I hope John Roberts can't watch the NFL playoff games today because he has explosive diarrhea.
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#IHopeJohnRoberts eats the whole fzcking omelette and then wipes the plate clean with a bit of toast and eats that too.
Two hours after unknowingly eating the rat omelette, #IHopeJohnRoberts is in a filthy gas station bathroom expelling the poison from both ends when two other guys walk in talking sadly about Dolly Parton's passing, which he hadn't heard about yet, and he unexpectedly finds himself sobbing even though he never actually liked her music that much.
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This is a waste of time and electrons.
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I am nice. Also I don't believe in Karma. Also, reading lots of people's stupid things they hope will happen to John Roberts is almost as big a waste of time as writing down stupid things you want to happen to him.
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I am nice. Also I don't believe in Karma. Also, reading lots of people's stupid things they hope will happen to John Roberts is almost as big a waste of time as writing down stupid things you want to happen to him.
@Armadillosoft @DeliaChristina Yeah, that's a block, asshole. Bye.
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Two hours after unknowingly eating the rat omelette, #IHopeJohnRoberts is in a filthy gas station bathroom expelling the poison from both ends when two other guys walk in talking sadly about Dolly Parton's passing, which he hadn't heard about yet, and he unexpectedly finds himself sobbing even though he never actually liked her music that much.
After he finishes clearing his digestive tract of rat omelette and sobbing for the death of Dolly Parton, #IHopeJohnRoberts goes back to that public library and gets on one of the public computers to catch up on the world and is shocked to find that behind his back his wife (or he thinks it's his wife but who knows, maybe she's still abroad with her pelvic health therapist and it's actually the imposter who signed his name to that order about Trump's ballroom) but anyway someone pretending to be him has sold his home in Chevy Chase ( https://www.realtor.com/news/trends/supreme-court-john-roberts-maryland-home-sold-price/), and also some guy in Colorado has been trying to impersonate him (https://news.bloomberglaw.com/us-law-week/man-accused-of-impersonating-chief-justice-roberts-nsa-agent) though he doubts that's related, but taken all together he's starting to wonder once again whether he's actually dead and just thinks he's in Kansas City, which would be interesting because he never envisioned Heaven as being just like Kansas City, assuming he's in Heaven and not..., well anyway, being dead actually might be okay because apparently he no longer has a home to go back to anyway, and also he wonders what's happened to all his stuff just like other dead people do*.
*(Not everyone knows that dead people always wonder what's happened to their stuff, but he knows it's true, because Roberts' great great great grandfather told his father so in a dream and he's sure his father never lied to him ever.)
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After he finishes clearing his digestive tract of rat omelette and sobbing for the death of Dolly Parton, #IHopeJohnRoberts goes back to that public library and gets on one of the public computers to catch up on the world and is shocked to find that behind his back his wife (or he thinks it's his wife but who knows, maybe she's still abroad with her pelvic health therapist and it's actually the imposter who signed his name to that order about Trump's ballroom) but anyway someone pretending to be him has sold his home in Chevy Chase ( https://www.realtor.com/news/trends/supreme-court-john-roberts-maryland-home-sold-price/), and also some guy in Colorado has been trying to impersonate him (https://news.bloomberglaw.com/us-law-week/man-accused-of-impersonating-chief-justice-roberts-nsa-agent) though he doubts that's related, but taken all together he's starting to wonder once again whether he's actually dead and just thinks he's in Kansas City, which would be interesting because he never envisioned Heaven as being just like Kansas City, assuming he's in Heaven and not..., well anyway, being dead actually might be okay because apparently he no longer has a home to go back to anyway, and also he wonders what's happened to all his stuff just like other dead people do*.
*(Not everyone knows that dead people always wonder what's happened to their stuff, but he knows it's true, because Roberts' great great great grandfather told his father so in a dream and he's sure his father never lied to him ever.)
Philosophical question: do rats get off of a ship because it is sinking, or because they've eaten every tasty thing that was aboard?
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Philosophical question: do rats get off of a ship because it is sinking, or because they've eaten every tasty thing that was aboard?
@oldclumsy_nowmad Yes.
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After he finishes clearing his digestive tract of rat omelette and sobbing for the death of Dolly Parton, #IHopeJohnRoberts goes back to that public library and gets on one of the public computers to catch up on the world and is shocked to find that behind his back his wife (or he thinks it's his wife but who knows, maybe she's still abroad with her pelvic health therapist and it's actually the imposter who signed his name to that order about Trump's ballroom) but anyway someone pretending to be him has sold his home in Chevy Chase ( https://www.realtor.com/news/trends/supreme-court-john-roberts-maryland-home-sold-price/), and also some guy in Colorado has been trying to impersonate him (https://news.bloomberglaw.com/us-law-week/man-accused-of-impersonating-chief-justice-roberts-nsa-agent) though he doubts that's related, but taken all together he's starting to wonder once again whether he's actually dead and just thinks he's in Kansas City, which would be interesting because he never envisioned Heaven as being just like Kansas City, assuming he's in Heaven and not..., well anyway, being dead actually might be okay because apparently he no longer has a home to go back to anyway, and also he wonders what's happened to all his stuff just like other dead people do*.
*(Not everyone knows that dead people always wonder what's happened to their stuff, but he knows it's true, because Roberts' great great great grandfather told his father so in a dream and he's sure his father never lied to him ever.)
@msbellows Hmm, $250,000 above the asking price. A quick sale. Was it a cash deal without contingencies? Might one wonder whether this is a sub-rosa bribe?
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After he finishes clearing his digestive tract of rat omelette and sobbing for the death of Dolly Parton, #IHopeJohnRoberts goes back to that public library and gets on one of the public computers to catch up on the world and is shocked to find that behind his back his wife (or he thinks it's his wife but who knows, maybe she's still abroad with her pelvic health therapist and it's actually the imposter who signed his name to that order about Trump's ballroom) but anyway someone pretending to be him has sold his home in Chevy Chase ( https://www.realtor.com/news/trends/supreme-court-john-roberts-maryland-home-sold-price/), and also some guy in Colorado has been trying to impersonate him (https://news.bloomberglaw.com/us-law-week/man-accused-of-impersonating-chief-justice-roberts-nsa-agent) though he doubts that's related, but taken all together he's starting to wonder once again whether he's actually dead and just thinks he's in Kansas City, which would be interesting because he never envisioned Heaven as being just like Kansas City, assuming he's in Heaven and not..., well anyway, being dead actually might be okay because apparently he no longer has a home to go back to anyway, and also he wonders what's happened to all his stuff just like other dead people do*.
*(Not everyone knows that dead people always wonder what's happened to their stuff, but he knows it's true, because Roberts' great great great grandfather told his father so in a dream and he's sure his father never lied to him ever.)
While he's in the public library, #IHopeJohnRoberts finds a paperback copy of Kerouac's "The Dharma Bums" and since he really liked reading "On The Road" on the Greyhound bus ride from DC to KC, and since it doesn't look very expensive and he doesn't have a Kansas City library card and hasn't found any bookstores that have it in stock, he just puts it in his jacket pocket and walks out, except he doesn't realize library books now have RFID chips, and a loud alarm sounds and a very angry librarian (who, believe it or not, actually has sort of a beehive hairdo and wears those pointy tipped rhinestone-embedded glasses you always imagine when you're thinking of a librarian) comes storming out from behind her desk and he has to run out the front door like a common thief and he gets away but as he leans winded against a wall three blocks away he realizes that now he actually *is* a common thief, and he wonders whether something has shifted in his morals without him noticing, but then he shrugs off that feeling by reminding himself that he is a very very good man who only wants the best for his country and hasn't ever done anything he should feel guilty about, and he reassures himself that the fact that he's now living out of a duffel bag in a sleazy downtown Kansas City motel fully estranged from his entire family and no home to go back to and probably being hunted by the US Marshals Service all is simply a string of bad luck, not karma, and then when he gets back to his motel room he finds yet another dead rat lying on the threshold, so he turns around and goes to a liquor store around the corner and buys the first thing he sees, which is a bottle of fortified wine, which he carries out clutched in a thin paper bag.
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While he's in the public library, #IHopeJohnRoberts finds a paperback copy of Kerouac's "The Dharma Bums" and since he really liked reading "On The Road" on the Greyhound bus ride from DC to KC, and since it doesn't look very expensive and he doesn't have a Kansas City library card and hasn't found any bookstores that have it in stock, he just puts it in his jacket pocket and walks out, except he doesn't realize library books now have RFID chips, and a loud alarm sounds and a very angry librarian (who, believe it or not, actually has sort of a beehive hairdo and wears those pointy tipped rhinestone-embedded glasses you always imagine when you're thinking of a librarian) comes storming out from behind her desk and he has to run out the front door like a common thief and he gets away but as he leans winded against a wall three blocks away he realizes that now he actually *is* a common thief, and he wonders whether something has shifted in his morals without him noticing, but then he shrugs off that feeling by reminding himself that he is a very very good man who only wants the best for his country and hasn't ever done anything he should feel guilty about, and he reassures himself that the fact that he's now living out of a duffel bag in a sleazy downtown Kansas City motel fully estranged from his entire family and no home to go back to and probably being hunted by the US Marshals Service all is simply a string of bad luck, not karma, and then when he gets back to his motel room he finds yet another dead rat lying on the threshold, so he turns around and goes to a liquor store around the corner and buys the first thing he sees, which is a bottle of fortified wine, which he carries out clutched in a thin paper bag.
@msbellows Muttering "you can't fall off the mountain, spodee odee."
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@msbellows Muttering "you can't fall off the mountain, spodee odee."
@msbellows he must have picked up Dharma Bums already
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While he's in the public library, #IHopeJohnRoberts finds a paperback copy of Kerouac's "The Dharma Bums" and since he really liked reading "On The Road" on the Greyhound bus ride from DC to KC, and since it doesn't look very expensive and he doesn't have a Kansas City library card and hasn't found any bookstores that have it in stock, he just puts it in his jacket pocket and walks out, except he doesn't realize library books now have RFID chips, and a loud alarm sounds and a very angry librarian (who, believe it or not, actually has sort of a beehive hairdo and wears those pointy tipped rhinestone-embedded glasses you always imagine when you're thinking of a librarian) comes storming out from behind her desk and he has to run out the front door like a common thief and he gets away but as he leans winded against a wall three blocks away he realizes that now he actually *is* a common thief, and he wonders whether something has shifted in his morals without him noticing, but then he shrugs off that feeling by reminding himself that he is a very very good man who only wants the best for his country and hasn't ever done anything he should feel guilty about, and he reassures himself that the fact that he's now living out of a duffel bag in a sleazy downtown Kansas City motel fully estranged from his entire family and no home to go back to and probably being hunted by the US Marshals Service all is simply a string of bad luck, not karma, and then when he gets back to his motel room he finds yet another dead rat lying on the threshold, so he turns around and goes to a liquor store around the corner and buys the first thing he sees, which is a bottle of fortified wine, which he carries out clutched in a thin paper bag.
As he walks away from the liquor store clutching a bottle of MD 20/20 Banana Red fortified wine in a thin brown sack, stumbling occasionally because of the hole in his sockless shoe, #IHopeJohnRoberts ducks again into the alley that's becoming familiar to him to take a little rest against the wall, where he encounters an unhealthily thin man in ragged clothes who spots his bag and says, eyes blazing greedily, "is that wine, friend? Would you be willing to share with a brother?", so Roberts opens the screw cap and passes the bottle to his new friend, who takes a big long, long swig, then passes it back, and in five minutes the two of them have killed the bottle and traded names except Roberts told him his name was Lewis Powell, and when the bottle has become a dead soldier the two of them head back to the liquor store to buy another, pedestrians steering leerily out of their way as they progress.
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As he walks away from the liquor store clutching a bottle of MD 20/20 Banana Red fortified wine in a thin brown sack, stumbling occasionally because of the hole in his sockless shoe, #IHopeJohnRoberts ducks again into the alley that's becoming familiar to him to take a little rest against the wall, where he encounters an unhealthily thin man in ragged clothes who spots his bag and says, eyes blazing greedily, "is that wine, friend? Would you be willing to share with a brother?", so Roberts opens the screw cap and passes the bottle to his new friend, who takes a big long, long swig, then passes it back, and in five minutes the two of them have killed the bottle and traded names except Roberts told him his name was Lewis Powell, and when the bottle has become a dead soldier the two of them head back to the liquor store to buy another, pedestrians steering leerily out of their way as they progress.
As Chief Justice John Roberts and his new hobo friend weave down the sidewalk seeking another bottle of MD 20/20 fortified wine, I hope a police car slows down as it comes alongside them and the cop eyeballs them suspiciously through his open window, then slowly pulls away and turns the corner, and then a couple minutes later #IHopeJohnRoberts stops to retie his shoelace and notices that the cop car has gone around the block and now is following them surreptitiously from half a block back, and Roberts begins to feel afraid without knowing exactly why, and doesn't know what to do, having never felt afraid of the police before.
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As Chief Justice John Roberts and his new hobo friend weave down the sidewalk seeking another bottle of MD 20/20 fortified wine, I hope a police car slows down as it comes alongside them and the cop eyeballs them suspiciously through his open window, then slowly pulls away and turns the corner, and then a couple minutes later #IHopeJohnRoberts stops to retie his shoelace and notices that the cop car has gone around the block and now is following them surreptitiously from half a block back, and Roberts begins to feel afraid without knowing exactly why, and doesn't know what to do, having never felt afraid of the police before.
When John Roberts tells his new hobo friend that the police are following them half a block back and asks what they should do, I hope his new friend explains that the cops like to bust unhoused people for public drinking even if the bottle is kept in a paper sack, so the two of them continue to the liquor store but instead of another bottle of MD 20/20 Roberts instead gets them two pint bottles of Old Crow, which are flattish and easier to hide in his jacket pocket, but which have substantially higher alcohol content and probably will turn out to be a bad decision in hindsight. #IHopeJohnRoberts
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When John Roberts tells his new hobo friend that the police are following them half a block back and asks what they should do, I hope his new friend explains that the cops like to bust unhoused people for public drinking even if the bottle is kept in a paper sack, so the two of them continue to the liquor store but instead of another bottle of MD 20/20 Roberts instead gets them two pint bottles of Old Crow, which are flattish and easier to hide in his jacket pocket, but which have substantially higher alcohol content and probably will turn out to be a bad decision in hindsight. #IHopeJohnRoberts
As he's buying the Old Crow for himself and his new hobo friend, #IHopeJohnRoberts overhears a news story on the liquor store guy's radio about how he, John Roberts, angered the conservative majority by voting against Trump's new ballroom, and he wonders again who's posing as him back in DC, but also is relieved that at least Alito and Thomas aren't controlling his doppelganger because he's still mad at them about the whole cult-robes-candles-dead-rat incident, and then he puts it completely out of his mind because fuck them all, fuck all of them, and fuck Trump even, and he suggests to his new friend that they go to his cheap motel room to drink their cheap bourbon away from the prying eyes of the K.C. police. https://www.independent.co.uk/bulletin/news/john-roberts-white-house-dissent-trump-ballroom-b3042834.html
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As he's buying the Old Crow for himself and his new hobo friend, #IHopeJohnRoberts overhears a news story on the liquor store guy's radio about how he, John Roberts, angered the conservative majority by voting against Trump's new ballroom, and he wonders again who's posing as him back in DC, but also is relieved that at least Alito and Thomas aren't controlling his doppelganger because he's still mad at them about the whole cult-robes-candles-dead-rat incident, and then he puts it completely out of his mind because fuck them all, fuck all of them, and fuck Trump even, and he suggests to his new friend that they go to his cheap motel room to drink their cheap bourbon away from the prying eyes of the K.C. police. https://www.independent.co.uk/bulletin/news/john-roberts-white-house-dissent-trump-ballroom-b3042834.html
After they leave the liquor store and manage to duck away from the watching cop down the street and weave their way back to his cheap motel room, #IHopeJohnRoberts's new hobo friend expresses awe that his new pal "Lewis" actually could afford such of a glorious thing, and immediately asks if he can take a shower, which of course can, but of course when he comes out all he has to wear is his stinking clothing so the hobo friend, wearing nothing but a towel, starts washing all of his clothing in the tiny bathroom sink with the tiny motel soap and then hanging it everywhere to dry in the humid air, suggesting that he's planning on hanging out in Robert's motel room for several hours mostly naked, which makes John really glad they have those bottles of cheap bourbon, and he opens the first one.
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@davecarter Yeah, I suspect he's about to go through some shit. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.
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After they leave the liquor store and manage to duck away from the watching cop down the street and weave their way back to his cheap motel room, #IHopeJohnRoberts's new hobo friend expresses awe that his new pal "Lewis" actually could afford such of a glorious thing, and immediately asks if he can take a shower, which of course can, but of course when he comes out all he has to wear is his stinking clothing so the hobo friend, wearing nothing but a towel, starts washing all of his clothing in the tiny bathroom sink with the tiny motel soap and then hanging it everywhere to dry in the humid air, suggesting that he's planning on hanging out in Robert's motel room for several hours mostly naked, which makes John really glad they have those bottles of cheap bourbon, and he opens the first one.
As he reclines on the cheap motel bed next to his naked but clean new hobo friend (whose towel has slipped off), #IHopeJohnRoberts is pleasantly surprised to find he actually likes the slightly unusual taste of inexpensive Old Crow bourbon straight from a pint bottle, and takes another swig.
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As he reclines on the cheap motel bed next to his naked but clean new hobo friend (whose towel has slipped off), #IHopeJohnRoberts is pleasantly surprised to find he actually likes the slightly unusual taste of inexpensive Old Crow bourbon straight from a pint bottle, and takes another swig.
@msbellows don’t threaten him with a good time!
