FWIW the schmoe in the peach jacket beside the Emperor Has No Clothes is James Dolan, the coke-addled son of the eldest Dolan, who made a movie channel which would become HBO, and a dirty movie channel which would become Playboy Channel.
He's (to the best of my recollection, I worked for Cablevision on Long Island a million years ago) the second son of Papa Dolan. Joke was in the offices that he was less nasty and stupid when he was on "the blow" when he was in rehab. First son ran one or three of the local channels (Long Island and others) because Evil Daddy loved him less (sound familiar to Fred Trump? Hehe, yes it does.)
Except for exceptions, the whole family of Dolanites are utter, unrepentant rich garbage.
EVEN Fn here, at a Knicks Game!! It’s those dialectical ‘forces’ my Upanishadic satirical exposé reveal—from so many sources—pointing out the ‘clearly-expected,’ from that ancient science so “simple for the simple, and difficult for the difficult!” if I were a betting man, I would have bet a paycheck they would lose to (ironically, as if telling) the “spurs.” “Dialectical??” Or what? ☯️
Drop by and follow freely “The Spell of Action: a Táo De Physics 2.0?” by The Angry Buddhist. (yours truly)
"He may be president of the United States, but in his soul he’s a little boy from the outer boroughs whose parents are beyond ugly, who passed those ugly genes on to him, whose daddy didn’t love him, who craves the attention and approval of the fancy people who live on the big island where Madison Square Garden sits, and who will never give it to him, because he’s beneath them. Not because they’re actually special, but because he’s beneath everyone." Best description ever. And, damn, I love the videos of his motorcade passing all those fingers.
DJT was ALWAYS a joke, particularly in NYC. Spy, VF, and NY Mag roasted him mercilessly (probably why his complexion is "barbeque.") It wasn't until the odious Mark Burwhatshisname showed up with his infomercial crew that Dump was propogated to the, er, uninformed/Fox-primed. Sigh
I am deeply comforted knowing how hard those boos cut deep into hisownself. I fear for what retribution he might fathom though, I hope he just takes it out on a couple dozen cheezburders.
FWIW the schmoe in the peach jacket beside the Emperor Has No Clothes is James Dolan, the coke-addled son of the eldest Dolan, who made a movie channel which would become HBO, and a dirty movie channel which would become Playboy Channel.
He's (to the best of my recollection, I worked for Cablevision on Long Island a million years ago) the second son of Papa Dolan. Joke was in the offices that he was less nasty and stupid when he was on "the blow" when he was in rehab. First son ran one or three of the local channels (Long Island and others) because Evil Daddy loved him less (sound familiar to Fred Trump? Hehe, yes it does.)
Except for exceptions, the whole family of Dolanites are utter, unrepentant rich garbage.
[bows, smiles, and steps down from the soap box]
That would have been beautiful!!
He didn't even want to see the game; he just wanted to punish New York for not liking him.
My favorite comment from another page: "He gonna cry in the car."
I don't have a problem with trumpy falling asleep. It's the waking up again part that bothers me.
ETTD.
Nothing more needs to be said.
“I thought it was very good, it was certainly amazing, it was, I think, mostly cheers. It was loud and it was very enthusiastic.”
"Are you talking about how the crowd received you at the Knicks/Spurs game, Mr Precednent Harmburgder?"
"No, piggy, I am referring to my ginormous diaper deposit after I conked out and as usual lost control of my bowels."
EVEN Fn here, at a Knicks Game!! It’s those dialectical ‘forces’ my Upanishadic satirical exposé reveal—from so many sources—pointing out the ‘clearly-expected,’ from that ancient science so “simple for the simple, and difficult for the difficult!” if I were a betting man, I would have bet a paycheck they would lose to (ironically, as if telling) the “spurs.” “Dialectical??” Or what? ☯️
Drop by and follow freely “The Spell of Action: a Táo De Physics 2.0?” by The Angry Buddhist. (yours truly)
Thanks for not writing metamucillini "appeared" to be sleeping. I am so tired of that mealy mouthed crap.
"He may be president of the United States, but in his soul he’s a little boy from the outer boroughs whose parents are beyond ugly, who passed those ugly genes on to him, whose daddy didn’t love him, who craves the attention and approval of the fancy people who live on the big island where Madison Square Garden sits, and who will never give it to him, because he’s beneath them. Not because they’re actually special, but because he’s beneath everyone." Best description ever. And, damn, I love the videos of his motorcade passing all those fingers.
DJT was ALWAYS a joke, particularly in NYC. Spy, VF, and NY Mag roasted him mercilessly (probably why his complexion is "barbeque.") It wasn't until the odious Mark Burwhatshisname showed up with his infomercial crew that Dump was propogated to the, er, uninformed/Fox-primed. Sigh
It indeed was enthusiastic, just not in the direction you were looking for Donny boy.
I am deeply comforted knowing how hard those boos cut deep into hisownself. I fear for what retribution he might fathom though, I hope he just takes it out on a couple dozen cheezburders.
Hey! Spurs fans gained something, thanks slumpy.
Obama sits courtside just sayin
Obama sits courtside just sayin
Obama sits courtside