We can skip the usual horseshit about having to install the thing twice (because I forgot that the wires have to feed through the mount) and go right to the end, when I was already boiling over with frustration, and one of the frigging globes doesn't fit!
...which is to say it will go on the chandelier just fine, but a standard light bulb will not fit inside it.
When it was made, the neck came out too narrow. Whatever asshat in China who checked it for quality did something to grind away some of the neck, so that a standard light bulb will almost fit, but it still won't. I've put a bulb in the freezer. Later I'll see if it fits.
Right now I have an email of complaint in to Menards' customer service department about it. We had to special order the fucking thing and it took three weeks to be delivered, so I can't just take it down and take it over and get a replacement globe for it.
I suppose if I knew how to grind glass, and had the right tool, I could just open it up a smidge more so that a standard light bulb will fit inside it.
* * *
So "whitey" AKA Titania McGrath can take her stupid white guilt horseshit, fold it until it is all corners, and shove it right up her ivy league ass, with a pound of rusty nails for a chaser.
...and she looks exactly as you'd expect her to. And while we're about it let's have a look at some of her "poetry":
...that's the last two stanzas of this extrusion, about half of it. It had "Some musings on my male parent...." as a title, or intro, or something.
Yes, she is throwing a tantrum because her father won't buy her a brand new iPhone. If any kid of mine wrote that sort of shit about me, I'd say, "Well, you can just sort out your own phone from now on. Also your schooling and housing and...."
What the fuck. And her vote counts the same as yours does. Comforting, isn't it?
* * *
Speaking of delusional hemorrhoids who are nothing but useless consumers of the wealth of western civilization, holy shit I could take those guys and I'm an overweight middle-aged man who never won a fistfight in his life.
I especially admire the pudding elemental on the lower right, the one in the pink cap wearing the kaffiyeh to show his solidarity with Palestine. He can't even figure out which hand is supposed to be the raised fist. It looks like he switched hands just in time for the camera timer but not soon enough to unclench his right hand.
As a group they can't even make the socialist salute right. That "raised left fist" thing, you're supposed to hold out your arm straight with the fist upright.
Mr. Bear Shirt has it all wrong, but considering the gut he's got on him I doubt he's lifted that arm that high in several years, unless it was to reach the box of Twinkies his mom put on the top shelf of the pantry.
The poofter to the left of him in the pic looks like he just realized that he dropped his badminton racket.
Mr. "Feminists of the world unite" on the left has the right idea even though he's long since allowed his "girl"friend to lock his nuts up in a pickle jar under the bathroom sink. I think he gets to visit them on alternate Saturdays.
Who did I miss? Oh, purple plaid on the right, with the crew cut, looking like a terminally confused Dominic Monaghan. His "refugees welcome" t-shirt is badly askew, but we should pity him because the operation of clothing is a skill he's still trying to master.
Lower left, he's really glad to be here, and he's looking forward to
* * *
Denmark has spent decades marginalizing men, and now they're surprised that their birth rate is falling because Danish men don't want to have anything to do with Danish harridans.
* * *
This kind of thing is why I don't want to have a job in the city, nor do I want to visit the city very often.
Just because the local news doesn't report it does not mean it's not happening. I have no desire to become a statistic in the middle of a savage uprising.
* * *
A commie creep lets the mask slip all the way. Trying to answer President Trump's "Make America Great Again" slogan, this worthless sack of crap says, "We're not going to make America great again. It was never that great."
Well, then, don't let the door hit you where the good Lord split you, babycakes. I'm sure there are other countries in the world you would find more to your liking, you ungrateful fucking shithead.
* * *
Last night we decided to go get some Italian food and do a little shopping. On our way to the Italian place we drove past a swampy area.
There were scores of cranes or egrets in it!
It's several acres, and each crane stood in its own area perhaps 25 feet across, and they were distributed pretty evenly across the entire swamp. I couldn't even begin to estimate how many--I've seen one here or there, sometimes maybe two--but this was dozens of them, maybe as many as sixty or seventy cranes!
What a sight!