Politička korektnost

[Dagmar]

:o zar rec master nije postojala u pred robovlasnicko vreme?

 

Jel ima uopšte predrobovlasničko vreme

[Caligula]

Jel ima uopšte predrobovlasničko vreme

 

pa dobro, ovo je ocigledno vezano za robovlasnicki period, zato pitam sta je rec znacila ranije,etimologija etc.

[precog]

master ti je skraceno od masterbater, na starogrckom αὐτάρκεια, a na novogrckom kauboj.

[Bujodrag]

house master...do bola glup naziv za obicnog nadstojnika

 

A i nadstojnik je uvredljivo. Šta je on, kao, iznad drugih, običnih ljudi.

Mene to vredja.

Ulažem protest i s indignacijama dostojanstveno odlazim da se žalim moderaciji na mikroagresiju!

[namenski]

Jedno od znacenja je i izrazito pomorsko: master je zapovednik broda - nikako ne brkati sa popularnim kapetanom - i kod nas je najpribliznije izrazu barba...

Postoji, da ne idem u sitna crevca, i zvanicna titula u trgovackoj/komercijalnoj mornarici - Master Mariner.

I - izraz je stariji od svih Harvarda jebala ih PC.

[Caligula]

 

I - izraz je stariji od svih Harvarda jebala ih PC.

 

 

to sam hteo da cujem

[Krošek]

ne branim ja nista, samo vam iznosim stvarne okolnosti. nije ni blizu toliko debilno kao da izbacuju master iz master of arts...ali je debilno

[Krošek]

melisa klik dobila otkaz

(to ona gospoja koja govori "i need some muscle over here" tokom studentskog protesta)

“The board respects Dr. Click’s right to express her views and does not base this decision on her support for students engaged in protest or their views,” Henrickson said in the prepared statement. “However, Dr. Click was not entitled to interfere with the rights of others, to confront members of law enforcement or to encourage potential physical intimidation against a student.”

[bigvlada]

house master...do bola glup naziv za obicnog nadstojnika

 

Ephraim Kishon je to objasnio u jednoj od svojih kratkih priča. Austrijancima je terapija za nedostatak monarhije to što svi imaju titule od bar tri reči, od liftboja od univerzitetskog profesora. 

[namenski]

TRAGEDIJA U HARLEMU

Gospodja Fink navrati u stan gdje Kasidi, sprat niže.
— Zar ne izgleda divno? — reče gdja Kasidi. Ona ponosno ispruži glavu da joj njena prijateljica gdja Fink što bolje vidi lice. Jedno joj je oko gotovo zatvoreno, s debelom zelenkasto-crvenom masnicom svud naokolo. Usne su joj bile razbijene i malo su krvarile, a na vratu su se još videli crveni otisci prstiju od stezanja.
— Moj muž nikad ne bi ni pomislio da tako što radi sa mnom — reče gdja Fink skrivajući svoju zavist.
— A ja nijednog čoveka ne bih smatrala za muža kad me ne bi tukao bar jedanput nedeljno — izjavi gdja Kasidi. — To ti je najbolji dokaz da mu je stalo do tebe. Pogledaj. Poslednja doza koju mi je Džek dao ovog puta malo je veća od prosečne. Ali zato do kraja nedelje on će biti najsladji čovek na svetu da bi se odužio za sve ovo. Pozorišne karte i svilena bluza najmanje je što će mi ovo oko doneti.
— Ja se nadam — reče gdja Fink tešeći se — da je g. Fink toliki džentlmen da nikad neće dići ruku na mene.
— Ah, Magi, idi bogati! — uzvrati gdja Kasidi kroz smeh i mažući se nekim melemom. — Ti mi samo zavidiš. Tvoj stari previše je mlitav i mama da bi te zviznuo koji put. On se prosto sruči na stolicu kad dodje kući, a fiskultura mu je čitanje novina — zar nije tako?
— Sto se tiče novina, — priznade gdja Fink klimajući i glavom — jeste da ih moj muž čita kad dodje kući. Ali da me isprebija namrtvo iz svog čistog zadovoljstva. .. To sigurno ne.
Gdja Kasidi se smejala smehom srećne, zbrinute žene. S gestom jedne Kornelije koja pokazuje svoje adidjare, ona razgnnu kragnu svog kimona i otkri još jednu dragocenu masnicu, kestenjaste boje, sa nijansama narandžaste i maslinove boje po ivicama. Povreda je već bila skoro zaceljena, ali je ostala draga u sećanju.
Gdja Fink kapitulira. Onaj u početku hladni pogled u njenim očima zagreja se i pretvori u zavidno divljenje. Ona i gdja Kasidi dobre su drugarice i zajedno su radile u fabrici kartonskih kutija tu u predgradju, dok se pre godinu dana nisu udale. Sada ona i njen muž imaju stan iznad Mem i njenog muža. Zbog toga se i smatrala nešto više od Mem.
— Boli li to kad te mlati? — upita gdja Fink radoznalo.
— Da li boli? — Gdja Kasidi pusti tanak uzvik divljenja, kao pravi sopran. — Kako da ti to kažem ... da li ti se ikad srušila na glavu neka kuća od cigala? Eto, baš tako se osećaš ... baš kao da te izvlače iz ruševina. Džek ima levu pesnicu koja vredi dva matinea u pozorištu i novi par cipela od antilope; a desnu . .. bogami, to da bi popravio stajaće ga izvodjenje u Koni i bar šest svilenih maramica.
— Dobro, ali zašto te bije? — pitala je gdja Fink razrogačenih očiju.
— Baš si luda! — uzvrati gdja Kasidi uvredjeno. — Zašto? Zato što je besan. To je obično subotom uveče.
— Ah kakav mu povod daješ? — ispitivala je gdja Fink, željna znanja i prosvećivanja.
Pa zar se nije oženio sa mnom? Džek dodje nakresan, a ja sam ovde, zar ne? Koga drugog može da bije? Još mi to treba — da nadje neku drugu da bije! Ponekad me mlati što večera još nije gotova; ponekad baš što je već gotova. Džek nije veliki probirač što se tiče motiva. On lunja naokolo, dok se ne seti da je ženjen, i onda dodje kući i izmlati me. U subotu uveče ja sam sklonila ustranu sav nameštaj koji ima oštre ivice i uglove, da ne bih rascopala glavu kad počne da me lema. Negov udarac levom rukom svu te ošamuti. Ponekad, dovoljna mi je samo prva runda. Ali, bogami, kad hoću da se naročito lepo provedem iduće nedelje i da dobijem neke nove dronjke, dignem se i izdržim još jednu. Tako sam postupila i sinoć. Džek je znao da već mesec dana priželjkujem bluzu od crne svile, a nisam bila sigurna da će za to biti dovoljna samo jedna masnica na oku. Možeš da misliš šta hoćeš, Magi, ali se kladim da će večeras i čokolade da mi donese.
Gdja Fink se bila duboko zamislila. Mene moj Martin nije nikad ni prstom gurnuo — reče ona. — Tačno je onako kao što si ti malopre rekla, Mem. Dodje kući mrzovoljan i ne kaže ni reči. Nikad me nigde nije izveo. Voli da zagreje stolicu kod kuće i nikud se ne miče. Istina, kupuje mi stvari, ali uvek se toliko oneraspoloži zbog potrošenih para da meni to ne čini neko zadovoljstvo.
Gdja Kasidi zagrli svoju drugaricu.
— Jadnice moja! — reče ona. — Naravno, svako ne može da ima muža kao što je Džek. Da su svi kao on, ne bi bilo nesrećnih brakova i razvoda. Nezadovoljne žene o kojima toliko slušaš, šta njima treba? .. . treba im čovek koji jednom nedeljno dodje kući, isprebija im rebra, a onda ih zaspe poljupcima i filovanim bonbonama. To im pravi život interesantnim. Ono što meni treba, to je čovek koji te majstorski izlema kad je nakrivo nasadjen, i ume da te zagrli kad nije zle volje. Sačuvaj me bože čoveka koji ni jedno ni drugo ne ume kako treba.
Gdja Fink uzdahnu.
U pretsoblju se najednom začu lupnjava. Vrata se s treskom otvoriše i na njima se pojavi g. Kasidi. Ruke su mu bile pune paketa. Mem pritrča i zagrli ga. Njeno zdravo oko blistalo je od ljubavnog žara, kao što sijaju oči Maori devojke kad se osvesti u kolibi u kojoj ju je njen voljeni pretukao u ljubavnom zanosu i ostavio onesvesćenu.
— Gde si, devojčice moja! — uzviknu g. Kasidi, baci pakete iz ruku, zgrabi svoju ženu i poče da je vrti oko sebe u snažnom zagrljaju.
— Imamo karte za cirkus — reče zatim. — A ako otvoriš jiedan od onih paketa, naći ćeš i svilenu bluzu, nadam se . .. Gle, gdja Fink, nisam vas odmah primetio.. . Dobro veče. Kako je dobri čovek Martin?
— Hvala, vrlo dobro — reče gdja Fink. — Sad moram da odem gore. Martin će skoro doći na večeru. Doneću vam, Mem, sutra one mustre koje ste hteli da vidite.
Gdja Fink se pope u stan i brižnu u plač. To je bio besmislen plač, plač koji samo žena može da razume, koji nema nikakav odredjen uzrok, plač koji je, jednom rečju, potpuno besmislen, onaj najspontaniji i najbespomoćniji plač u repertoaru jadanja. Zašto je Martin nikad nije tukao? Veliki je i snažan ništa manje od Džeka Kasidija. Da li mu je uopšte stalo do nje? On se nikad ne svadja. Dodje kući i izležava se, ćutljiv, lenj, mračan. On je dobar domaćin, ali ne ume da začini život, da ga učini interesantnim.
Jahta snova gdje Fink nije imala vetra koji će je nositi. Njen kapetan je dremao. Kad bi se samo razmrdaoi i s vremena na vreme tresnuo nogom po maloj palubi! A ona je htela da plovi punim jedrima, dodirujući pristaništa romantičnih ostrva svojih snova. Za trenutak, ona oseti mržnju prema Mem, toj Mem s njenim čvorugama i masnicama, s gomilama paketa i pljuskovima poljubaca, prema njenom burnom plovljenju s borbenim, brutalnim, strašnim mužjakom.
G. Fink dodje kući oko sedam časova. On je imao ogromnu naklonost za domaći život. Nije voleo da lunja i ništa ga nije vuklo van praga njegove udobne kuće. On je bio čovek koji je uhvatio tramvaj, zmija anakonda koja je progutala svoj plen, drvo koje leži onako kako je palo.
-     Svidja li ti se večera, Martine? — upita gdja: Fink trudeći se da sakrije uzbudjenje.
— Aha! — promrmlja g. Fink.
Posle večere on pokupi novine da ih čita. Skinuo je cipele i sedeo u čarapama. Ustani novi Dante i opisi mi prokletstvo čoveka koji u domaćem kutku sedi u čarapama!
Sutradan bio je Praznik rada. Toga dana g. Fink i g. Kasidi nisu morali da idu na posao. Radnici, pobedonosno raspoloženi, paradirali su toga dana ili se na druge načine zabavljali.
Rano ujutru, gdja Fink donese mustre gdji Kasidi. Mem je bila u svojoj novoj bluzi. Cak i ono njeno naduveno oko sijalo je nekim prazničnim raspoloženjem. Džek je bio vrlo umiljat i oni su napravih divan plan za provod, koji obuhvata zabavišta u parkovima, piknike i plzensko pivo.
Gdja Fink se vrati u svoj stan obuzeta uzavrelom, neobuzdanom zavišću. O, srećne li Mem, s njenim masnicama i melemom koji sve brzo isceljuje! Ali zar ta Mem ima monopol na sreću, zar je ona jedina rodjena da uživa? Svakako, Martin Fink je muškarac isto koliko i Džek Kasidi. Pa zar će njegova žena uvek ostati nelemana i negrljena? Najednom, jedna sjajna ideja sinu gdji Fink i ... dah joj zastade. Pokazaće ona Mem da i drugi muževi umeju da razmahnu pesnicama, a zatim da budu isto onako nežni kao i njen Džek.
Dan je samo nominalno imao da bude prazničan za Finkove. Gdja Fink je u kujni postavila korito i napunila ga rubljem od dve nedelje, koje je preko noći ležalo pokvašeno. G. Fink je sedeo u čarapama i čitao novine. I tako je praznik rada bio sav u slutnjama.
Zavist je sve više obuzimala srce gdje Fink i sve više je učvršćivala u jednoj smeloj odluci. Ako njen muž sam od sebe neće da digne ruku na nju, ako neće sam time da pokaže svoju muževnost, svoje pravo i svoje interesovanje za bračni život, onda će ona njega primorati da izvrši svoju dužnost.
G. Fink pripali lulu i smireno je zglavak na nozi češkao prstom druge noge u čarapi. To je pretstavljalo vrhunac njegove sreće, njegov raj: da sedi tako raskomoćen, okružen svetom koji se ogledao u novinama, usred pljiskanja sapunice pod ženinom rukom, uživajući u zadovoljstvu svarenog doručka i u mirisu pretstojećeg ručka. Mnoge ideje daleko su bile od njega. Ali poslednja koja bi mogla da mu padne na pamet, to je da bije svoju ženu.
Gdja Fink usu toplu vodu i stavi u korito dasku za pranje rublja. Iz stana ispod njih dopirao je radostan smeh gdje Kasidi. Zvučao je kao neko razmetanje, kao ruganje nevesti tamo gore koja nikad nije osetila muževljevu pesnicu. Ali sada je došlo pet minuta gdje Fink.
Iznenada, ona kao kakva furija nasrnu na svog muža koji se sav bio uneo u čitanje.
— Ti lenji besposličaru! — dreknu ona. — Zar hoćeš da mi ruke otpadnu znojeći se ovde i trljajući rublje za jednu nakazu kao što si ti? Jesi li ti muškarac ili si kuhinjska pudlica?
G. Finku ispadoše novine iz ruku od iznenadjenja. Bio je sav zgranut.
Ona se uplaši da on ipak neće da je bije, da njeno izazivanje nije bilo dovoljno. Zato pritrča i iz sve snage lupi ga pesnicom po licu. U tom trenutku ona oseti kako je obuzima ljubav prema njemu kao što nikad dotle nije оsеćala. Martine Finku, skoči i osvoji carstvo svoje! O, ona mora sad da oseti težinu njegove ruke, da oseti da je njemu stalo do nje, da mu je stalo!
G. Fink zaista skoči na noge, kad ga Magi drugom rukom još jednom zviznu po donjoj vilici. Gdja Fink zatvori oči, očekujući taj jezivi ali blažem trenutak kad će osetiti (šaptala je u sebi njegovo ime) udarac njegove ruke. Ona se podmetnu tome udarcu, čežnjivo ga iščekujući...
Jedan sprat niže, g. Kasidi, sav postidjen i smeran, pudrao je naduveno oko svoje žene, pripremajući se za izlet. Iz stana iznad njih začuše se visoki piskavi ženski glasovi, obaranje stolice, treskanje nogom i komešanje — nesumnjivi znaci domaće razmirice.
— Martin i Magi se koškaju — zaključi g. Kasidi. — Nisam znao da i oni to rade. Kako bi bilo da skoknem i vidim da li treba neko da ih rastavi?
Jedno oko gdje Kasidi zasija kao dijamant, dok je drugo svetlucalo bar kao djindjuva.
— O,o! — reče ona s toplinom i bez nekog naročitog smisla, na svoj uobičajeni ženski način. — Nisam baš tako sigurna... nisam. Čekaj ti ovde, dok ja odem i vidim šta se zbiva.
I ona ustrča uz stepenice. Kako kroči nogom u pretsoblje, iz kujne izlete sve razbarušena gdja Fink.
— O, Magi! — uskliknu gdja Kasidi prigušenim glasom ali oduševljena, ... je li te, je li te? ...
Gdja Fink pritrča, nasloni glavu na rame svoje prijateljice i gorko zajeca.
Gdja Kasidi zagrli gdju Fink obema rukama i radoznalo zagleda njeno liсе. To lice je, istina, bilo obliveno suzama, uzavrelo i bledo, ali onako glatko kao somot, rumeno-belo i pokriveno ljupkim pegicama, ono nije bilo nagrdjeno nikakvim ogrebotinama, ni ožiljcima, ni masnicama, koje bi poticale od muževne pesnice g. Finka.
— Kaži mi, Magi, šta je to bilo? — preklinjala je Mem. — Kaži, ili idem sama da vidim. Sta je bilo? Je li te tukao ... šta je radio?
Gdja Fink, sva očajna, ponovo zagnjuri glavu na grudi svoje prijateljice.
— Zaboga, Magi ne otvaraj kuhinjska vrata, preklinjem te — reče ona grcajući. — I nikom nemoj da me odaš . .. nikom. On. .. me ni prstom nije dirnuo ... i eno ga . .. eno ga u kujni. .. pere rublje .. . pere rublje! …

 

O. Henry

 

[namenski]

Ulysses and the Dogman

Do you know the time of the dogmen?
When the forefinger of twilight begins to smudge the clear-drawn lines of the Big City there is inaugurated an hour devoted to one of the most melancholy sights of urban life.

Out from the towering flat crags and apartment peaks of the cliff dwellers of New York steals an army of beings that were once men, Even yet they go upright upon two limbs and retain human form and speech; but you will observe that they are behind animals in progress. Each of these beings follows a dog, to which he is fastened by an artificial ligament.

These men are all victims to Circe. Not willingly do they become flunkeys to Fido, bell boys to bull terriers, and toddlers after Towzer. Modern Circe, instead of turning them into animals, has kindly left the difference of a six-foot leash between them. Every one of those dogmen has been either cajoled, bribed, or commanded by his own particular Circe to take the dear household pet out for an airing.

By their faces and manner you can tell that the dogmen are bound in a hopeless enchantment. Never will there come even a dog-catcher Ulysses to remove the spell.

The faces of some are stonily set. They are past the commiseration, the curiosity, or the jeers of their fellow-beings. Years of matrimony, of continuous compulsory canine constitutionals, have made them callous. They unwind their beasts from lamp posts, or the ensnared legs of profane pedestrians, with the stolidity of mandarins manipulating the strings of their kites.

Others, more recently reduced to the ranks of Rover's retinue, take their medicine sulkily and fiercely. They play the dog on the end of their line with the pleasure felt by the girl out fishing when she catches a sea-robin on her hook. They glare at you threateningly if you look at them, as if it would be their delight to let slip the dogs of war. These are half-mutinous dogmen, not quite Circe-ized, and you will do well not to kick their charges, should they sniff around your ankles.

Others of the tribe do not seem to feel so keenly. They are mostly unfresh youths, with gold caps and drooping cigarettes, who do not harmonize with their dogs. The animals they attend wear satin bows in their collars; and the young men steer them so assiduously that you are tempted to the theory that some personal advantage, contingent upon satisfactory service, waits upon the execution of their duties.

The dogs thus personally conducted are of many varieties; but they are one in fatness, in pampered, diseased vileness of temper, in insolent, snarling capriciousness of behaviour. They tug at the leash fractiously, they make leisurely nasal inventory of every door step, railing, and post. They sit down to rest when they choose; they wheeze like the winner of a Third Avenue beefsteak-eating contest; they blunder clumsily into open cellars and coal holes; they lead the dogmen a merry dance.

These unfortunate dry nurses of dogdom, the cur cuddlers, mongrel managers, Spitz stalkers, poodle pullers, Skye scrapers, dachshund dandlers, terrier trailers and Pomeranian pushers of the cliff-dwelling Circes follow their charges meekly. The doggies neither fear nor respect them. Masters of the house these men whom they hold in leash may be, but they are not masters of them. From cosey corner to fire escape, from divan to dumbwaiter, doggy's snarl easily drives this two-legged being who is commissioned to walk at the other end of his string during his outing.

One twilight the dogmen came forth as usual at their Circes' pleading, guerdon, or crack of the whip. One among them was a strong man, apparently of too solid virtues for this airy vocation. His expression was melancholic, his manner depressed. He was leashed to a vile white dog, loathsomely fat, fiendishly ill-natured, gloatingly intractable toward his despised conductor.

At a corner nearest to his apartment house the dogman turned down a side street, hoping for fewer witnesses to his ignominy. The surfeited beast waddled before him, panting with spleen and the labour of motion.

Suddenly the dog stopped. A tall, brown, long-coated, wide-brimmed man stood like a Colossus blocking the sidewalk and declaring:

"Well, I'm a son of a gun!"

"Jim Berry!" breathed the dogman, with exclamation points in his voice.

"Sam Telfair," cried Wide-Brim again, "you ding-basted old willy-walloo, give us your hoof!"

Their hands clasped in the brief, tight greeting of the West that is death to the hand-shake microbe.

"You old fat rascal!" continued Wide-Brim, with a wrinkled brown smile; "it's been five years since I seen you. I been in this town a week, but you can't find nobody in such a place. Well, you dinged old married man, how are they coming?"

Something mushy and heavily soft like raised dough leaned against Jim's leg and chewed his trousers with a yeasty growl.

"Get to work," said Jim, "and explain this yard-wide hydrophobia yearling you've throwed your lasso over. Are you the pound-master of this burg? Do you call that a dog or what?"

"I need a drink," said the dogman, dejected at the reminder of his old dog of the sea. "Come on."

Hard by was a cafe. 'Tis ever so in the big city.

They sat at a table, and the bloated monster yelped and scrambled at the end of his leash to get at the cafe cat.

"Whiskey," said Jim to the waiter.

"Make it two," said the dogman.

"You're fatter," said Jim, "and you look subjugated. I don't know about the East agreeing with you. All the boys asked me to hunt you up when I started, Sandy King, he went to the Klondike. Watson Burrel, he married the oldest Peters girl. I made some money buying beeves, and I bought a lot of wild land up on the Little Powder. Going to fence next fall. Bill Rawlins, he's gone to farming. You remember Bill, of course -- he was courting Marcella -- excuse me, Sam -- I mean the lady you married, while she was teaching school at Prairie View. But you was the lucky man. How is Missis Telfair?"

"S-h-h-h!" said the dogman, signalling the waiter; "give it a name."

"Whiskey," said Jim.

"Make it two," said the dogman.

"She's well," he continued, after his chaser. "She refused to live anywhere but in New York, where she came from. We live in a flat. Every evening at six I take that dog out for a walk. It's Marcella's pet. There never were two animals on earth, Jim, that hated one another like me and that dog does. His name's Lovekins. Marcella dresses for dinner while we're out. We eat tabble dote. Ever try one of them, Jim?"

"No, I never," said Jim. "I seen the signs, but I thought they said 'table de hole.' I thought it was French for pool tables. How does it taste?"

"If you're going to be in the city for awhile we will --"

"No, sir-ee. I'm starting for home this evening on the 7.25. Like to stay longer, but I can't."

"I'll walk down to the ferry with you," said the dogman.

The dog had bound a leg each of Jim and the chair together, and had sunk into a comatose slumber. Jim stumbled, and the leash was slightly wrenched. The shrieks of the awakened beast rang for a block around.

"If that's your dog," said Jim, when they were on the street again, "what's to hinder you from running that habeas corpus you've got around his neck over a limb and walking off and forgetting him?"

"I'd never dare to," said the dogman, awed at the bold proposition. "He sleeps in the bed, I sleep on a lounge. He runs howling to Marcella if I look at him. Some night, Jim, I'm going to get even with that dog. I've made up my mind to do it. I'm going to creep over with a knife and cut a hole in his mosquito bar so they can get in to him. See if I don't do it!"

"You ain't yourself, Sam Telfair. You ain't what you was once. I don't know about these cities and flats over here. With my own eyes I seen you stand off both the Tillotson boys in Prairie View with the brass faucet out of a molasses barrel. And I seen you rope and tie the wildest steer on Little Powder in 39 1-2."

"I did, didn't I?" said the other, with a temporary gleam in his eye. "But that was before I was dogmatized."

"Does Misses Telfair --" began Jim.

"Hush!" said the dogman. "Here's another cafe."

They lined up at the bar. The dog fell asleep at their feet.

"Whiskey," said Jim.

"Make it two," said the dogman.

"I thought about you," said Jim, "when I bought that wild land. I wished you was out there to help me with the stock."

"Last Tuesday," said the dogman, "he bit me on the ankle because I asked for cream in my coffee. He always gets the cream."

"You'd like Prairie View now," said Jim. "The boys from the round-ups for fifty miles around ride in there. One corner of my pasture is in sixteen miles of the town. There's a straight forty miles of wire on one side of it."

"You pass through the kitchen to get to the bedroom," said the dogman, "and you pass through the parlour to get to the bath room, and you back out through the dining-room to get into the bedroom so you can turn around and leave by the kitchen. And he snores and barks in his sleep, and I have to smoke in the park on account of his asthma."

"Don't Missis Telfair--" began Jim.

"Oh, shut up!" said the dogman. "What is it this time?"

"Whiskey," said Jim.

"Make it two," said the dogman.

"Well, I'll be racking along down toward the ferry," said the other.

"Come on, there, you mangy, turtle-backed, snake-headed, bench-legged ton-and-a-half of soap-grease!" shouted the dogman, with a new note in his voice and a new hand on the leash. The dog scrambled after them, with an angry whine at such unusual language from his guardian.

At the foot of Twenty-third Street the dogman led the way through swinging doors.

"Last chance," said he. "Speak up."

"Whiskey," said Jim.

"Make it two," said the dogman.

"I don't know," said the ranchman, "where I'll find the man I want to take charge of the Little Powder outfit. I want somebody I know something about. Finest stretch of prairie and timber you ever squinted your eye over, Sam. Now if you was --"

"Speaking of hydrophobia," said the dogman, "the other night he chewed a piece out of my leg because I knocked a fly off of Marcella's arm. 'It ought to be cauterized,' says Marcella, and I was thinking so myself. I telephones for the doctor, and when he comes Marcella says to me: 'Help me hold the poor dear while the doctor fixes his mouth. Oh, I hope he got no virus on any of his toofies when he bit you.' Now what do you think of that?"

"Does Missis Telfair--" began Jim.

"Oh, drop it," said the dogman. "Come again!"

"Whiskey," said Jim.

"Make it two," said the dogman.

They walked on to the ferry. The ranchman stepped to the ticket window.

Suddenly the swift landing of three or four heavy kicks was heard, the air. was rent by piercing canine shrieks, and a pained, outraged, lubberly, bow-legged pudding of a dog ran frenziedly up the street alone.

"Ticket to Denver," said Jim.

"Make it two," shouted the ex-dogman, reaching for his inside pocket.

 

 

O. Henry

[Krošek]

Neanderthal Experts Really Want Us to Stop Using ‘Neanderthal’ as an Insult

 

...

In a recently published a paper, Dr. Paola Villa at the University of Colorado argued against the “modern human superiority complex” which has been used as a reason for Neanderthal extension.

 

There once “was a time when many people, including physicians, thought that the shape of skull revealed the mental and moral characteristic of the person,” she writes. Neanderthal skulls, with their craggy brows and big teeth, were a phrenological nightmare, and “it became common to believe that [their owners] were primitive and brutish.”

 

All of the experts concede despite many abilities, Neanderthals weren’t capable of the kind of thought that humans today are. Thus, they are literally incapable of opposing things like gay marriage or denigrating women. “The American vocabulary is rich and varied,” Villa writes. “If you want to offend somebody… there is no need to fall back on Neanderthals.”

 

dobra zeza :)

 

osim sto nije zeza

 

[Hella]

i posle se neko čudi odakle svi oni terori po pritupastoj evropi samo kod zlikovca orbana koji je iskulirao multikulti dogmu ništa

 

Britain would be safer if its defence policy was to have “cups of tea” with Isil terrorists rather than bomb them, one of Jeremy Corbyn’s key allies on Labour’s ruling body has said.

 

Christine Shawcroft, who sits on the party's National Executive Committee and is a senior figure in Momentum, said that soldiers should “get the teabags out” to solve the Syrian crisis rather than resorting to air strikes.

 

She claimed the tactic worked on some far-right English Defence League supporters in the past and added: “Cups of tea might actually be the best kind of system of defence and national security that you could have.”

 

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/politics/labour/12199570/British-soldiers-should-have-cups-of-tea-with-Islamic-State-terrorists-says-Jeremy-Corbyn-ally.html

 

[Hella]

1 ovdašnji histerik je 1 rekao da je bolje da od evrope ne ostane kamen na kamenu nego da mi tu sad ispadamo neki netolerantni i nerazumni

 

nažalost takvima je u britaniji dozvoljeno da rade neke važne poslove umesto da skupljaju iz kontejnera ono što normalni bacaju u njih i onda dolazi do multikulti ukrašavanja dosadnih života ostrvljana

 

Muslim hate preacher ‘was allowed to tour British mosques on jihadi recruitment drive that wooed extremists behind July 7 bombings and 2006 liquid bomb plot’

    Pakistani cleric Masood Azhar delivered extreme messages across the UK
    He was allowed to tour 42 British mosques spreading message of Jihad
    Despite being close to Osama bin Laden Azhar was allowed into UK
    Now emerged he may have sowed seeds of the July 7 London bombings

Among those inspired by Azhar's speeches were Rashid Rauf (left), who directed the 7/7 London bombings which killed 52 and Omar Sheikh, who kidnapped and beheaded US journalist David Pearl in Pakistan

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3523831/Muslim-hate-preacher-allowed-tour-British-mosques.html#ixzz44wA6tWfE

 

[Hella]

odličan vam je ovaj multikulturalizam baš lepo što ga sad ima i u evropi a ne samo po avganistanskim decojebinama

 

Child Brides ‘Tolerated’ In European Asylum Centres

Some child brides are living with older husbands in asylum centres in Scandinavia, triggering a furore about lapses in protection for girls in nations that ban child marriage.

Authorities have in some cases let girls stay with their partners, believing it is less traumatic for them than forced separation after fleeing wars in nations such as Afghanistan or Syria.

 

http://www.breitbart.com/london/2016/04/21/child-brides-sometimes-tolerated-asylum-centres-despite-law/