I live in a District Twelve state and it is sad. The biggest hammer on coal has been natural gas from shale (they’re literally converting coal power plants here to gas b/c it’s so much cheaper). But people here are like ‘Thanks Obama! rabble! rabble! War on coal!’

Now granted, the new environmental regs don’t help…

The ‘hardest’ place I’ve ever gotten into is a nuclear reactor, which is reassuring. Factories are actually also harder to get into than most places, b/c of their paranoia over their manufacturing process & China.

To be sure, the very nice Secret Service guys do go through your bags before you’re allowed in.

Fun fact: You’re not allowed to give the agents free candy.

For Trump it was an online press registration. Literally your name, title, email, media outlet (no link, just name) and phone number. No photo, nothing.

I saw folks there from some pretty small/rando-publications, which makes me think anyone other than ‘bob’s blog’ could get in — or fake it (not that I am suggesting or…

As a member of the press, I can confirm that 99% of the job is ‘looking like you belong there.’ Also, walking with a purpose and flashing a press badge will get you into most places. 

It’s amazing how far people will let a member of the press go before they stop you, mostly out of their own confusion and desire to…

As a father of 2, I endorse this answer.

That’s the one! I don’t think anyone ever got far into it. It was one of those impossible old strategy games, where if you did something dumb at the beginning you wouldn’t realize until 18 hours into the game when it bit you in the ass and there was no ‘respec’ to fix it, meaning you had to just scrub the whole game.

Fu…

Where is bluegrass? Is he including it in folk or country? Really, should be a separate thing.

An old, old and mostly forgotten game called “Fantasy General” had a kick ass soundtrack as well. It was pretty much just all hymns... which actually worked really well in a turn-based strategy game for some weird reason.

Dear lord, go read the comments on that article:

“So, you have an ADHD, spoiled, narcissistic man who cannot admit failure” ... and yet this man could STILL be our president. It gives me a migraine just trying to reconcile that.

I just spit out my drink of water on my keyboard.

Best part of the debate for me was my normally mild-mannered, non-politically-invested wife yelling at the TV: “HER ADS ARE JUST CLIPS OF THAT ASSHOLE TALKING!!!”

I feel the same way. Had a party at the house this weekend, invited the entire white, middle class suburban neighborhood. Even the die-hard (retired) Republicans were saying they weren’t voting for him (they did not go so far as to say they would vote for Hillary).

This. So much this.

Election note: Do not write in weird names because they won’t be counted. Most election offices throw away/don’t bother counting rando write-ins because it’s ‘too manpower intensive’.

$200 a year for ad-free tv? FUCK ME, where do I sign?

‘GOD SAVE THE QUEEN’ is my anthem.

Cargo shorts and carpenter jeans are the way to go. I found the last pair of the latter in American at some random farm store in Iowa. Had them shipped to my house.

Every six months I go through a low point. An ‘oh God why.’ I cry in the car on the way home from work, thinking about my kids. Then I have a beer. Then another. And another.