Longmont’s Village Idiot, Henry McNevin

Colorado is a “purple state”, so the myth goes, and every so often, our local media is forced to cover our state’s rube eccentrics, our “colorful” bootlickers, our Lost Cause Sons of the Confederacy racists and what their idiot views are despite time and demographic shifts rapidly diminishing any political capital any of these jackasses once had. The purple state is a myth, lip-service to slack-jawed bigots choosing to live out in the middle of nowhere playing farmer and pretending they’re the backbone of America as corporate agribusiness reduces their role in the economy to hobbyists spending their days riding a tractor they aren’t even allowed to fix themselves. They’re nothing but bumpkin cosplayers living off government subsidies while complaining about the “inner cities” that generate the revenue that enables them to live their “authentic, real American” lifestyle while they enjoy getting jerked off by district politicians that inflate their voting power due to gerrymandering, working as intended to keep the rest of the country held hostage by these backwards, salt-of-the-earth shitheads waiting around for fracking company to buy out their farm. When the skoal comes around to bite them in the ass with mouth cancer, I’ll dance on their graves and spit in the faces of their widows that didn’t nip their fascist talk radio habit in the bud forty years ago.

Henry McNevin, 84, of Longmont, CO (home to the World’s Largest Stickerball but slowly being taken over by craft breweries) is one such character. McNevin made the news last week in the midst of the Supreme Court confirmation of Brett Kavanaugh, putting a sign in his yard that said the judge had been gang-raped by Democrats, riling up sane members of the town on Nextdoor. This isn’t the first time McNevin has generated controversy, two years ago he put up a grammatically-challenged sign directed towards Muslims before having to take it down after some local heroes allegedly threatened to demonstrate in front of his house and “destroy his property.” Direct action gets the goods, Longmont.

McNevin is a waste of flesh and a hatemonger, spending his twilight years pissing people off through A-Frames because his way of life is essentially pointless in the modern era, his views abhorrent in a time when his neighbors and the rest of us wait out his generation’s death in a hope it isn’t too late to reverse course and move towards social progress. He’s an old troll, throwing out baseless accusations to see his name in the paper in an effort to validate his relevancy, and the media falls for it because we live in a time of sensationalism that uses outrage to generate ad revenue. Hiding behind the shield of the First Amendment, this sad old man’s dying gasps about people he’s likely never met or the fellatio of powerful men that don’t give a rat’s ass about him are more pathetic examples of this country’s worst elements stating things they “can say” when the reality is they probably should keep it to themselves. Googling him yields nothing of substance apart from his signs, likely destined for the garbage dump or a re-purposing for another flash-in-the-pan political sentiment. He will be remembered for nothing but ignorance, racism, and hyperbole.

Unless we act now.

For between $300-$700, the community of Colorado could erect its own sign, with its own baseless accusation that Henry McNevin routinely drugs and forces livestock to have sex with him. I’m frankly tired of seeing the establishment left time and time again take the high road with morons that barely have the common courtesy to get their facts straight. That’s why I’m raising money to fund a billboard in the Denver Metro area in tribute to McNevin’s memory. Please donate today, to pay back Henry for being a shit neighbor that has subjected thousands of people to his trash opinions for years, and to make sure he’s remembered for more than just being a racist and a rape apologist, but also a horse cock connoisseur, a bovine blower, and a pig penetration enthusiast. Let’s let highway commuters everywhere know about Henry’s own assumed predilections, just like he loves to broadcast his views about Islam and Democrats gang-raping Supreme Court Justices.

Henry McNevin of Longmont, Colorado rapes farm animals. Donate Today.

Arvada’s Response to the G-Line Tests Illustrates How Astonishing it is That Anyone Here is Even Able to Put on Pants in the Morning

Without a doubt, and it has been said before, my favorite ax to grind is Colorado’s Regional Transport District. Seemingly resolute in their determination to prove that contracting out what should be a public utility to the lowest bidders actually undermines the lauded efficiencies of capitalism, they almost stand in direct defiance of America’s predominant worldview. It’s a case study as to why certain industries should never be run as a profit-motivated business.

It’s like a satire of a transit agency. Their trains are better vessels to commit suicide with than commute to work in. I’ve met heroin addicts more punctual than the overworked and underpaid operators and the construction and opening of new lines goes about as smoothly as rubbing your cock on a belt sander. It’s trash. It’s for the birds. Their board of directors ought to be flayed to ribbons, smoked and cured, and then turned into birdcage liner. A loosely-affiliated network of Romanian gypsy cab dispatchers could replace them with better results, a higher level of customer satisfaction, and less life-threatening stab wounds.

But in regards to the citizenry of Arvada complaining about the long-awaited, infinitely delayed G-Line testing process, for once I’m going to do the unthinkable and defend the absolute bane of my existence. My unyielding, vicious crusade will briefly take a knee to concentrate on the flank of another front, a group so vile I hate them even more than the tax scam artists at RTD: the people of Arvada, Colorado.

If you’ve never lived or worked in Arvada, let me break it down for you: everyone here is either 91 years-old with completely nothing to do or 12 and-a-half with completely nothing to do. They roll up the sidewalks at about ten at night, making the only people still awake in town cops looking for the seventeen drunk white supremacists driving around after hanging out at a strip-mall dive bar that is named after the shopping center it’s nestled into. There are no jobs outside of short-lived retail stores run by former stay-at-home moms needing a pet project, the corporate service industry (or smaller restaurants barely fighting off their seventh sexual harassment lawsuit), or wiping the shit out of the asses of the generation that ruined this country (but somehow still own every rental property in the metro area not gobbled up by some Air B&B Techbro from Riverside, CA or scummy housing flipper) in the various retirement and nursing homes that dot the post-farming community landscape. Any quaint charm said farming industry might have had is disintegrated by the view of four starving, token horses the property owner keeps alive while he waits for a development company to buy him out and build a new gaudy subdivision with substandard building materials. If you’re a licensed EMT, you can work for one of the 30 private urgent care facilities, where you drive an ambulance around town annoying everybody while you cart out the aged dead at rates unseen since the Black Plague. Continue reading →

AAron Ontiveroz, The Denver Post

Broncos Anger God, Invite Torrential Downpour After Blowing 13 Point Lead

There’s no real reason to get too worked up about losing an NFL preseason game in the fourth quarter with third-string players on the field. Being up 23-10 after three stings a bit, but the first and second squads had good showings early on, key players looked returned to form, and drives came together in a way that was both productive and satisfying to watch. Last week, an increasingly frustrating coaching staff marched into the opening game against the Minnesota Vikings with an… avant-garde game plan, in which the team was clearly experimenting and seeing what could stick to the wall. That’s fine for a preseason game, although I think most fans prefer something a little more structured and goal oriented. Against the Chicago Bears, a team that finished last in their division last year, the Broncos looked pretty lethal at times, with Von Miller on the field longer than most people would probably like and Emmanuel Sanders blossoming new chemistry with 2018’s hired gun QB Case Keenum.

Royce Freeman and CU alum Phillip Lindsay dominated the running game over Broncos veteran Devontae Booker, both clearly deserving spots on the final roster. Jeff Hue-Hue-Hue-Heuerman, a sorely underused tight-end weapon, looked like a bouncer at closing time, fighting for every bit of yardage he could get and scoring on a two-point conversion after a running TD from Freeman early on in the second quarter. First-round draft pick Bradley Chubb forced a safety after a bobbled snap, and Justin Simmons caught an interception to bring in “back up” Chad Kelly, quickly becoming a fan favorite in the preseason for his physicality and clear QB IQ. Everything was looking great. I think everyone knows it’s the Bears, but the Broncos played legitimately good football for basically three and a half quarters. This Kelly to Sutton touchdown near the two-minute warning right before halftime is an absolute thing of beauty:

After last week’s disastrous, downright depressing showing by first-round bust Paxton Lynch, most fans, including myself, were calling for him to be cut from the team or traded to another franchise dumb enough to take a chance on him. Lynch was booed as he took the field and again periodically as he threw 5/11 for 39 yards, most of which were YAC against a third-string defense from one of the worst-performing teams in the league. He’s abysmal, yet had the audacity in the post-game presser to claim that he “wants to be THE quarterback, not the backup.” If anything, tonight cemented my claims last week that Lynch doesn’t even belong in the NFL, much less warming the bench in Denver. Local sporting press is starting to feel bad for him, despite urging the team to “make a move”, and head coach Vance Joseph, traditionally a little bit cagey regarding questions about Lynch, seemed particularly unleashed when commenting on him getting booed at Mile High. Again. Even ex-Bronco RB CJ Anderson admonished fans for booing:

A lot is being made about the Isiah McKenzie fumble, and although I think he’s tested quite a bit of patience after earning a reputation for dropping punt returns last year, that was a bang-bang great defensive play from the Bears and McKenzie did what he could. I really hope his confidence isn’t shaken, because he’s shown a lot of progress from last year and I believe he’s earned a spot on the roster without a question. He looked dejected on the sidelines after that play, in which he was fighting for extra yardage with defenders on his ankles before having the ball punched out of his grasp. There’s no shame there, he’s out to prove himself.

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Local deity, pictured after a Broncos loss.

I was fortunate enough to be commuting into work shortly after the game when the Denver metro area finally let open the monsoon it had been brewing since the late afternoon. Luckily, the lightening that had been persistent for much of the game didn’t delay anything. I’ve been out of town for several of the summer storms, which I’ve cherished in the nearly 15 years I’ve spent here, and this was definitely the hardest, most sustained rain I’d seen all year without any added hail. After a 24-23 loss in the final two minutes, I’m assuming the Gods were absolutely furious at another week of Paxton Lynch provoking an entire region of the United States into more wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Next game: Friday 8/24 at 5:30pm MST @ Washington.

 

Paxton Lynch Sucks

Bronco’s football returned tonight with a preseason game against the Minnesota Vikings and after another lackluster training camp showing and another abysmal preseason game going into his third year, it’s time for John Elway to swallow his pride and cut Paxton Lynch. This evening, he went 6/11 for 24 yards with an interception and was sacked, then completely shown up by Chad Kelly, literally a Last Chance U alumni who spent last year sidelined with a wrist injury and had never played a game in the NFL. With concerns about Case Keenum being injury prone, the back-up job clearly needs to go to a player that doesn’t have the football IQ equivalent of a student repeating the fourth grade twice.

Look at this shit:

He’s 6’8″ and screen passes are swatted down at the line of scrimmage. This is a guy that lost depth chart positioning to Brock Osweiler, a man paid by the Cleveland Browns to not play and Trevor “Skittles” Siemian. The fact that he’s on an NFL roster is astonishing. Zero development or improvement in three years, but John Elway refuses to admit his first-round pick is a bust, which has cost the Broncos two serviceable second-string quarterbacks going to Minnesota. At least Brock, now playing in Miami, had passion for the organization and town. Paxton should be working as a mascot in Tampa Bay or doing Captain Morgan promotional appearances on frat rows. He’s a dullard.

I’m very forgiving. I didn’t mind seeing Trevor start again last year despite his ongoing issues. He had heart and came back from big hits as best he could. The team seemed to get behind him until obvious frustrations from a diminished but still legendary defense became insurmountable. Paxton, which is the male naming equivalent of Makayla, is lazy, listless, and obviously yippy anytime he’s put into a pre-planned QB1 situation.

There’s a question of “dead money” for next year if Elway can fall out of love with this towering mutant pirate, do the right thing, and get rid of him. It might cost a seventh-round pick down the line to sweeten the garbage pot, $600k in cap space this year, and $1.3 million next year, but after watching him booed off the field in Mile High tonight what are the other options? He’s dead weight. Even the most optimistic homer fans waiting for a development breakthrough or hoping for him to stop getting Vietnam flashbacks every time the sub-par defensive line collapses his pocket are reaching the end of their ropes.

It’s been enough chances and without a move by the coaching staff or front office, it’s only a matter of time before people start saying the same thing about Vance Joseph or even John Elway, who just two years ago could’ve gotten Denver International Airport named after him. At a certain point, it’s undeniably an organizational problem.

An Extralegal Execution in Aurora

Very early Monday morning in Aurora, Colorado, 73-year-old Richard “Gary” Black woke up to find a woman on his porch attempting to retrieve her 26-year-old son, who she said was on drugs and not likely in control of his actions. Black raced upstairs, where he found that a nude man, later identified as the 26-year-old Dajon Harper, had dragged his 11-year-old grandson from the living room into a bathroom, where he was strangling and attempting to drown the boy. Black, a Vietnam combat veteran, started to beat the man and reportedly tried to gouge out one of his eyes in an effort to free his grandson to no avail, went and retrieved a handgun, and shot Harper dead.

Black’s wife had been on the phone with 911 and police reported hearing gunshots as they approached the house. Black walked into his living room, where police shot him dead through a window from outside the house. Police reportedly didn’t identify themselves but claimed for “around thirteen seconds” they screamed at Black five times to drop his weapon. The whereabouts of Harper’s mother during the incident are presently unknown. Black reportedly suffered hearing damage from his time in Vietnam, as well as further degradation due to old age, and also likely had very little auditory function after firing a handgun inside of a bathroom. Aurora Chief of Police Nick Metz has blamed Mr. Black’s actions for his death, despite the as-of-yet unnamed police officer being involved in a fatal shooting in June and recently returned to duty.

The same police department that took in Aurora theater shooter James Holmes into custody alive murdered a man defending his family in his own home, from outside the house, who was an entirely different ethnicity and wearing specifically described clothing than the suspect detailed during the emergency phone call. That’s an indictment of incompetence and poor training that underscores the “fearful”, wanton bloodlust of police culture in America, where academies constantly drill a shoot-first-ask-question-later mentality with phrases like “better to be judged by twelve than carried out by six.” Anyone paying attention in the last thirty years knows that phrase is far accurately “better to get several weeks of ‘paid administrative leave’ and no charges.”

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The Highwaymen Are Now Boarding

high·way·man 

/ˈhīˌwāmən/

noun historical

noun: highwayman; plural noun: highwaymen
a man, typically on horseback, who held up travelers at gunpoint in order to rob them.

 

When you get back on a sub-par metropolitan public transit system, especially after a brief respite, there’s sometimes new nuances and customs to learn. I’ve detailed the bad taste in my mouth Colorado’s Regional Transportation District has left after thirteen years of residency and service before, but my most recent return to this town’s buses and trains during arguably the hottest summer this city has ever seen has left me shaking my head in a puzzled, Kafkaesque bewilderment. As the city pushes more and more poor and working class people out, forcing longer commutes, RTD is pushing another fare hike and aggressively pursuing so-called “fare dodgers” on the light rail lines. I don’t know why I even let myself be surprised anymore.

meta-chart

I’ve prepared a graph.

Anecdotally speaking, the vast majority of people I’ve seen ticketed are either underage kids with expired transfers who would be riding on economically negligible fares anyhow, commuters who chanced it instead of missing a train because of slow ticket kiosks and validation processes, and regular, every day people who paid for the “wrong fare.” Armed men, sometimes uniformed security contractors and sometimes plainclothes city police, will board the trains from “random” stops and like hall monitors checking to make sure you’re allowed to be going to the bathroom, pace the aisles checking tickets. If you’re not squared away, they take your identification, take your picture, and put you in a database with a warning. If you’re already in there, you’ll get a ticket for more than $100.

Of course this happened to me.

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Boulder City Council Unanimously Passes Assault Weapon Ban, Verifying How Much Boulder Sucks

Writing about Boulder, Colorado without coming off like an alt-right douchebag is a tall order, doubly so if you’re trying to extrapolate the city’s recent unanimous council vote to ban all high-capacity magazines and so-called “assault weapons”. Really, trying to have a conversation at all about gun bans and private citizen’s access to firearms without sounding like a mouthbreather splitting hairs has become a doozy, thanks to a racist gun lobby that looks morally and ethically compromised as well as the general debating skill-level of your average online firearms enthusiast. I’d hope it goes without saying that listening to a milquetoast Facebook mommy of three with dishwater hair state “I want the boom-boom murder sticks to be put in HOT LAVA” is about as intellectually thrilling as dissecting the finer points of magazine terminology.

Boulder takes about six weeks off of my life for every three hour period I remain within the city limits. The stereotypes are true, South Park is right on the money: it really is a Trustafarian, Birkenstock-wearing NIMBY paradise. It’s both-sides-of-the-mouth liberalism at its finest, highlighted perfectly by its benches preventing the homeless from sleeping and vigilant camping ban while they promote an “entry and transition program”. Boulder is Colorado’s experimental gentrification-condo-hell microcosm, where they find out which new mixed-use developer concept could take root in other surrounding metropolises. Areas of Denver and Fort Collins have taken on eerie Boulder essences, radically changing the character of a variety of neighborhoods to an aesthetic only a sleazy Aspen coke dealer could find appealing. Smoking in public, particularly on Pearl Street, can get you a ticket and if CU is in session, every guy from Ohio that wore a Spiccoli sweatshirt and got into Bob Marley in eighth grade is roaming town trying to put molly in somebody’s drink. Boulder fucking sucks and everybody in Colorado that doesn’t live there or already think of it as some kind of hippie cultural Mecca hates it.

Unsurprisingly, Boulder loves virtue signaling. Maintaining a level of smug self-satisfaction and know-it-all moralism is a bipartisan pastime in this country, and nobody understands that better than Boulder. These are Kucinich voters, ladies and gentleman, but they all live in $1 million homes. Virtue signaling is all the political vitality these people have. That’s an empty tie-dye shirt. What the Boulder City Council accomplished by unanimously passing a blanket firearms ban only hurts their cause, costs taxpayers money, and ultimately usurps the oh-so-sacrosanct democratic process for a brief moment of bullshit political posturing. Continue reading →