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Southern Hospitality and Monumental Obduracy Southern Pride, Burning Greyhounds and Tiki Torches

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The south was so unpropitious toward change, so rooted in sameness, so antipathetic to the thought that the “Negro People” deserve humanity that they simply did not care what the the robed folks in D.C. said. The god fearing racists in the south shrugged their shoulders and went on about polishing the white privilege they protected.

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The Swamp and the Cesspit Greg Gianforte stinks of special interest money

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The effluent aficionados have found their man in Greg Gianforte. Maybe it’s his record of fighting public access that they think will be useful to them? Or, could it be his belief that the peons who must smell the cesspool from beyond the fence should work until they die? Most likely it is because they have found a kindred spirit in the New Jersey native. After all he has proved that he supports the smelly mess by anteing plenty of his own money to protect the flow of dark money and shield the stinkers who dish it out from prying eyes.

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The scent of a Visherman Avoiding phone based phishing scams

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Avoiding phone based phishing scams.

The phone call started with a voice telling me to continue holding. I have trouble imagining a scenario where a valid call would start that way and you should hang up right then if yours does. I will talk in a minute about why a scammer might have the call begin that way. I held for a few seconds for a few reasons. First because these kind of calls pique my prurient tech interest, second because the longer I can keep the scammers on the line the less chance they have to call others.

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Quist is Montana A heartfelt endorsement from a meaningless Montanan

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As I said I don’t know Rob Quist but I feel as though I do. I get the sense that Rob is a guy you could sit down with over cold micro-brews and talk about Montana stuff. A guy who knows that a borrow pit runs along a road and a ditch is a fancy drink. He is the kind of guy who might help you fix your tractor and show up for church with dirt under his nails. I think all that means more to Montanans than any fancy-pants degree or big bank account.

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