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Showing posts with label Schadenfreude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Schadenfreude. Show all posts

Saturday, July 19, 2025

What’s It all About

What’s this Coldplay couple thing all about and why are we all experiencing ginourmous sparkly Schadenfreude from it?

It starts with a pair of none-too-bright, lovey dovey paramours canoodling at a big pop concert. It was the kind of show with a Jumbotron or “kiss cam.” You know, who can resist playing it big, bold, and dramatic for your one unexpected moment of fame? A lot of folks take the moment to brightly smile, wave, and cinematically smooch. Me? In the radically unlikely event of a camera focusing on me, I’d probably make a twisted, goofy face (i.e. resting Donna face) and flip the ol’ double birds. I’m wicked civilized like that.

What did the married multimillionaire CEO of a tech company and his affair partner, the head of HR no less, do? They attempted to duck down out of the camera’s view, making it totally, thoroughly obvious that they were up to something messy. 
In MEGA spades, they achieved precisely the opposite of their intent.

The original vid went viral with more than 45 million views on TikTok and millions more in reposts across other platforms.
In the video, following Byron and Cabot's response to the camera, Coldplay front man Chris Martin can be heard saying, "Either they're having an affair, or they're just very shy.” (source)
Heh. Chris was spot on. They were very shy because they were having an affair. Too bad they weren’t smart, savvy, calm, cool or in any way discrete.

Dunno about Kristin but Andy’s got an estimated net worth of between $20 and $70 million. Once the OMG-What-An-Idiot storm has passed, he’ll slide into another high tech C suite gig easily. Tech and big money bros will likely see Andy's antics as a plus. His inevitable divorce settlement will be painful but completely survivable – a mere blip. 


Kristin hopefully has good savings and investments. I sincerely doubt she’ll be able to find work in HR again. Especially not after outing herself as the poster girl for everything you should NOT to do when you’re the boss of HR.
 
While scrolling around on Threads I saw folks from as far away as Latvia and Thailand chiming in and LOLing about this. Imagine fucking up so bad that you've made yourself into a worldwide joke! (I'm proud to say that, while I've fucked up a LOT in this life, I've never hit that height) Hell, I bet even the penguins on the Heard and McDonald Islands are knee-slapping about this.

Why is this hitting so big though? For the same reason that most of us are on Team Orca, Team Luigi, Team Ukraine, and every other David who takes down or just watches and benefits from a Goliaths' fall.

Shame, tax, laugh at, and eat the overprivileged, greedheaded, robber baron fucks!

Wednesday, September 25, 2024

Doomscrolling Relief


I’m doomscrolling. Not good, not good. Yes, it's because I’m between books AGAIN. I’ve half a dozen potentially perfect books (for my current story consumption needs) on hold at the library. My luck? They’ll all become available at the same time.

What to read until the book tsunami? Something to do with witches or dragons might be nice—after all, we’re entering the spooky season.

Problem though—it seems that every book (fiction) about witches is, at heart, a romance novel. There’s now a whole section, on my Libby library app, devoted to witch fiction. I thought I’d read some of the blurbs, the summaries—MAYBE they weren’t all bodice ripping, breath stealing, meet cutes. I stopped scanning the section after four or five disappointments.

Dragon fiction? Seems like it’s mostly juvenile or young adult Tolkienesque epic fantasies. Not my bag. Where are the dragon tales written for adults? How about a story with Richard Osman’s dry wit and 70 year old main human characters? What about something from Scalzi? Oh wait… I could reread The Kaiju Preservation Society.
When COVID-19 sweeps through New York City, Jamie Gray is stuck as a dead-end driver for food delivery apps. That is, until Jamie makes a delivery to an old acquaintance, Tom, who works at what he calls "an animal rights organization." Tom's team needs a last-minute grunt to handle things on their next field visit. Jamie, eager to do anything, immediately signs on.

What Tom doesn't tell Jamie is that the animals his team cares for are not here on Earth. Not our Earth, at least. In an alternate dimension, massive dinosaur-like creatures named Kaiju roam a warm and human-free world. They're the universe's largest and most dangerous panda and they're in trouble.
(source)
YES, perfect! I’ll have to buy the book (which I can do) versus borrow from the library though. There’s a 23 week wait for it at the Boston Public Library and my local library doesn’t list it at all.

Amongst my doomscrolling, I found some good news.

Tweedledee and Tweedledum are now facing criminal charges, filed by a Haitian nonprofit, for spreading whoppers and sparking their violent goons in Springfield, Ohio. T&T’s insane lies about immigrants “eating pets” unsurprisingly led to bomb threats—schools were shut down, an annual community festival was cancelled and more. Cheato and Couchfuck KNEW the story was a lie—they histrionically spread this racist pool of venom anyway. The felonious fuck KNEW what his cult would do because he’s pulled this steaming, rabid crocodile vomit before.
The affidavit, filed in Clark County Municipal Court by immigration-focused nonprofit the Haitian Bridge Alliance, Guerline Jozef, and her attorney Subodh Chandra, says Trump and Vance were told “[a]t every turn,” whether by the Springfield city manager, Ohio Gov. Mike DeWine (R), “fact-checkers, press, officials,” and locals that the pet-eating claims were “baseless,” and yet they “orchestrated a campaign of lies” and “spread a false narrative that Haitians in Springfield are a danger.”
~~~
“The Haitian Bridge Alliance and Ms. Jozef respectfully request that this Court make independent findings of probable cause based on the facts presented—and issue warrant for Trump’s and Vance’s arrest,” the filing said.
  (source
I’m thrilled to bits that something is being done, even if it doesn’t end with these soulless bastards behind bars. At least it holds the venomous frauds vile actions up to the light of day. MAYBE more of the Ohio’s citizens will now think clearly and seriously before casting their votes for officials who are supposed to be representing and protecting them versus putting them in the path of racists with murder hard ons.

 Also, maybe a few of the folks who were planning to vote for the terror igniting duo will reconsider.

Sunday, August 25, 2024

He’s Boring

An insufferable nudnik, a tedious cow (not to diss our bovine friends), a gigantic pool of swampy pus.

You all know who I’m talking about.

His act is beyond stale. His rambling stream-of-hate, wank-festing diatribes are old and tiresome. His Hitleresque tough guy manqué, his I’m-a-BIG-boy-in-the-dictator-club routine isn’t even vaguely interesting anymore—not even from a psych ward, clinical intake point of view. His insult comic schtick is hackneyed, lowbrow, more boring and less coherent than a played out, morphine fueled, late days Lenny Bruce rant/performance. I take that back, even in his worst, most drugged up days Bruce was smarter, better, sharper.

The old, decaying-before-our-eyes, grotesque, orange fraud has become a parody of himself. It’d be funny if he didn’t hold sway over nearly half the country. Okay, his rapidly diminishing, obvious mental and physical decline IS funny.
Flaming June, Sir Frederic Leighton
Trump’s cognitive decline has been notable for years, as he frequently rambles incoherently in a word-association whirlwind of nonsense about sharks, slurring his words, freezing—even forgetting his own son’s name. (source)
It’s obvious to all but his most delusional fans that Donnie Demento is sundowning. He’s still running his tired old game of scaring people with outright lies and incomplete, twisted depictions of reality.
Trump’s senior campaign advisers counter that the mood of the country right now is sour over the economy, the state of the U.S.-Mexico border and turmoil in the Middle East and beyond. They see their candidate as reflecting that reality rather than what they believe is a temporary exuberance igniting the Democratic base after months of discouragement over their ticket.
Trump has tried to harness that with his repeated predictions of stock market crashes and war.
~~~
Bad things are going to happen.
(source)
There’s no hope, no joy, no future in Trumpville. Also, he’s got the dystopian Project 2025. Meanwhile, Harris and Walz are lifting us up. They’ve got actual plans and strategies to improve regular people’s lives. Yeah, people like you and me versus divorced from reality types like the billionaire buzzards Musk, Zuckerberg and Bezos.

The stupidest, most unqualified and hypocritical house rep, tried to paint von ShitzenPantz as “a force of joy and unity.” Boebert is SO bad at this—she's hilarious! Also, we apparently can’t “match what Trump did in Arizona yesterday.” What might Braindead Barbie be referring too? Was it the utterly crass and supremely awkward way he cut off the police union guy who was backing up his lies? Was it the lies the melting orange ass told? Was it the fact that he used a Foo Fighters song without permission? By the by, that’s biting him in the ass already.
When commenting on the Trump campaign's use of "My Hero," a spokesperson for the band told CBS News on Saturday: "Foo Fighters were not asked permission and if they were, they would have not granted it.”

The spokesperson added that any royalties received as a result of the Trump campaign's use of the song will be donated to the campaign of Vice President Kamala Harris and Gov. Tim Walz. (source)
The bullying rabid weasel shits of Trump’s party of doom are incapable of anything but fear mongering, hate inflaming, racism and misogyny igniting rhetoric and actions.

Me? I’m with The Rude Pundit:
Fuck the buzzkills. I'm thrilled that Harris is running on joy because that's a feeling that sustains you and makes you want to be with others and get shit done.
The presidency is supposed to age the president, not the public.

~ Jon Stewart

Tuesday, July 9, 2024

Schadenfreude for Breakfast

I think I may be experiencing seasonal affective disorder.
Seasonal affective disorder (SAD) is a type of depression. It happens during certain seasons of the year, most often fall or winter. It is thought that shorter days and less daylight may set off a chemical change in the brain leading to symptoms of depression. (source)
But, it's summer?!?

Yes. Exactly. You can have your SAD in November when the planet’s not trying to kill us with abominable heat. Me? I’m gonna SAD now and have ice cream for breakfast. I’m dreaming of 52º cloudy days with hot toddy and book at hand, while wondering if we might get some rain later.

Right this minute, here in Heatsville though, I'm enjoying delicious schadenfreude with my coconut gelato.

Years ago, when I first joined the ShoutyFace app, I received a zillion “friend” requests from people who had gone to the same high school as me. I didn’t know or remember most of them. Some faces and names were vaguely familiar. One stood out like a giant neon stinking mound of rhino shit. She was the lead tormentor of this pack of socially banjaxed asshole girls who bullied the fuck outta me, daily, for two+ years straight.

I didn’t accept Trudy’s (her nom de shithead) request but, like the overbearing imbecile she was as a teen, she kept sending and resending the request. I could have blocked her but instead thought this could be fun. After all, by the time I hit my mid-40s I was more than up to task of slaying stray bullies.

Turns out Trudy got knocked up during our senior year, married her fuck buddy and kept the kid. NO higher ed, no easing into adulthood, no college hijinks for this dim, shortsighted mean girl. Meanwhile, her brother had gotten into an Ivy. There was family money (cheezy car dealership bucks) and he now had a full free ride.

Had Trudy and her sperm donor been smart and used a little rain-hat, maybe she could’ve had a posh, swank future (with or without children) too. Was it Trudy’s decision to keep the kid and marry at 17 or did her parents give her no choice? Had she socially embarrassed them and this was unforgivable? Did they feel the need to punish her (and the poor fetus)? You know, “marry the pimply puke you fucked and have the baby or you’ll never see a dime of our money again.
Was this the parents way of teaching a grossly irresponsible child a lesson? Who knows? 

Maybe she was desperate for love and figured she’d get that from the boy and baby?

Fool.

Best as I can tell from snooping her profile, she and high school boy split up. Trudy went on to get up the spout by a few others who also chose not to stick around. Her monied up parents continued to assist her, buying her houses every time she decided to move cross country and back. They hooked her up with low level receptionist gigs at different car lots as well.

Of note, not only was Trudy a none-too-bright twat with the social skills of a crocodile suffering from antisocial personality disorder she was not a pretty girl. Add that to her congealed rat intestines dumpster fire of a personality and what do you get? Someone who’s gonna crash and burn once their dewy youth has evaporated.

For half a minute it looked like she was trying to take up photography as a hobby. Great, personal growth! Not so fast. Not only did she suck beyond what I would have thought possible, she apparently hadn’t any chums to clue her in. She’d post 50 nearly identical landscape shots, all badly or uninterestingly lit, no contrast, out of focus, with no variation. It was like a three year old proudly showing off a massive poop. With the toddler dump though, congrats and celebration would be appropriate.

It came as no surprise that, sometime in her 50s, she fell apart and became a born again right wing “christian” wackaloon. This seems to be the favored refuge of failed bullies and other self-obsessed fiascos of humanity. I expect it’s a perfect fit for Trudy’s I-peaked-in-high-school-and-need-to-reclaim-my-glory-days personality crisis. I imagine she dreams of being one of Von ShitzenPantz Trumpettes at Merde-a-lago too.

At some point my former high school tormentor de-friended me. Why? I honestly don't care.

It feels funny as well as deeply satisfying to have been able to witness the Find Out phase of Trudy’s FAFO life. Her karmic payback is every bit as sweet and refreshing as my breakfast ice cream. Her long, slow, no-growth, rolling implosion of a loserdom life is sad…for her. For me? It feels a little like when Ripley and Jones survive and triumph finally over the Xenomorph.

No, I don’t feel at all bad about this wonderful schadenfreude-y breakfast.

Monday, March 25, 2024

Solid Gold Schadenfreude

For all those who celebrate, Happy Seize the Fuck Outta Everything Cheato Owns Day! Mind you, he may pull off a last minute save—that’d be all Hollywood dramatic and right up his gold plated plague-rat style.

I’m hoping there’s no last minute miracle…of course I am. One of the best parts of Seize His Shitty Assets day is finding out precisely how little he actually owns. Trump Tower, fer instance—he owns the retail and commercial bits and a triplex apartment.
It turns out that of the many Trump-branded or -associated properties, he appears to own just a few units or portions of a building, such as at Trump Tower. In most other cases, Trump’s name on a building represents a licensing agreement, a condition of sale, or the Trump Organization’s role as property manager. Trump’s only equity in many of “his” buildings appears limited to a handful of unsold apartments or common spaces — if any at all. (source)
What this means is that an awful lot of “his” properties will need to be taken in order to satisfy the judgment. How many of these apartments and commercial spaces are mortgaged to the moon and back? How much does he, free and clear, actually own? Not too bloody much is my guess. He’s been playing three-card monte and shell games with banks, the public, the IRS and investors his entire life and is about to be exposed.

We’re about to find out that the shit-stained miscreant clown who buys face-painting bronzer in bulk (applying it with all the skill of a toddler on meth), wears a girdle, has mega-lifts in his shoes and spent more than $70,000 on hairstyling during his run on that little reality-TV show, is beyond broke. The lunatic fraudster is, at absolute best, a thousandaire NOT a billionaire.

By the by, the fraud felon deducted his hair-management expenses from his taxable income. That’s some serious financial gymnastics.
If he fails to either secure a bond or delay the process in court, the authorities in New York can freeze his bank accounts or target his properties. (source)
I like the sound of Donnie Dipshit’s bank accounts being put on ice. I also like the idea of him losing his $100 million airplane. His Gotham crib too. Yeah, the one he claimed was 30,000 square feet which, in reality, is just 11,000 square feet.
Financial statements from 2015 and 2016 still made the claim that the triplex was the much larger size, and valued it at $327 million. But in testimony given to the attorney general's office, Trump Organization CFO Allen Weisselberg said that the apartment's value was overstated by "give or take" $200 million. (source)
So, his Fifth Avenue condo is worth somewhere slightly north of $100 mil NOT $327mil. What about his vermin infested Florida crash pad?
Luxury home sales in Palm Beach increased by 20 percent year-over-year during the fourth quarter of 2023, according to a Douglass Elliman and Miller Samuel report. It said the average price per square foot in the luxury market, which represents the top 10 percent of all sales, rose to $3,770. At 62,500 square feet, that puts Mar-a-Lago at just shy of $250 million. Trump, however, claimed at trial that his Florida home is worth more than $1 billion. (source)
Considering that the banks undoubtedly own more of “his” property than he does, I think Mister Art of the Steal is, pretty much, fucked and not in the way he prefers either—you know, forcibly and with barely legal girls who look like his daughter.

Tuesday, March 19, 2024

Bloodbaths and Gaslighting

Countess Elizabeth Bathory, AKA Erzsébet Báthory (1560-1614), was a rich, powerful Hungarian who was def not thrilled about aging…just like so many current era, swimming-in-dough-and-zero-dignity types. Plastic surgery had yet to be invented in the late-14th/early-15th century though. Fer Bast’s sake, what’s a late Middle Ages, wealthy, fading beauty to do?!

Why…bathe in the blood of the young female servants and minor noblewomen she’d tortured and murdered. Of course!

Some of Bathory's victims were covered with honey and left outside for insects to devour. During colder parts of the year young women might be stripped naked and forced into deadly ice baths. Bathory sometimes tortured girls by driving needles into their fingers, cutting their noses or lips or whipping them with stinging nettles. She would bite shoulders and breasts, as well as burning the flesh, including the genitals, of some victims. (source)

She sounds like your average unhinged MAGAT, doesn’t she? Supposedly she tore up 650 young women. Probably took her a lot longer than your average school massacre assassin but then, those dudes weren’t trying to collect blood for their respective beauty regimens.

By the by, Lizzie had a nephew who was the prince of Transylvania. No word on whether his name was Vlad or not.

Bloodbath
     noun
1: a great slaughter
2: a notably fierce, violent, or destructive contest or struggle

As his coven of willfully ignorant, hate riddled, gun fetishizing rubes zealously scream praise at their gold painted god’s rallies, threatening to murder all of his/their imagined enemies, Demented Diaper Don gleefully anticipated the bloodbath.

Hoplophile
     noun
Someone with an irrational love of, or fetish for, weaponry (especially firearms). From the Greek "hoplon" meaning armaments, and "philia" meaning love or intense friendship. (source)

Being a hoplophile is a requirement for all members of the Cult of Trump. 

"Now, if I don't get elected, it's gonna be a bloodbath for the whole ... that's gonna be the least of it, it's gonna be a bloodbath for the country, that'll be the least of it.” (source)
~ Cheato the Loser at a campaign rally for an Ohio Senate candidate who was stupid enough to not foresee that the Insecure Orange Id would steal the entire show so thoroughly that no one remembers his name…and we don’t.

Dave Whamond

"Let’s stop it with the faux-apologetics over TFG’s comments, namely that “bloodbath” was figurative and meant for the auto industry or the hot-mic’d “I want my people” was for his cabinet, not the rest of us. Cute, but no.

He opened that same rally by praising J6 terrorists, he’s repeatedly encouraged all manner of political violence, and he’s openly reveled in a “tough guy” mob boss persona. Power is his goal and violence is the only method his tiny brain can come up with to attain it.

Add to that the fact that he peppers every bullshit story with bizarre references to reverent people calling him “Sir,” always with eyes full of tears.

We know exactly what he means. So do his followers, who are more than happy to “stand back and stand by” for J6, The Sequel.

He doesn’t get the benefit of nuance or even “context,” because he’s never claimed to have any use for either. This is who he is: an unhinged bully demanding to be a worshipped dictator.

Enough of the gaslighting."

~ Jeffrey A. Ward 

Also, tick tock on coming up with that $464m for his fraud case. He needs to either pay the full amount in cash or secure a bond if he wants to continue his doom-bound appeal. Broke Boy’s got six little days (counting today) to come up with bucks or bond and shit don’t look good.

Apparently, not even his daughter/wife’s husband (Mr. $2 Billion Bonesaw Bucks) is willing to front Mr. Art-of-the-Steal money.

This makes me happy and I believe cake and ice cream are called for.

Tuesday, April 25, 2023

Fishy Wishy

Well, fish stick heir and fascist/racist/misogynistic propagandist Tucker Swanson McNear Carlson has been shitcanned

That was a wonderfully nice Monday morning present.

Normally it pains me when people get the ax (yes, even when the action is appropriate) but I’ll make an exception in Tuck’s case. I’m sure Fish Head can get another trump/Russia suck-up gig at OANN or Breitbart. He’ll undoubtedly never see another 20mill payday again though.

Who am I kidding, the filthy rich moron, who’s been fired from all but one of the media gigs he’s held over the years, doesn’t need a job. He’s now free to spend his days tanning his junk, fan-boying Putin and perfecting that astoundingly dimwitted, slightly crosseyed hick look he seems to favor.

I've read that he's lawyered up. Apparently Doughboy is far too imbecilic to understand that, at this point, the more that comes out about his words and deeds, the worse he looks. He's always welcome in Russia though.

Just hours after Fox News unexpectedly announced the host's departure, Carlson was offered work by Russian state media networks that have fiercely supported the invasion of Ukraine and echo much of his conspiratorial rhetoric. (source)
He's already their tool, why not just move to Moscow?