren before; there was no need.  I flipped switches and turned knobs and eventually got both of them going.  Then I gunned the engine, and the car raced forward, shrieking like a banshee.  As I threaded my way through and past traffic, I held up my cell phone and asked the dude to call 911.  He began chattering again, and sounded upset.  I heard what sounded like "nye-wah-wah" a couple of times.  Fall back to plan B: I made the call myself while steering with one hand.  I told the operator the name of the hospital, that the chick was about to drop, and made sure she understood to notify the hospital that the patient was a Muslim woman.

About a block from the hospital, I killed the lights and siren.  I didn't want to call attention to myself any more than was necessary.  The City has a strict policy prohibiting volunteers from transporting civilians in City vehicles.  It's a liability issue.  If there was an accident, the City could be sued by all parties.  If the baby died, or had medical complications, the parents could sue.  If the hospital was not in the network for the parent's insurance carrier, the insurance company could file a claim.  If the parents had no insurance, the hospital could file a claim.  I could be sued personally.  That's what 911 is for, we were told.  Call 911 and let the professionals deal with it.  I should have called 911, I muttered to myself. 

By this point, the chick was doing a good job of replacing the siren for volume.  The dude was officially beside himself, and while I didn't understand a word, the sense I got was that this was going to be a photo finish.  I steered the car through the parking lot and screeched to a halt in front of the entrance.  As we went through the door, I saw to my immense relief that two women were approaching: one, a nurse pushing a wheelchair; the other, a doctor or perhaps a P.A.  Then, as the three of them were busy helping the chick into the wheelchair, I turned on my heel and fled.

I thought for a time that I was going to get away with it, but it was not to be.  A group of Muslim men went to the mayor's office and expressed their wish that I be given some kind of formal recognition.  They didn't know my name, but helpfully provided a description of me and the car.  It didn't take long to figure out who I was, and the 911 call log, which contained my cell number, made it official.  The head of the City department under which I worked was nice enough to call me personally with the news.  He concluded by saying it wasn't his decision and he was sorry.  Yeah, me too.

I went back to the office to pick up my stuff.  There wasn't much, and someone had already packed it into a box.  I turned in my uniform, keys, ID badge, and so forth, took my stuff, and split.

When I got home, I opened the box.  Sitting on the top was a typed letter on the letterhead of the local Muslim mosque and community center.  The words were a little stiff and formal, but seemed sincere.  It filled in some of the story for me: the old dude was the chick's father; the baby was seven weeks premature and they were unprepared; he had called 911 but they didn’t understand him; the baby was healthy; the mother was doing fine.  It closed with an invocation of a short blessing on my behalf, and signed by several people, all men, who seemed to be the chick's husband and male relatives, and some guys with titles who were probably community leaders.

I read the letter twice and then idly flipped it over.  On the back, someone had reprinted the blessing that closed the letter in neat block letters.  And below that, filling the page, were dozens and dozens of signatures from my fellow volunteers and employees in the department.

I regret nothing. 

Friends, and Fellow Americans;

These are troubled times, and I would not speak to you now if this were not a matter of grave national import, and by inference, grave import to ALL mankind, since the USA is the only country that matters (hey, just take a look around, you San Francisco Bay area residents, it's blindly obvious that the Indians, Chinese, etc. don't want to live in those places either).

There's few things that nearly all Americans can agree on. And so when we DO agree overwhelmingly about something, it's worth our time to think very carefully about the implications.

What Americans can agree on, overwhelmingly, is that stupid people are fucking up the process of electing the best candidate for President. Whether you support a Republican or a Democrat in an election, the phrase "How can anyone be so stupid as to vote for [insert name of other candidate] for President?" is virtually certain to have crossed your mind, your lips, or your keyboard.

Evidence of the stupidity of the voting public abounds. A representative news article in Yahoo, from 2008, reads in relevant part:

"The survey, conducted between April 30 and June 1 by the Pew Research Center for the People & the Press, measured the political knowledge of 3,612 U.S. adults. Participants were asked to name the controlling party of the U.S. House of Representatives, the U.S. secretary of state and Great Britain's prime minister.

Overall, just 18 percent of participants answered all three questions correctly.

More than 50 percent of Americans knew that the Democrats have a majority in the House, while 42 percent could identify the secretary of state (Condoleezza Rice). Less than 30 percent could name the prime minister of Great Britain (Gordon Brown)."

http://news.yahoo.com/s/livescience/20081015/sc_livescience/americansflunksimple3questionpoliticalsurvey

That's right, my friends, a typical voter is no more likely to ID the majority party in Congress than you would get by flipping a coin. And 3 out of 5 of them had no idea who is that trim, attractive black woman who was who always seemed to be hanging around Dubya Bush and other world leaders.

How 'bout those undecided voters, eh? I mean, you have to admire someone who is objective enough to not make a choice after about two years of campaigning, in which the candidates and their positions have had the widest possible exposure.

What's that you say? You think someone who is still undecided, and who bases his choice on the information that comes out during the last few weeks of the campaign, when both sides utterly abandon any pretense at honor or ethics and simply hurl shit at each other, is a stupid fucking asshole? I have but one response to that: WORD!!

The typical American voter is no better qualified to participate in selecting a President than is a house plant.

The stupid people -- and with the use of that term I mean both retards and the willfully ignorant -- have no business participating in the selection of a President. Unfortunately, they represent something approaching half of the electorate.  If we eliminated them from the process, all Americans would benefit.

This in and of itself is not a novel idea. The goddamn Founding Fathers realized that stupid people should be excluded from the process.  It always bangs up against the same problem, though: any screening method (a knowledge test that qualifies one to vote, say) is subject to abuse. It can be used to wrongfully exclude based on factors other than being too stupid to participate.

I got stuck on this point too. While I was pondering it, my thoughts turned to those who vote for 3rd party candidates. Take the Libertarians, for example. They are comprised of nothing more than retards, and the willfully ignorant.

And then it struck me...these people don't matter. Why? Because by their choice of candidates, they have removed themselves from the selection process. Their candidate will never win. And the beauty part is, we got them out of the game without preventing them from voting!

And thus we come to the core of my brilliant idea: stupid people (as defined by their inability to pass a simple test like in the Yahoo article) will be barred from voting for either the Democratic or the Republican candidate. They can still vote for anyone else, just not either of those two candidates (this can be administrated by distributing one of two ballots at the voting station; the stupid people's ballot will not have the D or R candidate on the list).

Just look at the benefits:

1) It won't cost a billion dollars to run a Presidential campaign anymore. Just honk your policies and positions into a web site for the smart people to read. It's all the commercials and related bullshit that must be used to capture the infinitesimal attention-span of stupid people that eats up all that cash. No need to kowtow to special interests anymore, or give handjobs to lobbyists to get donations.

2) Third party candidacies are still relevant. The stupid people will be voting for them, of course, and if they are joined by enough smart people, they can even win.

3) We get a decent, qualified candidate who doesn't have to flush his honor and dignity down the john like McCain did in 2008.  We don't end up with a chimp in the White House who is there because he wants to impress his Daddy (hi Dubya!).

4) It's what the Framers intended in the first place. 

There's some downsides, of course. One is that fucking Constitution. I'm sure some sleazy lawyer types will start wheeling out all sorts of loopholes like the Fifteenth, Nineteenth, and Twenty-sixth Amendments or some other fine print and claim that implies that voting has evolved into fundamental right.  But fuck them.  Earl has his guns and will give us military cover.

The other potential downside is that we could get a "looks good on paper" candidate like Jimmy Carter. Fortunately, the Internet is full of thoughtful, objective citizens to check that danger through their logical, well-reasoned commentary.

My work here is done. I'm just the idea guy, it's up to the rest of you to take it from here.  Get to work.

Memorial Day is just around the corner, and I started thinking of our troops and all, and a couple ideas popped into my head about how to deal with Middle East Terrorists.

Idea #1: Get the chicks involved

Train some building contractors and sneak them and supplies in during the middle of the night with helicopters. Then, when the insurgents wake up in the morning and walk out of their caves, they'll rub their eyes and behold a brand spanking new shopping center with a 7-11, YumYum donuts, McDonalds, Dominos Pizza, and in the parking lot a fleet of shiny new cabs. Every night we do this until we got their whole country tooled out.  And it doesn't have to be donuts, it could be YumYum falafals or whatever they eat over there.

Now here's the beauty part of this plan.  Once these dum shiets got something to lose, their chicks aren't gonna let them run off and stir up trouble.  Just picture this conversation:

ARAB DUDE: See you later honey!

ARAB CHICK: By Allah, where are you going?

ARAB DUDE: The sheik has declared that we must kill the infidels.

ARAB CHICK: Ohhhhhh no! If you think your gonna leave me to take care of the store by myself you got another think coming saheeb. Have you forgotten that Ramadan is this week? Its the biggest sale of the year!

ARAB DUDE: But...

ARAB CHICK: Do you have any idea what the crowds are gonna to be like? You call up the sheik and tell him you're sick and can't go.

ARAB DUDE: But...

ARAB CHICK: I remember how it was before we were married.  You used to rape me under the stars for hours.  Now ever weekend its the same thing. Goofin off with your friends, playing with your guns and gigglin about those big-eyed virgins your gonna meet in heaven.  Well let me tell you something...

ARAB DUDE: But...

(etc)

The only problem I see with this plan is that they might just get more angry with us for stirring up trouble with their chicks. So if that happens we can proceed directly to idea 2.

Idea #2: Bomb the shiet out of the Middle East

I have to admit that this idea is my favorite. I think something like in War of the Worlds where they just fuckin level everything (Except we shouldn't suck the innards out of them like they did in that movie because its inhumane).  We'll probably have to use the H-bomb or something. Can you just imagine? No more taking your shoes off at the airport, no more strip search like they did to me that last time at Six Flags, and best of all, some piece and quiet for a change.

So anyhoo there it is. Why don't y'all think about it and let me know if you got any other ideas for improvements (especially you, Earl, this one seems right up your alley). This really should be a team effort, one nation under god and all that stuff.

http://www.abcactionnews.com/dpp/news/region_pasco/witnesses-describe-shooting-inside-cobb-theatres-grove-16-movies-in-wesley-chapel

"Reeves, 71, a former captain with Tampa Police was sitting behind Oulson and his wife, Nicole.  Detectives say Oulson, 43, was using his cell phone and Reeves asked him to stop several times, but Cummings said the argument intensified."

My position is that someone who is texting during a movie does not always deserve to die.  In general, simply chopping off the hands of the offending party is enough.  Given the publicity, and thus the potential for this incident to sit in the back of the minds of future potential offenders; and the fact that he was asked several times to stop fuckin texting, I'm going to call this one even.

Yesterday morning I headed up to my favorite liquor store to stock up for the night ahead.  My usual route takes me through a busy intersection near the freeway, where there are three lanes going in each direction.  On this morning, I was one of the poor unfortunates who just missed the light, so I was at the front of the line just behind the crosswalk.  I was positioned in the far right lane, grumbling a bit as I waited for the next cycle to pass me through the intersection and on my way.

I was feeling somewhat impatient, since I just barely missed getting through the light.  With nothing else to do but wait, I begin mentally calculating how far ahead I would have been if there were any justice in this world.  I fiddled with the radio.  I glanced at the traffic signal going the other way, so when it finally changed states I could leap forward through the intersection and on my journey without so much as a nanosecond of additional delay.  I was ready to roll, and twitching with anticipation. 

At just that moment, my gaze drifted down to the sidewalk below the light, where there were these two old Korean birds heading in a direction that would take them through the crosswalk in front of me. They're not so old that they need mobility assistance, but old enough that they waddle along with that "old people's gait."  You know the one, where their legs are bowed out like someone who has spent too long in the saddle, and they kind of waddle to and fro.

To my surprise and dismay, one of the pair croaked something in Korean that could be "Go! Let's hurry!" and they stepped off the curb just as the light going in my direction turned green.  As they hobbled along in the crosswalk directly in front of me, my irritation at being further delayed was quickly pushed aside by the view in my side mirror.  A sedan was rapidly approaching from behind me in the lane to my left. He can't see these two old birds because his view is blocked by my van, and certainly would not expect anyone to be in the crosswalk, since the light has now been green for several seconds.  My alarm spikes as I calculate that car and birds will meet each other in the crosswalk.

In an instant, the sedan is upon them. There is a sharp, hollow-sounding thud as it slams into their bodies, and I can hear what sounds like brittle old bones snapping. They arc through the air, some limbs disjointed at odd angles, others flapping freely and most unnaturally, before making a wet slapping sound as their bodies drop to the pavement.  But just before all that, in the instant before the car strikes them, there is enough time for them to know what is coming, that moment of inevitability, and a look of sheer terror crosses their faces and a brief strangled cry escapes from their lips, and I can tell exactly what is on their minds at that final moment: "No! This was a mistake! HELP ME!!" 

But none of that really happened.  Because once I see the car coming and can plot the inevitable, I slammed my palm against the horn, a horn loud enough to shatter glass and buckle the sheet metal of any car in front of me that is foolish enough to incur my wrath.  The blast from the horn staggers them, no doubt from confusion, because after all, who would be honking at them here in America, where the pedestrian is king?  They flinch to their right, but most importantly they stop moving forward for an instant, and in that instant the sedan screams past them and I can actually see their clothes ripple violently from the wind of the vehicle rushing past merely inches away. 

And then, after righting themselves from this double-barreled assault on their little journey, the one who croaked something back at the curb, the one who seems responsible for this whole misguided adventure, this old gaffer squares her shoulders, hooks her arm through that of the other old fossil, lowers her head, and takes off again in pursuit of her goal on the other side of the intersection. 

By this time I have the window down, and I stuck my head out and screamed at the top of my lungs, "GET BACK ON THE CURB, YOU STUPID FUCKING CUNTS!!"  In all of my life I have never expressed myself like this to any female that I wasn't sleeping with, and considering the unusual volume, crudeness of expression, and obvious lack of civility, I expected it to make an impression, but no; ancient chick #1 strained forward as if she hadn't heard me.  Ancient chick #2 hesitated, and seemed to be pondering whether it just might be better to retreat rather than argue with cars screaming past in both directions and some red-faced American maniac who looks like he might run them over for the fun of it. So she planted both feet and tugged on the arm of old biddy #1 with all her might, who resisted at first but finally relented, and then speeds back to the curb with her pal.  I rolled through the intersection to the sound of a chorus of car horns behind me honking the complaints of their owners.

What is the point of this story, and how does it relate to Earl?  Just this: Earl has this goal in mind, an idealized version of America where every person who thinks like he does is given an AR-15, a membership in the NRA, and a 15-year-old girl to marry, while those who disagree with him and his politics are gassed.  Since he can't legally compel this outcome, he's got a chubby for another Civil War.

I have to save Earl from himself.  If he were to get what he wants, a day of reckoning would someday arrive.  With all of those to the left of him, politically, dead and buried, Earl becomes the new Left Wing.  One day the security forces of the New Amerika would roll up in their monster trucks and cart him off to the camps.  And when they do, I already know what will be on his mind at that final moment: "No! This was a mistake! HELP ME!!"

Well, I can't very well help him after I've been turned into mulch, now can I?  So I'm doing it now.

The End.