The Week That Perished: Cowgoys and Indians

Plus a brief subscriber update

In this week’s Week:

Newsom gives Injuns a statewide boot,

Frozen Punjabis are kind of a hoot.

Leftist scores points against “reparations” loot,

“Spicy Latinas” are no longer cute,

Matt Gaetz and his boy-band are ordered to scoot.

The Week That Perished

As always, if you get a laugh please BUY ME A BEER!

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Note to subscribers:

(and if you don’t want to read the “note to subscribers,” then don’t. No need to UNTHUBTHSCRIBE in a huff)

I love my regular readers. When I stop being active for a few weeks, you guys notice and ask about it in the comments. And yes, as some of you have guessed, I’m back on the bottle, hoping to make it to Christmas in a state of blissful detachment.

I may not make it because I never know when my liver will say “stop.” But for now, my productivity is low because I’m spending a few wonderful weeks listening to Moon Safari cranked up on my headphones while remembering all the wonderful young ladies I slept with in my prime.

It’s a crippled old reclusive unemployable banned author’s version of a vacation. My Christmas vacation. Air, Groove Armada, and me recalling my best blowjobs (received, not given. If you want the latter visit Nick Fuentes).

I’m working on a few things for the new year, but slowly, at my own pace. That Darryl Cooper “Hitler was great” nutcase who became Tucker’s BEST GUEST EVER (he’s Joe Rogan’s hero too) cited me on a recent podcast, and then ran and hid when I asked him a pointed question.

That’ll make for a fun piece.

Also, last year a California Department of Health official asked me to sit on a story about Amazon’s grocery delivery service sending out rancid meat. I’ve decided to just run the story anyway, a decision I would not have made sober, because I’m openly defying a state official.

Rancid meat? Fuentes again.

There’s also a former Toronto government official now working at a prestigious Asian institution who had a large anonymous Twitter account where he spouted Nazi and Holocaust denial rhetoric. He came after me claiming I’m a Mossad agent, so I uncovered his identity and every detail of his personal life (because what better way to prove you’re not Mossad?). And once I saw that he was a “somebody,” i.e. a public figure, I said “WOTTA SCOOP!”

I’m having a great deal of fun pursuing him. There’s no end in sight for that piece, though, as the Asians at his institution are not used to dealing with an American journalist probing a white Nazi they’re employing. It’s not a problem that comes up for them every day.

When the Toronto guy dared me to uncover his true identity, and I did it in ten minutes, I told him, “don’t feel bad, son. I’m Ashkenazi and you’re Canadian. It was never a fair contest.”

Don’t get me wrong; I love Canadians. Great senses of humor and some of the most beautiful women on earth. But c’mon, in the smarts department, Canadian men are often bested by salmon.

The only woman I ever loved in my life, my beloved Sarah of blessed memory, was Canadian. And that reminds me: back to the headphones.

I’ll send you guys a Thanksgiving epistle this week, as I'm genuinely thankful for all of you.

And your BEERS.