Whether you support this guy:
Or this one:
Can we keep it fun?
Antiques Roadshow: White Privilege Edition
I am so grateful to the Sussex devotees, without whom I might never have gone rummaging around searching for all that priceless white privilege I never before knew I had! You see, I’ve been white for as long as I can remember; I grew up in an era during which being white was no big deal, and certainly not anything for which ANYBODY would pay good money. I imagine that the Romanov kids felt the same way about all those Faberge eggs that were laying about the family palaces!
I’m not sure how old my white privilege is, but I know it’s been in the family since at least the late 1800s, when my ancestors departed Western Europe to make a better life in America. I am really glad I kept the dilapidated steamer trunk in which it sailed to America with my Norwegian ancestors, because I understand stuff like that increases the appraisal value. My Nordic ancestors were dirt poor, and they left the old world with little more than the clothes upon their backs. There wasn’t much else stored in that trunk, so the family’s white privilege landed here in almost pristine condition. That's saying something, considering the trunk (and my relatives) sailed here in steerage, where they shared real estate with a few rats.
I wish I’d realized earlier the valuable of my great, great, great, grandparents’ white privilege! I could have traded it for a mansion in the Hamptons, a private jet, or some other bauble I wouldn’t know what to do with. Depending on the appraisal value, I will either take out a policy that will adequately insure it, or I will have it auctioned off and just suck it up and eat the capital gains tax. As problems go, having all that white privilege money, is one most would not mind having. Lucky me!!!
Borrowed from a friend...
A cowboy named Billy was overseeing his herd in a remote pasture when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced toward him out of a cloud of dust.
The driver, a man in a Brioni® suit, Gucci® shoes, RayBan® sunglasses and YSL® tie, leaned out the window and asked the cowboy, "If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?"
Billy looks at the man, who obviously is a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, "Sure, why not?"
The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell® notebook computer, connects it to his Cingular RAZR V3® cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo. The man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop® and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany ...Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot® that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses an MS-SQL® database through an ODBC connected Excel® spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry® and, after a few minutes, receives a response. Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet® printer, turns to the cowboy and says, "You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves."
"That's right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves," says Billy. He watches the man select one of the animals and looks on with amusement as the man stuffs it into the trunk of his car. Then Billy says to the man, "Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?"
The man thinks about it for a second and then says, "Okay, why not?"
"You're a Congressman for the U.S. Government", says Billy.
"Wow! That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?"
"No guessing required." answered the cowboy. "You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked. You used millions of dollars worth of equipment trying to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don't know a thing about how working people make a living - or about cows, for that matter. This is a herd of sheep. Now give me back my dog."
If everyone just doesn't drive for two weeks we can flatten the curve.
When the Beach Boys sang, California Girls, I don't think they had Maxine Waters, Nancy Pelosi or Dianne Feinstein in mind.
The real gas shortage is going to happen when it finally stops raining and the entire state of Texas mows their lawn at the same time.
Instead of donating his salary Biden is going to donate mine and yours.