The Real Reason Amazon’s Drone Delivery Service Isn’t Gonna Fly

The Real Reason Amazon’s Drone Delivery Service Isn’t Gonna Fly

So I hear Amazon doesn’t want to limit themselves to having the UPS driver throw your packages over the fence and drive away like a teenager with dad’s car anymore; they want to have a drone delivery service. I think I’ve spotted a problem in their cunning plan.

Well, not a problem for us. I mean I’ve spotted a problem for them. To paraphrase maybe the ultimate Borderline Sociopathic Boy, Winston Churchill:

We shall fight in the cul-de-sacs, we shall fight near the retention ponds and the drainage ditches near the stripmall, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our neighborhoods from the encroachments of hipsters getting Amazon iPhone drone deliveries, whatever the cost — to Amazon, I mean — may be. We shall fight them with slingshots, BB guns, and the occasional shotty if we live outside the city limits and no one’s looking; we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.

Oh, and by the by, lads, watch the video — if you do masculine things, pretty girls show up and do them with you. It’s like a law.

(Thanks to Jonathan Frost-Johnson for sending that one along) 

It’s Come To My Attention We Need A Theme Song Around Here

It’s Come To My Attention We Need A Theme Song Around Here

Nothing fancy, mind you. It just needs to capture our essential, well, whatsis. The American national anthem used to serve us pretty well, but it’s starting to lose its tone if you ask me. The rocket’s red glare, bombs bursting in air, and so forth and so on sounds pretty invigorating, but there’s a decided lack of interest in getting up in time to see the dawn’s early light these days. We need something from the land of the midnight sun, I reckon.

This one’ll do. It’s got mammoths and vikings and whatnot. Two-thirds of it looks like a Molly Hatchet album cover, and the other third looks like it should be painted on the side of Bill Brasky’s van. You know the one; it’s covered with skulls.

Do you ride mammoths bareback, or do you have a little saddle? I need to know.

The True Borderline Sociopathic Boy Uses Whatever’s Handy To Pick Up Chicks

The True Borderline Sociopathic Boy Uses Whatever’s Handy To Pick Up Chicks


OK, OK, so maybe she’s a little “broad in the beam.” When it’s Last Call, and Miss America ain’t showing up, the true Borderline Sociopathic Boy knows a girl wearing stack-soled go-go boots is worth a flyer. She’s up for anything. Why, I bet she’ll let you pick her up off the ground with two RC helicopters, and will also go halfsies on a suitcase of Bud Light. No sense looking a gift horse in the mouth.

(Sent along by Gerard at American Digest, who still picks up girls the old-fashioned way — hitchhikers)

If Liberace Needed An Armorer, This Would Be His Go-To Guy

If Liberace Needed An Armorer, This Would Be His Go-To Guy

A Borderline Sociopathic blogger’s work is never done.

I preach from the great pulpit in the church of stripped and rusty bolts and tablesaws with the guards removed. I go forth into the multitude and sing the praises of driving at night with the lights off. The coffee table has gun oil stains on it, the local kids stay off my lawn without being asked — er, told.

But some people don’t listen. They go to their mother’s beauty parlor to get their hair cut, then go to the gym to pack on five pounds of feminine-looking muscle. Then they fashion weapons they saw on an episode of My Little Pony and growl at the world like a kitten.

One thing I’ve noticed about people ready for a zombie horde: they aren’t ready for anyone that’s not dead yet.