Here at ‘Bumpkin Watch’ our investigative journalist team have uncovered the real reason why weirdy-trimmed-beardy JD Vance uses his initials rather than either of his actual forenames. At first we just assumed it was some kind of a hillbilly thing like being called Gomer, Cletus or Booger, but it actually turns out it’s because his real name is even more shit than any of those.

Vance, whose parents were siblings, was actually christened Jebediah Doofus on August 3rd, 1984 by his mentally ill mother, Trixie-Bob, at the Middletown Confessional Calvinist Church, Ohio after she escaped from the local mental institute with the one day old nipper.

His father, Goober Charles Jnr (renowned crystal meth manufacturer and three time near miss KKK Grand Wizard) passed away eight months earlier in what has only been described in the local ‘Middletown Gazette’ as “a freak washing machine accident”. According to sources, Goober, “was at the local laundromat” and “got his frayed neckerchief caught in the machine’s drive belt during its spin cycle”. Apparently he had been “raking for loose change through a removed rear panel”.

Initially christened with the surname Bomen, his mother changed it to Reynolds when she married her sixth husband and uncle, Herschel Beauregard “Burt” Reynolds III.

Quite where he got the surname Vance from has remained a mystery for many years, however, having recently tracked down his old juvenile detention buddy Virgil Buford, we can confirm that he adopted it from the famous UK Radio One disc jockey and heavy metal enthusiast, Tommy Vance, whom JD had become enamoured with during his early years. Sources have disclosed that he used to tune in to his step father’s portable shortwave radio every Friday night during Uncle Herschel’s weekly weekend “fishing” trips, although Buford did remark that “the only fishing Ol’ Burt ever got up to was for some well worn pussy.”

“I can’t believe he’s got to where he is today,” Buford added, “to start from such humble beginnings and end up third in command of the country under Elon is one hellava achievement.”

https://txt.fyi/0bca2ba9a9f78be5

“Is that Kung Fu?”

“No, he’s only had 2 pints.”

I can see an experiment coming on. Give your snake two dishes and see which it prefers.

Yeah, I can see that, but with a horse it’s more about training I would imagine. A punishment/reward system. With a dog it’s more buddy like. I’ve never really had to chastise my dog, other than perhaps a little shock value smack when he was a pup. As for rewards, it doesn’t even have to be a treat (although it helps). Sometimes his reward appears to be just seeing me smile or laugh, which brings me on to sense of humour. My dog certainly has a sense of humour and knows what’s funny.

All that aside, I wouldn’t want a horse jumping up and sitting on my knee.

Dogs are way more smarter than we give them credit for. They are the only animal that has been able to establish a relationship with humans to such a close degree, having evolved alongside us for tens of thousands of years.

I don’t look at my dog Rocket as my pet, but rather as my best friend whom I rely on daily.

A while ago I didn’t want him to get overly excited when I said the word “walk”, so I started spelling it out instead. Didn’t take him long to figure out it was the same thing.

It’s not just a monologue either. He responds in ways that have subtle differences depending on how you say something and the intonation of what is said.

No other animal has even come close to creating such a close co-existence with humans. I’d go so far as to say they are better than most humans. People can be wankers, but a good dog will always have your back if treated with kindness and respect.

Okay. Duly noted and amended…

🇬🇧 English

🇺🇲 Fuckwit

🇬🇧 English

🇺🇲 Pidgin English

Yeah. What ads?

Young.

I got caught once by a speed camera doing 65 in a 50 zone. The camera was in an unmarked van parked on the motorway lay-by (conveniently just after some temporary road works). A few days later the postman delivers a fine in the mail, so I ignored it as it wasn’t sent by recorded delivery (so no proof of receipt). Now, by law in the UK, the police have 21 days to inform you of the offence and three weeks later I get another letter from the cops informing me that I have an unpaid fine. So I write to them and tell them that I never received it and that I have no recollection of being on that road. They then send me photographic evidence of my car being caught at 65 mph in a 50 zone and that I am obliged, by law, to declare who was driving. I write back and inform them that it was so long ago I have no memory of who might have been the designated driver, let alone even being on that road, and that because more than 21 days have passed they have failed to inform me of the offence. They write back with some nonsense about having proof that the letter was sent, but I argue that this isn’t proof of receipt and that I’d be guessing if I declared who I think might have been driving that day. Result being that I never heard from them again.

I have my own website account for personal stuff, and all the other stuff that was going to my Gmail account is being redirected now to Disroot.org where I’m slowly changing the address over for each mail that comes in. I know Disroot is probably not the best, but it was free, had POP3 and IMAP support (I use IMAP on my phone and POP3 on my desktop) and it’s not used for anything too important.

Like moronic millenial knuckle-dragger JD Vance.

I used Organic Maps on my CalyxOS phone a few days ago to navigate a 200 mile car drive home to the Scottish Highlands, and it worked flawlessly. The first 50 miles were through parts of Fife that I was not familiar with. I left it on for the rest of the journey just to track my progress and test it out. Very impressed with it. Maps are detailed and downloaded to the device for offline use. I’ve finally managed to deGoogle my life completely and will never use another Google product or service again.

That’s news to me. Spent a lot of time in the pagan community when I was young and stupid. Never heard it ever being regarded as a derogatory term. Most pagans I knew wore it as a badge of honour.

Being in the UK, I associate Celtic culture as being primarily Scottish, Irish or Welsh. Although the term “Celt” does date much further back than modern Celtic traditions.

Wrong.

And I know what year it is, thank you.

It’s like F-Droid, but for Pagans.

It used to be called Oil of Ulay here in the UK. When I went to Australia in the late 90s it was Oil of Ulan. Then one day I discovered it was Oil of Olay. I thought I was losing my mind and that this was a classic case of the Mandela Effect. Turns out it was just marketing, like Marathon becoming Snickers.