The Farmer’s Market on Fairfax and 3rd is a Los Angeles landmark, attracting tourists and everyday Angelinos alike, as well as many famous faces. Among the celebrities I have seen there are Muhammad Ali, Terri Garr, Tyra Banks, Laura Linney, Keenan Ivory Wayans, the guitarist for The Cult, Lawrence Hilton-Jacobs, and Weird Al Yankovic.

But Ann Coulter is the only celebrity I’ve ever spotted at Farmer’s Market that I wound up fucking in the ass, hard.

It would be fair to observe that my feeling obligated to present the list of celebrities above in roughly Black-White-Black-White order is indicative of my own carefully Liberal sensibilities. And that this sort of conscientiousness is more than a little ridiculous, on examination. But what I notice about myself only on reflection, Ann Coulter seemed to recognize and respond to in an instant, like a puma recognizes an injured giselle. For Ann Coulter is a predator. A predator with a hungry asshole.

I first spotted her sitting at a table in front of The Gumbo Pot with another woman who looked not unlike her, but a generation older (I neglected to ask her at any point subsequently whether this had in fact been her mother). I vaguely recognized her—there’s always a lag time placing faces you know from cable when unconfined to a telescreen—and began to notice, stealing furtive glances up from the copy of Steinbeck I was reading, that she was eyeing me with unsettling scrutiny.

The next thing I knew, her companion (mother?) had left and Coulter was standing over me, looking skeptically at my reading material. ‘The Grapes of Wrath, huh?’ ‘Yes’ I said, faking composure. ‘It’s fantastic.’ ‘It’s a fantastic primer for vacuous proto-Communists everywhere,’ she said dismissively. ‘I don’t know about that..’ She sighed. ‘I don’t have enough ink in my pen to keep a running list of what you don’t know. May I?’ She motioned to the empty chair next to me. ‘Of course.’ It would be fair to say my voice trembled a little. She sat and said nothing. Ann Coulter evidently takes an unappreciative view of small talk. That she was eager to continue antagonizing me became evident when I re-opened my recently-insulted book to resume reading. A young man passed in a t-shirt proclaiming ‘Iraq Nam’. She stopped him. ‘1. Haircut. 2. Shower. 3. Get a job, you sniveling hippy,’ she glowered. ‘You’re probably too high to remember that, so write it down--if you can write.’ He looked at her with dismay and scampered away like a kicked cat. She turned to me with bloodlust. ‘What do you think of the war: complete success, or very nearly complete success?’ she asked. ‘Well, in no time—barring the strong possibility of Civil War--we’ll have a democratically-elected anti-US Islamicist government in charge of the world’s second-largest oil reserves, so I’d have to say only very-nearly, on the complete success scale, at a hysterically distorted best.’ She showed her teeth. ‘It sounds to me like you don’t support our troops.’ ‘I think that ‘Support Our Troops’ business is the most crass, craven cowardice ever to go unquestioned by the allegedly Liberal media.’ ‘Yes? Yes?’ There was oddly growing excitement in her voice. ‘It allows the Administration to absolve itself of responsibility for its own flawed policy. It’s no different than if you sent a classroom of 2nd graders into a burning building, and when anyone objects you throw in their face that they "don’t support our 2nd graders"’ ‘Where do you live?’ ‘A few blocks away.’ ‘Take me there.’

When we got to my apartment, she looked around glumly. ‘I was thinking you’d have half-burned American flags up on the wall,’ she said, disappointed. ‘That’s ridiculous. I love my country.’ ‘Whatever you think that means,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Don’t you have anything nasty to say about the President?’ ‘Like what?’ ‘Like he’s an imbecile, or corrupt, or a corrupt imbecile—the usual sore-loser bitter chatter.’ ‘To be honest, I didn’t like the nasty things that were said about Clinton, and I’ve decided to have respect for the Office, no matter who holds it. I don’t think President Bush is corrupt or an imbecile anyway. Would you like something to drink?’ ‘I think maybe this was a mistake,’ she said, starting to go. ‘That’s not to say I don’t disagree strongly with many of his policies and objectives.’ She seemed to reconsider. ‘Like what?’ ‘I don’t know. Name one.’ ‘Get me a drink first.’

With every point I expressed that ran counter to a view she held, she removed one article of clothing. Soon she sat on my couch naked, gently pulling at her untrimmed pubic hair, staring intently but not quite invitingly at me. The growing hard lump in my throat was just outpaced by the one in my pants. I was a little nervous because we had agreed on the last two points—the need to reconsider the option of nuclear energy, and drilling in the Arctic—and I noticed her oversized nipples were no longer hard. Luckily, she was, by this point, determined. ‘What do you think,’ she began provocatively, ‘of the President’s plan to privatize Social Security?’ I sighed with relief; this was as sure a promise to seal the deal as her asking if I had a condom. ‘I think it’s a payoff to the Americans the President has always been most intent on pleasing: the richest 1%.’ ‘What do you mean?’ she cooed. I noticed her nipples hardening once more. She dropped to her knees in front of me. She pushed me backwards and positioned my legs up in the air. ‘A stock’s value is even now only partially tied to the actual value of any publicly traded company. But who’s going to profit from inflated valuations when stock prices swell irrationally from the forced, artificial injection of capital? Her breath was hot on my ‘taint as she lifted my scrotum. ‘Yes? Yes?’ ‘You might as well shoehorn billions of dollars into the Baseball Card market. The price of a Derek Jeter rookie will be driven up to hundreds of thousands of dollars—before the bubble bursts and the whole market crashes massively.’ It was getting hard to stay on point as she tongue-fucked my shitter vigorously. ‘Don’t..Stop!!’ her contorted mouth pled from my butthole. ‘The top 1% will sell stocks at the inflated valuations to the novice investors-by-necessity, the market will swell and crash, and the same 1% will come back and re-purchase their holdings at pennies on the dollar. Meanwhile, Social Security will go bankrupt and all the novice investors will be eating catfood for the duration of their "golden years,'’ barring a massive Federal bailout several hundred times in excess of what the Savings & Loan scandal cost us.’ She sprung up on the couch on all fours and looked over her shoulder at me. She pointed to her twitching, puckered anus. ‘See this?’ I nodded eagerly. ‘I want you to wreck it.’ I spit on my skeezer-pleaser and, prying her ass cheeks apart like a hot dinner roll, drove it home, into the biggest browneye I had ever seen. She gurgled contentedly. Every thrust of my babymaker was met with a wrenched squeal as I grabbed her by the hips and began really leaning into it. ‘Harder!’ she begged, ‘Harder!! Tell me what you think of Chomsky!’ ‘I..think..he’s..brill..iant..but..I..don’t really agree with much of his stance on Israel, and--’ ‘You’re slowing down!’ she snapped. ‘DON’T SLOW DOWN!’ I went back to punishing her asshole, giving no thought whatsoever to compassionate conservatism as her chocolate socket gnawed on my pork pipe. She was babbling now, as out of a delirious reverie. ‘Feed it,' Ann Coulter rasped. 'Feed my hungry asshole!' I buried her face in a throw pillow and she swiveled her hips back on my fuckstick with obvious appreciation. My pace quickened as my man-magma built towards eruption. ‘Wait!’ she gasped, sensing the fuse on my yogurt cannon was burning quick. ‘I want to take you ass-to-mouth!’ I withdrew from her puckerhole with an audible ‘pop’ and she scrambled around, gulping at my wang-dang-doodle as though the lives of all her loved ones hinged on her marks for enthusiasm. Her eyes rolled up pleadingly as she threw her head down again and again on my magic johnson. I knew what she wanted. ‘There is a specter haunting Europe,’ I began, and she started to convulse spasmodically with her own thrashing orgasm, her head now dribbling in a blur against my groin. I repeated every Karl Marx quote I could think of until I reached my own ‘historic inevitability’ and launched surge after surge from my hairy boda bag. I ejaculated with what seemed like enough force to blow out the back of her head--but her head was made of stronger stuff. She sputtered, gobbled and gulped what I’d have to call a very liberal, even radically so, quantity of hot splooey. Once she caught her breath, she wiped her mouth, stood, and took me by the hand. ‘Let’s go to the bathroom.’ ‘Why?’ She seemed surprised I had to ask. Her tone was that of someone reminding another of something too obvious to need mention. ‘Uh, so I can get in the tub and you can piss all over me?’

I sat in a robe and watched her as she dressed. ‘Will I see you again?’ I asked tentatively. ‘Sure,’ she said, pointing to the TV. ‘On that.’ Some moments passed. I tried to dispel the awkward silence. ‘Well, nice meeting you,’ I offered. ‘You’ve really got a gift for tedious small talk,’ she shot back. I was a little hurt and, recognizing this, she softened just a shade as she reached for her purse to leave. ‘Hey.’ ‘Yes?’ I asked. ‘Thanks for not staring at my adam’s apple.’ ‘No problem.’ She let herself out without another word, and I sat in the late afternoon silence alone. I considered how it felt to be a disposable instrument in someone’s personal debasement fantasy.

All in all, it didn’t feel too bad.

!

There have been two major organizations that have come out of Dearborn that have put a spotlight on the importance of the Arab and Muslim vote. One of those organizations is the Uncommitted National Movement and the other is the Abandon Harris, formally known as the Abandon Biden campaign.

While they are two different groups, the main goal of the Uncommitted National Movement and Abandon Harris is to call for a ceasefire in Gaza.

“The only group that mobilized 101,000 voters to show up to the ballot box and raise their hands and say I need you to inspire me was the Listen to Michigan, Uncommitted National Movement and we came out of that experience and made an offer to the vice president’s campaign,” said Abbas Alawieh, co-founder of the Uncommitted National Movement.

“The entirety of our organizing anti-war voters, we heard from Democratic leaders say hey we sympathize with you but it has to wait until after the election as if our family lives could just be put on hold,” Alaweih added.

Alaweih says Democratic leaders did not listen to Arab and Muslim voters and he feels that helped President-elect Donald Trump win.

“In Dearborn, Michigan, Donald Trump has won the majority of votes,” said Alaweih. “This was entirely avoidable.”

CPU: 3700X

Motherboard: Aorus B550 Elite

RAM: 8GBx4 Corsair Vengence LPX 3200

GPU: PowerColor 5700XT

PSU: Cooler Master MWE 1050 V2

Built in 2020.

Since last month, my PC started having random reboots and giving 'Machine Check Exception' error, similar to these:

https://old.reddit.com/r/AMDHelp/comments/190mkn0/5950x_whea_error_18_machine_check_exception/

https://old.reddit.com/r/AMDHelp/comments/qia2e7/whea_18_critical_error_computer_goes_black_restart/

https://old.reddit.com/r/buildapc/comments/150m14n/pc_randomly_restarts_whealogger_id_18/

And now from the last 3 days the system doesn't boot. When I power on the computer, all fans start spinning but keyboard and mouse LEDs don't light up. Pressing CTRL+ALT+DEL doesn't reboot system neither does pressing the power button for few seconds.

I suspect that motherboard has gone kaput and isn't completing or even starting the boot process, which is why keyboard and mouse aren't getting any signal or power from motherboard or why restart or power down functionality is working.

Before the system stopped booting, I was trying to solve the machine check exception error by updating BIOS, updating chipset drivers, changing BIOS settings etc. But now I'm thinking none of it could've helped because the board itself was deteriorating.

Also during that time, I would randomly get display glitches (pic below) which could only be solved by restarting the machine so I was suspecting it might be GPU that was causing the problems.

!

Sometimes it would show chessboard like pattern. I guess this was also because of some issue with mobo-GPU connection?

Anyway before changing the board is there anything else I can try? Changing it is a pain so I'm trying to avoid that. 😂