That's right, kids. It's that time o'year again already. And the clock's a'tickin'. So get out your strip club singles and pick your squares, because if you can't grift some cash from needless death, what's the use of war profiteering in the first place!?
With an average of 1,000 G.I. deaths per year, why should 2007 be any different? Because if you don't see soldiers as military industrial complex pawns, then you're probably not looking in the right direction.
So rack your brain, get the prognosticating juices flowing, and pick the day ole number 4,000 takes a bullet for folks who don't want us there, and faster than you can justify torture, you'll be swimming in fabulous prizes much the same way wounded vets were stewing in their own feces over there at Walter Reed.
The winner will receive:
-A "Support our troops by putting a 'Support Our Troops' bumper sticker on your soccer mom punk'd out Humvee that in no way really does anything palpable to support our troops other than reveal your own morbid sense of 2nd-hand 3rd-rate patriotism to other motor vehicle operators" bumper sticker
-Freedom ("management" reserves the right to [re]define "freedom" as it sees fit at any time for any reason without notice, always)
-A terror-free week on our own shores (date TBD, BYOB)
-The knowledge that your vote in 2004 was in no small way complicit in his/her death
-Chronic disenfranchisement, again
-A Johnson & Johnson patented navel lint remover
-Nationally mandated guilt
-An authentic FOX News "We Report. You decide. Nobody cares." bumper sticker
-A Nancy Grace action figure that vomits up facts before checking them against actual facts before even family members have been informed of something that may or may not have happened to loved ones
-Scented bath salts
-Even more freedom (such that it is, when convenient, time permitting, some restrictions may apply)
-A "We went all the way to Iraq to liberate something/someone and all we got was this stupid civil war" coffee mug
-An "I [heart] KBR" lapel pin
-A "Here's their blood. Now where's our oil?" refrigerator magnet
-Personalized phone tap transcripts
-A "Bombs Over Bagdad" ring tone
-A some expense-paid trip to the 4,000th dead American G.I.'s funeral, where you will witness first-hand democracy on the run--er, march
-A commemorative 9/11 pewter hand-washing basin
-A "4,000 kids died in the desert on a lie and all I got was this T-shirt that says 'Spreading Democracy Rules!!!'" T-shirt
-A reelected president who's technically retarded (I have the test scores)
-A "My great-great-great-granddaughter will be an honor student at Dubya Junior High -- she's also going to pay for this war, in every sense" bumper sticker
-A clue
That's right, folks. The 4,000th dead G.I., whether he or she be Army, Navy, Air Force, or Marine, is right around the corner (probably around the corner of that building that just exploded). So don't miss out on an opportunity to profit from it. Your favorite corporations sure haven't, so why shouldn't you?
But if you really want to support our troops, then enlist, you faggots. Why should my nephews have to fight for your freedom to download porn off The Internets? I suspect that if every one of you Bush supporters were drafted, the war would be over in a week. Who knows? Maybe you could be number 5,000. It's worth a look. Or are you unfit for duty, having, like Larry Craig, Ted Haggard and Mark Foley, suffered from a blow to the head?
And if you can guess what town he or she is from, we'll fly you there where you can explain to his or her family that unless more men and women are sent to die alone in the desert for freedom (or is it for democracy), then his or her death would be rendered meaningless. Good luck!
You don't want a blog like this. You need a blog like this.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Larry Craig Is Not Gay
Please refrain from your leaps of illogic, ill-informed American public. I mean, honestly, just because Larry's had one in his mouth doesn't mean he's had his shit packed. But unless you realize that playing footsies in the airport john constitutes nothing more than a case of nervous leg disorder, he'll never get it in the end.
Just because the writing's on the wall, or, in this particular case, the stall, doesn't mean he's playing Hide The Tube Steak every Friday at the Don't Ask Don't Tell Motor Lodge off route 19. (Hourly rates available. Discretion Advised. Free lube.)
He may or may not be a liar. He may or may not be forthright. He even may or may not have given Richard Simmons a handjob between red eyes to the coast and back. But one thing we can be relatively certain about is that Larry Craig is not gay.
He's very not attractive
This one should be obvious, kids. Gay men of the homosexual persuasion are almost to a man attractive. I mean, look at Tom Cruise!?
He dresses poorly
Uh-oh. Looks like ole Larry's feeling the fallout since Details magazine padlocked the doors. I've seen better dressers at an IT convention.
He's an idiot
Gays are many things. And stupid just ain't one of them. Take a number, Betty.
Idaho disallows the illegal immigration of homosexuality across its borders
Ouch! Learned that one the hard way, literally.
Cher is just another aging pop star to him
Larry's version of "If I Could Turn Back Time" that he performs every Thursday during karaoke night at The Shaft Club's drag queen review almost always flops, and he totally stole his choreography to "Life After Love" from Bette Midler, not Madonna. Ever heard of a hobby, you assholes?
HIs wife decorated their home
All Larry did was look at hundreds of Ralph Lauren paint chips and thousands of Martha Stewart cloth swatches just to "get her going in the right direction", more or less.
The emergency room cucumber removal thing was totally accidental, all 7 times
Everybody, and I do mean everybody knows that holding a cucumber up your ass strengthens the sphincter and prevents rectal cancer. Are you people retarded?
He's married
But duh! Listen up: gay dudes don't get married. They just don't. Even if they're in the closet, trying on the wife's Manolos or seeing if grandma's wedding dress still fits. Case closed.
So, to sum up: Larry Craig isn't gay because of bad genes, bad jeans, inattentive shopping schedules, illegal alienations, gypsies tramps & thieves, exposed brick being so 80s, a whole new meaning to the phrase "salad shooter", and "a marriage of convenience" or "a carriage of man-venience".
[sigh] I'll just be over here talking to myself some more.
Just because the writing's on the wall, or, in this particular case, the stall, doesn't mean he's playing Hide The Tube Steak every Friday at the Don't Ask Don't Tell Motor Lodge off route 19. (Hourly rates available. Discretion Advised. Free lube.)
He may or may not be a liar. He may or may not be forthright. He even may or may not have given Richard Simmons a handjob between red eyes to the coast and back. But one thing we can be relatively certain about is that Larry Craig is not gay.
He's very not attractive
This one should be obvious, kids. Gay men of the homosexual persuasion are almost to a man attractive. I mean, look at Tom Cruise!?
He dresses poorly
Uh-oh. Looks like ole Larry's feeling the fallout since Details magazine padlocked the doors. I've seen better dressers at an IT convention.
He's an idiot
Gays are many things. And stupid just ain't one of them. Take a number, Betty.
Idaho disallows the illegal immigration of homosexuality across its borders
Ouch! Learned that one the hard way, literally.
Cher is just another aging pop star to him
Larry's version of "If I Could Turn Back Time" that he performs every Thursday during karaoke night at The Shaft Club's drag queen review almost always flops, and he totally stole his choreography to "Life After Love" from Bette Midler, not Madonna. Ever heard of a hobby, you assholes?
HIs wife decorated their home
All Larry did was look at hundreds of Ralph Lauren paint chips and thousands of Martha Stewart cloth swatches just to "get her going in the right direction", more or less.
The emergency room cucumber removal thing was totally accidental, all 7 times
Everybody, and I do mean everybody knows that holding a cucumber up your ass strengthens the sphincter and prevents rectal cancer. Are you people retarded?
He's married
But duh! Listen up: gay dudes don't get married. They just don't. Even if they're in the closet, trying on the wife's Manolos or seeing if grandma's wedding dress still fits. Case closed.
So, to sum up: Larry Craig isn't gay because of bad genes, bad jeans, inattentive shopping schedules, illegal alienations, gypsies tramps & thieves, exposed brick being so 80s, a whole new meaning to the phrase "salad shooter", and "a marriage of convenience" or "a carriage of man-venience".
[sigh] I'll just be over here talking to myself some more.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Israel: Pragmatism and Marketing
Israel isn't a nation. It's a state of mind. Israel is one of the few countries in history to put forward an image of almost exactly how she would have the world see her, and do it the least unsuccessfully for the non-shortest period of time. (2nd place goes to Rome circa 21 B.C.-15 A.D.)
I wonder why the Darfur refugees aren't clamoring to get into, say, Palestine, or Jordan. I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that Israel is the least scarily insane country in the region by half. And it's not like Zion is passing those psychological Rorschach tests with flying colors, especially here of late.
My point is that by virtue of the severity of The Holocaust, the European persuasion of most the persecuted Jews (i.e., well educated, civilized, a need for cultural and social diversions that allow us to participate in the divine, non-brown skin, good with money/vaudville, and a natural aptitude for producing blockbuster hits at the box office), and a nationalistic pride of self-determination that's injected into its citizenry in the womb practically at conception, it's not exactly a secret that Israel probably isn't going to have much trouble putting together a pretty popular and compelling ad campaign when it comes to defending its fickle attitude with regard to decency and morality.
I.e., your entire extended family having been baked in an oven in Poland mixed with an almost innate ability to "tell a story" has a pretty long-lived political shelf life, turns out. And it'll play just as well in Peoria as it will in Rwanda.
So, again: Why are they not breaking down the border fences of Lebanon or Syria? And why aren't Syria and Lebanon held to the same standards when it comes to political hypocrisy and moral duplicitousness?
Because Neither Palestine, Syria nor Lebanon have the testicular fortitude to back up their less-than-higher-road activities with some actual positive and ultimately end-justifies-the-means progress. (See Munich.)
I.e., Why is Israel always cast as the bad guy when it's 9 times out of 10 Israel conceding something, whether it be political capital, land, or the well-wishes of its opportunistic allies? (Hi, Washington, D.C.!)
Me? I'd like to unburden myself from the tyrannical region of America and flee to New Zealand. The problem is, New Zealand's immigration policy is stricter than Israel's in that you may only emigrate there if you can perform a useful function no native Kiwi can. But since I can hum our national anthem out of tune modulating no fewer than 11 times and still end up in the same key I started in, all while balancing on top of a basketball, I think I'm good to go, literally.
Action-Oriented Morality
I wonder why the Darfur refugees aren't clamoring to get into, say, Palestine, or Jordan. I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that Israel is the least scarily insane country in the region by half. And it's not like Zion is passing those psychological Rorschach tests with flying colors, especially here of late.
My point is that by virtue of the severity of The Holocaust, the European persuasion of most the persecuted Jews (i.e., well educated, civilized, a need for cultural and social diversions that allow us to participate in the divine, non-brown skin, good with money/vaudville, and a natural aptitude for producing blockbuster hits at the box office), and a nationalistic pride of self-determination that's injected into its citizenry in the womb practically at conception, it's not exactly a secret that Israel probably isn't going to have much trouble putting together a pretty popular and compelling ad campaign when it comes to defending its fickle attitude with regard to decency and morality.
I.e., your entire extended family having been baked in an oven in Poland mixed with an almost innate ability to "tell a story" has a pretty long-lived political shelf life, turns out. And it'll play just as well in Peoria as it will in Rwanda.
So, again: Why are they not breaking down the border fences of Lebanon or Syria? And why aren't Syria and Lebanon held to the same standards when it comes to political hypocrisy and moral duplicitousness?
Because Neither Palestine, Syria nor Lebanon have the testicular fortitude to back up their less-than-higher-road activities with some actual positive and ultimately end-justifies-the-means progress. (See Munich.)
I.e., Why is Israel always cast as the bad guy when it's 9 times out of 10 Israel conceding something, whether it be political capital, land, or the well-wishes of its opportunistic allies? (Hi, Washington, D.C.!)
Me? I'd like to unburden myself from the tyrannical region of America and flee to New Zealand. The problem is, New Zealand's immigration policy is stricter than Israel's in that you may only emigrate there if you can perform a useful function no native Kiwi can. But since I can hum our national anthem out of tune modulating no fewer than 11 times and still end up in the same key I started in, all while balancing on top of a basketball, I think I'm good to go, literally.
Action-Oriented Morality
Friday, August 24, 2007
Raw Iraq War Report Footage Leaked
MISSION ACCOMPLICED
Secret Unedited Video Reveals Vast Centrist Conspiracy Afoot
Transcript Reads Like Robert Ludlum Thriller
Whoa! You won't see this on youtube. Forget your "Porn At The Pentagon" scandals. This one's got "obfuscation" written all over it in about 17 languages, including Farsi, and that South American one with all the throat and tongue click-popping. Many G.I.s are dying for this information. Proceed at your own risk.
"My Fellow Americans,
My name is Colonel David Patraeus.
[off camera] You're a general, sir.
That's what I said.
Anyways, the rumors are true: The surge is working, sort of. With the addition of 75,000 troops at the front line of the war on terror and an additional 35,000 troops functioning as a logistical support team behind enemy lines, the tide has turned.
[off camera] It was 20,000 and 10,000 respectively, respectably, sir.
Uhh, shut up. That's not the point.
We have control of the northern regions. [rattattattattat... rattattattattat...ttattat... rattattat]
The Turkishmen have subdued the rioting in the south. [rattattat... ttattattat... ttattat]
The western regions are all but back to their pre-war status, just without water, electricity, a sewage system, a Denny's [rattattat... ttattat], breathable air, dry cleaning, unbroken windows, non-looting based civilian activities [rattattattattattattattattat], unexploded cars not on fire, mosques, a Sizzler, or autocratic leanings. Other than that, out west they're partying like it's 1999 all over again. [rattattat... ttattat... rattattattattat]
Okay, somebody shoot the dude over there strafing us with a machine gun. We're rolling tape over here and all that gunfire we're taking is distracting.
Right. We've surrounded the pockets of insurgencies up and down the Euphrates, moving slowly village by village [ttattattat... ttattat... rattattat]
Yeah, I mean it, guys. Ice him before I drop a rocket propelled grenade down your skivvies.
I'm speaking to you from the very heart of the worldwide war against terrorism -- The Green Zone, which actually isn't green. It's mostly sand-colored with desert camo accents. Hey Steve? Rick? Find out why it's called The Green Zone, and for godsakes let's get some green stuff in here A-S-A-frickin'-P. Oh, there, look. The roof on the new KFC is green.
Ahem. When Saddam Hussein drove those 3 airplanes into the Sears Towers almost 6 years ago, he sent the world a clear message: Bill Clinton blew up those buildings with explosives and Nancy Pelosi helped. Well, our commander guy and his entourage have been sending a little message of their own back to the world since March of 2003.
[off camera] Uhh... They don't know what they're doing? Is that the message?
Okay, Les, shut the fuck up. You're destroying my rhythm with all your chop-busting and I can't concentrate on my motivation. This isn't exactly "smell the fart" acting, you dumbass. Roll back the teleprompter. Good. Let's pick it up there.
Ahem. We've made progress. Things are different than they were in March of 2003.
[off camera] You mean like the fact that there isn't any oil being pumped any more so there aren't any oil revenues to pay for this war?
No, brainiac. Saddam's been toppled and bin Laden's on the run.
[kaBLOOOOEY!!!]
Okay, what in h-e-double hockey sticks was that?
[off camera] Sorry, sir. Someone just blew up the Dairy Queen again. Looks like it's another night without Peanut Buster Parfets.
Those Dilly Bars are really good, too. I hate Klondikes, but the taffy ones are delicious.
Oh, great. Which one of you chuckleheads wants to tell me just precisely how the fuck long my little flag lapel pin thingie has been upside down? Les?
[off camera] You can't really see it. I'm framing you from the mid-shouler up. The CIA couldn't see it.
Well, excuse me if I don't take any comfort from that, seeing as how the CIA couldn't find Florida on a map of Florida.
[off camera] So do we need to reshoot the "Strolling From Downtown Freedomville To Safetyland Via Not-Out-Control-Anarchy Lane" scene?
No, I think the smoke from all the burning buildings will cover it up, if not at least distract the viewer from an upside down flag lapel pin on a colonel--
[off camera] General.
That's what I said.
Ahem. Saddam's on the run--
[off camera] He's dead, sir.
[awkward silence]
Les? May I?
[off camera] Sorry.
And Obama's probably dead already.
[off camera] Osama, sir.
But the prompter says "Obama". Who's Obama?
[off camera] Barack Obama? He's the appropriately light-skinned Magic Negro running for president against that lesbian lady.
Is he the guy that said we should invade Pakistan if we think they're harboring al Qaeda members? Yeah, I really like him. He seems to have this knack of cutting through all the bullshit about why we're here and why maybe we shouldn't be.
[kaBLAMMMMMMMO!!!]
Oh shit, there goes the bowling alley. Somebody call Zimm and tell him league night's off.
[off camera] Well, the Delta Force Players are doing Twelfth Night at The Jarhead Dinner Theater later.
Excellent. Gilmore Girls is a repeat anyway.
[off camera] I hate that show. Too much talking.
That's because you're gay.
[off camera] Don't ask, don't tell, sir.
Whatever. Let's get out of here. Too dicey. We'll hit The Mall Of Democracy to get some exteriors, then do the "10 Bucks For A Bag Of Trash" scene in front of the Sunglass Hut.
[off camera] "10 Bucks For" what, sir?
"10 Bucks For A Bag Of Trash"? That program we instituted in Kirkuk? Any villager who gathers a trash bag of garbage gets 10 bucks, pumping some much needed cash into the local economy. Like the surge, it's working. And I find it highly irregular to conjecture that the locals would abuse the program by manufacturing trash overnight to pick up in the morning for a 10 spot. Not gonna happen. Mark my words.
[off camera] Marked, sir. But where are we shooting the "Soldier Testimonials" scene?
At the Sonic. Coney night. And it really needs to look exactly like those montages when someone gets booted off So You Think You Can Dance.
[off camera] I love that show.
That's because you're gay.
[off camera] Hooyah!
Huh?
[kaPLOOOOOOOW!!!]"
To be continued.
Secret Unedited Video Reveals Vast Centrist Conspiracy Afoot
Transcript Reads Like Robert Ludlum Thriller
Whoa! You won't see this on youtube. Forget your "Porn At The Pentagon" scandals. This one's got "obfuscation" written all over it in about 17 languages, including Farsi, and that South American one with all the throat and tongue click-popping. Many G.I.s are dying for this information. Proceed at your own risk.
"My Fellow Americans,
My name is Colonel David Patraeus.
[off camera] You're a general, sir.
That's what I said.
Anyways, the rumors are true: The surge is working, sort of. With the addition of 75,000 troops at the front line of the war on terror and an additional 35,000 troops functioning as a logistical support team behind enemy lines, the tide has turned.
[off camera] It was 20,000 and 10,000 respectively, respectably, sir.
Uhh, shut up. That's not the point.
We have control of the northern regions. [rattattattattat... rattattattattat...ttattat... rattattat]
The Turkishmen have subdued the rioting in the south. [rattattat... ttattattat... ttattat]
The western regions are all but back to their pre-war status, just without water, electricity, a sewage system, a Denny's [rattattat... ttattat], breathable air, dry cleaning, unbroken windows, non-looting based civilian activities [rattattattattattattattattat], unexploded cars not on fire, mosques, a Sizzler, or autocratic leanings. Other than that, out west they're partying like it's 1999 all over again. [rattattat... ttattat... rattattattattat]
Okay, somebody shoot the dude over there strafing us with a machine gun. We're rolling tape over here and all that gunfire we're taking is distracting.
Right. We've surrounded the pockets of insurgencies up and down the Euphrates, moving slowly village by village [ttattattat... ttattat... rattattat]
Yeah, I mean it, guys. Ice him before I drop a rocket propelled grenade down your skivvies.
I'm speaking to you from the very heart of the worldwide war against terrorism -- The Green Zone, which actually isn't green. It's mostly sand-colored with desert camo accents. Hey Steve? Rick? Find out why it's called The Green Zone, and for godsakes let's get some green stuff in here A-S-A-frickin'-P. Oh, there, look. The roof on the new KFC is green.
Ahem. When Saddam Hussein drove those 3 airplanes into the Sears Towers almost 6 years ago, he sent the world a clear message: Bill Clinton blew up those buildings with explosives and Nancy Pelosi helped. Well, our commander guy and his entourage have been sending a little message of their own back to the world since March of 2003.
[off camera] Uhh... They don't know what they're doing? Is that the message?
Okay, Les, shut the fuck up. You're destroying my rhythm with all your chop-busting and I can't concentrate on my motivation. This isn't exactly "smell the fart" acting, you dumbass. Roll back the teleprompter. Good. Let's pick it up there.
Ahem. We've made progress. Things are different than they were in March of 2003.
[off camera] You mean like the fact that there isn't any oil being pumped any more so there aren't any oil revenues to pay for this war?
No, brainiac. Saddam's been toppled and bin Laden's on the run.
[kaBLOOOOEY!!!]
Okay, what in h-e-double hockey sticks was that?
[off camera] Sorry, sir. Someone just blew up the Dairy Queen again. Looks like it's another night without Peanut Buster Parfets.
Those Dilly Bars are really good, too. I hate Klondikes, but the taffy ones are delicious.
Oh, great. Which one of you chuckleheads wants to tell me just precisely how the fuck long my little flag lapel pin thingie has been upside down? Les?
[off camera] You can't really see it. I'm framing you from the mid-shouler up. The CIA couldn't see it.
Well, excuse me if I don't take any comfort from that, seeing as how the CIA couldn't find Florida on a map of Florida.
[off camera] So do we need to reshoot the "Strolling From Downtown Freedomville To Safetyland Via Not-Out-Control-Anarchy Lane" scene?
No, I think the smoke from all the burning buildings will cover it up, if not at least distract the viewer from an upside down flag lapel pin on a colonel--
[off camera] General.
That's what I said.
Ahem. Saddam's on the run--
[off camera] He's dead, sir.
[awkward silence]
Les? May I?
[off camera] Sorry.
And Obama's probably dead already.
[off camera] Osama, sir.
But the prompter says "Obama". Who's Obama?
[off camera] Barack Obama? He's the appropriately light-skinned Magic Negro running for president against that lesbian lady.
Is he the guy that said we should invade Pakistan if we think they're harboring al Qaeda members? Yeah, I really like him. He seems to have this knack of cutting through all the bullshit about why we're here and why maybe we shouldn't be.
[kaBLAMMMMMMMO!!!]
Oh shit, there goes the bowling alley. Somebody call Zimm and tell him league night's off.
[off camera] Well, the Delta Force Players are doing Twelfth Night at The Jarhead Dinner Theater later.
Excellent. Gilmore Girls is a repeat anyway.
[off camera] I hate that show. Too much talking.
That's because you're gay.
[off camera] Don't ask, don't tell, sir.
Whatever. Let's get out of here. Too dicey. We'll hit The Mall Of Democracy to get some exteriors, then do the "10 Bucks For A Bag Of Trash" scene in front of the Sunglass Hut.
[off camera] "10 Bucks For" what, sir?
"10 Bucks For A Bag Of Trash"? That program we instituted in Kirkuk? Any villager who gathers a trash bag of garbage gets 10 bucks, pumping some much needed cash into the local economy. Like the surge, it's working. And I find it highly irregular to conjecture that the locals would abuse the program by manufacturing trash overnight to pick up in the morning for a 10 spot. Not gonna happen. Mark my words.
[off camera] Marked, sir. But where are we shooting the "Soldier Testimonials" scene?
At the Sonic. Coney night. And it really needs to look exactly like those montages when someone gets booted off So You Think You Can Dance.
[off camera] I love that show.
That's because you're gay.
[off camera] Hooyah!
Huh?
[kaPLOOOOOOOW!!!]"
To be continued.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Then There's All That
There's a certain freedom to posting on a blog, as opposed to, say, BotF, that seems to be rooted in the knowledge that here I'll only be read by about 4 people (high estimate?) whereas on the fray I'll be read by, say, 11 people. It means I'm free to hit grounders down the line as opposed to swinging for the fences every time.
Still, I miss the attention.
Gradually catching up with Big Brother 8. Danielle is utterly captivating. This season reminds me of Deadwood, were Deadwood staged in a house no one can leave in SoCal and all the characters are not armed (that we know of) and the bad words get bleeped. And people bathe somewhat regularly. Other than that, factoring in all the alcohol, the 2 shows are practically mirror images of one another, were the mirror one of those funhouse mirrors, and the room is dimly lit.
But, yeah, Danielle.
It's really nice to see twiff's and bacon's babies. It makes me happy. I suspect I'll never get married or have children, which is just as well because they're so expensive and needy, and I'm poor and selfish. Me and childlessness will continue to be a good fit.
I've not been lonely very often, and I'm not now. I've almost always preferred my own company to that of others, with a few major exceptions. What I am is indescribably frustrated and discouraged by the-one-that-got-away's disingenuousness and obtuseness. She works now only three days a week in B'ham, invites me over to her hotel room to get high, then proceeds to browbeat me about my drinking. "You know, I'm not going to sit around and watch you drink too much. It's not fair to you or to me. It's really unhealthy. Now finish this bowl I've loaded for you after you've passed me that carton of cigarettes, ASAP." Yeah, that makes sense. Thanks for holding me to higher standards than you hold anyone else to and then not really ever treating me concordantly when I meet those standards.
Say, you two: Remember the privacy fence, that glorious 9-foot wall of empowerment I built last fall? Remember that one poor dog I felt bad for? Well, one of my other neighbors, a truly excellent neighbor who had a 6-foot fence built to block out the ignorant retards, who was trying to socialize that awful dog because she, like me, loves dogs and, unlike me, is a saint, she finally broke down and called animal control because that dog wouldn't get socialized and found a way to get back into her yard and my other great neighbor's yard and bark at them for being in their own yards. Animal control picked it up last night. I expect some sort of dust up.
Which reminds me: I should probably finish my "Michael Vick, Some Final Thoughts" post for BotF. Or not for them. Don't know.
Yep: Worm-burner down the 3rd base line, runner advances. Not bad. Doesn't mean I won't occasionally lean back and turn the hips on a hanging corn-cutter (Iowan for curve ball) out over the plate. I mean, it's me, right?
Still, I miss the attention.
Gradually catching up with Big Brother 8. Danielle is utterly captivating. This season reminds me of Deadwood, were Deadwood staged in a house no one can leave in SoCal and all the characters are not armed (that we know of) and the bad words get bleeped. And people bathe somewhat regularly. Other than that, factoring in all the alcohol, the 2 shows are practically mirror images of one another, were the mirror one of those funhouse mirrors, and the room is dimly lit.
But, yeah, Danielle.
It's really nice to see twiff's and bacon's babies. It makes me happy. I suspect I'll never get married or have children, which is just as well because they're so expensive and needy, and I'm poor and selfish. Me and childlessness will continue to be a good fit.
I've not been lonely very often, and I'm not now. I've almost always preferred my own company to that of others, with a few major exceptions. What I am is indescribably frustrated and discouraged by the-one-that-got-away's disingenuousness and obtuseness. She works now only three days a week in B'ham, invites me over to her hotel room to get high, then proceeds to browbeat me about my drinking. "You know, I'm not going to sit around and watch you drink too much. It's not fair to you or to me. It's really unhealthy. Now finish this bowl I've loaded for you after you've passed me that carton of cigarettes, ASAP." Yeah, that makes sense. Thanks for holding me to higher standards than you hold anyone else to and then not really ever treating me concordantly when I meet those standards.
Say, you two: Remember the privacy fence, that glorious 9-foot wall of empowerment I built last fall? Remember that one poor dog I felt bad for? Well, one of my other neighbors, a truly excellent neighbor who had a 6-foot fence built to block out the ignorant retards, who was trying to socialize that awful dog because she, like me, loves dogs and, unlike me, is a saint, she finally broke down and called animal control because that dog wouldn't get socialized and found a way to get back into her yard and my other great neighbor's yard and bark at them for being in their own yards. Animal control picked it up last night. I expect some sort of dust up.
Which reminds me: I should probably finish my "Michael Vick, Some Final Thoughts" post for BotF. Or not for them. Don't know.
Yep: Worm-burner down the 3rd base line, runner advances. Not bad. Doesn't mean I won't occasionally lean back and turn the hips on a hanging corn-cutter (Iowan for curve ball) out over the plate. I mean, it's me, right?
Monday, August 20, 2007
Transformer, A Movie Review
Out just in time for this summer’s annual Heat Wave And Humidity Festival in the deep south, Transformer asks the very question I’ve had stumbling around in the ole hat rack 3 years ago, namely, What happens when you’re trying to fix your own indoor furnace/AC unit by buying a transformer at the wholesale HVAC place, and you inadvertently wire the thing backwards?
Answer: It smokes for about 3 seconds, and then the central air completely and utterly stops working. And the house heats up to about 135 degrees in the span of 2 hours. You might as well be sitting in a hot tub in some South American jungle. With no water in it, even.
Set in the lush foothills of the Appalachian Mountains in beautiful cinematography-friendly Birmingham, Alabama, our hero is confused as to why his unit keeps blowing the little 5 amp fuse thingie.
He never finds out, of course. But when he finally has to break down and call a professional, the professional, seeing the backwards wiring, asks our hero if he wants to know exactly what it was that he did wrong.
Our hero declines, disgusted with himself.
And just like that, 10 minutes of work and 200 dollars later, our hero’s abode cools all the way back down to 91 degrees in the mere span of 16 hours. Thanks, deep south in July/Augus!
The end.
Answer: It smokes for about 3 seconds, and then the central air completely and utterly stops working. And the house heats up to about 135 degrees in the span of 2 hours. You might as well be sitting in a hot tub in some South American jungle. With no water in it, even.
Set in the lush foothills of the Appalachian Mountains in beautiful cinematography-friendly Birmingham, Alabama, our hero is confused as to why his unit keeps blowing the little 5 amp fuse thingie.
He never finds out, of course. But when he finally has to break down and call a professional, the professional, seeing the backwards wiring, asks our hero if he wants to know exactly what it was that he did wrong.
Our hero declines, disgusted with himself.
And just like that, 10 minutes of work and 200 dollars later, our hero’s abode cools all the way back down to 91 degrees in the mere span of 16 hours. Thanks, deep south in July/Augus!
The end.
Friday, August 17, 2007
We're Having A Heat Wave, A Tropical Heat Wave
The temperature's rising
It isn't surprising
She certainly can can-can
Today officially marks the end of 9 (or was it 10?) consecutive days of triple-digit temperatures in Birmingham. We also happen to be in the midst of the worst drought in recorded history (or is it "recorder history"?). The annual rainfall is over 2 feet shy of where it's supposed to be this time of year, and it looks like it's going to stretch through the fall and winter.
But this post isn't about global warming; it's about something else entirely; it's just that I'm not sure what it's about yet.
But that's a whole 'nother post.
Tomatoes aren't particularly thirsty plants, requiring a mere 1 inch of rain per week. And they really thrive in humidity. But they don't seem to thrive in 103 degree weather for a week and a half. And I've had to water them, and 14 rose plants, illegally 13 times now.
The combined heat and humidity created heat indices above 110 degrees. A guy in Mobile died when he got drunk one morning and passed out in his car, the interior of which rose to 150 degrees. (Note to self: I've got and excellent idea on how to defrost a roast in pretty short order on the cheap. $$$!!!)
I actually caught on fire Sunday when I was weeding the beds, but I think that had less to do with the heat and more to do with trying to light a cigarette with a magnifying glass.
The Birmingham Water Works Board very early in the summer declared massive reductions in the reservoir levels from where we get our water. Then they threatened folks with surcharges if citizens' water usage exceeded a certain number of gallons, doubling one's utility bill for all intents and purposes.
They threaten fines and jail time for those watering illegally. Meanwhile my neighbors who are selling their house have practically set up a hydroponic water village theme park in the front yard, with 2 sprinklers going all out at high noon. It's like my last suggestion card for my gym: "Hey. Why don't you, in addition to having rules governing the use of the indoor pool, enforce said rules. Thanks!"
Then it was revealed that The Birmingham Water Works cannot account for 26% of the water it produces, a percentage significantly above that of the national "standard". I.e., the Water Works wastes over a quarter of all the water that runs out of there.
So instead of finding out where the "leak" is and plugging it, they make us pay them to lose water. They ask us to conserve water while they might as well be letting all the Southside fire hydrants spew full blast all weekend every weekend. They've got a toilet running over in accounting and I'm squatting in front of a camellia bush that looks so bad I'm waiting for I Am Who Am to start yammering on and out about 10 rules of thumb that may or may not come in handy down the road, and my Japanese Maple makes Nagasaki circa '45 seem like a fireworks display. (Or was it?)
The real beauty of it is that 1.) they've known about the "leak" for years and have done nothing about it; 2.) we've had droughts before and they've not put in place preventative measures for future relief; and 3.) i.e., they've not learned from their mistakes. I'm beginning to wonder if they're running the war effort, and it's actually not a jukebox tuned in to a discarded Chinese satellite aimlessly circling Neptune calling the shots. Or by an insane retard.
I suppose it's simply yet another case of the preferred method of bureaucratic management philosophy: We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, but we won't because it'll collapse before we get to the other side--[ka-FWOOOOSH!!!]
Listen: If I'm going to pay my city utilities to fuck me up the ass with a strap-on, I'd damn sure better have some weird masochistic sex fetish, because otherwise I just don't think I'd be getting my money's worth. And I won't even mention the fact that it's not the most efficient use of my personal finances. Or of my asshole, for that matter.
It isn't surprising
She certainly can can-can
Today officially marks the end of 9 (or was it 10?) consecutive days of triple-digit temperatures in Birmingham. We also happen to be in the midst of the worst drought in recorded history (or is it "recorder history"?). The annual rainfall is over 2 feet shy of where it's supposed to be this time of year, and it looks like it's going to stretch through the fall and winter.
But this post isn't about global warming; it's about something else entirely; it's just that I'm not sure what it's about yet.
But that's a whole 'nother post.
Tomatoes aren't particularly thirsty plants, requiring a mere 1 inch of rain per week. And they really thrive in humidity. But they don't seem to thrive in 103 degree weather for a week and a half. And I've had to water them, and 14 rose plants, illegally 13 times now.
The combined heat and humidity created heat indices above 110 degrees. A guy in Mobile died when he got drunk one morning and passed out in his car, the interior of which rose to 150 degrees. (Note to self: I've got and excellent idea on how to defrost a roast in pretty short order on the cheap. $$$!!!)
I actually caught on fire Sunday when I was weeding the beds, but I think that had less to do with the heat and more to do with trying to light a cigarette with a magnifying glass.
The Birmingham Water Works Board very early in the summer declared massive reductions in the reservoir levels from where we get our water. Then they threatened folks with surcharges if citizens' water usage exceeded a certain number of gallons, doubling one's utility bill for all intents and purposes.
They threaten fines and jail time for those watering illegally. Meanwhile my neighbors who are selling their house have practically set up a hydroponic water village theme park in the front yard, with 2 sprinklers going all out at high noon. It's like my last suggestion card for my gym: "Hey. Why don't you, in addition to having rules governing the use of the indoor pool, enforce said rules. Thanks!"
Then it was revealed that The Birmingham Water Works cannot account for 26% of the water it produces, a percentage significantly above that of the national "standard". I.e., the Water Works wastes over a quarter of all the water that runs out of there.
So instead of finding out where the "leak" is and plugging it, they make us pay them to lose water. They ask us to conserve water while they might as well be letting all the Southside fire hydrants spew full blast all weekend every weekend. They've got a toilet running over in accounting and I'm squatting in front of a camellia bush that looks so bad I'm waiting for I Am Who Am to start yammering on and out about 10 rules of thumb that may or may not come in handy down the road, and my Japanese Maple makes Nagasaki circa '45 seem like a fireworks display. (Or was it?)
The real beauty of it is that 1.) they've known about the "leak" for years and have done nothing about it; 2.) we've had droughts before and they've not put in place preventative measures for future relief; and 3.) i.e., they've not learned from their mistakes. I'm beginning to wonder if they're running the war effort, and it's actually not a jukebox tuned in to a discarded Chinese satellite aimlessly circling Neptune calling the shots. Or by an insane retard.
I suppose it's simply yet another case of the preferred method of bureaucratic management philosophy: We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, but we won't because it'll collapse before we get to the other side--[ka-FWOOOOSH!!!]
Listen: If I'm going to pay my city utilities to fuck me up the ass with a strap-on, I'd damn sure better have some weird masochistic sex fetish, because otherwise I just don't think I'd be getting my money's worth. And I won't even mention the fact that it's not the most efficient use of my personal finances. Or of my asshole, for that matter.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Iraq Study Group Minutes Leaked
[Cut me some slack; I thought this baby deserved a new home because, and let's be perfectly honest here, I don't trust the new fray's stewardship of the old fray. So be on the lookout for reruns.]
A Brief Glimpse Inside A Think Tank
Secret Notes Prove Diplomacy Alive And Well In Fantasy Land
Talk about a Hot Document. Man. I just hope nobody's preggers! Caution: Many Bothans died for this information. Proceed at your own risk.
"September 20, 2006
8:45 AM – 8:52 AM, Discuss whether or not Iraq is a country
8:53 AM – 9:08 AM, Conclude that it is, and that it's somewhere in the middle of The East
9:09 AM – 9:12 AM, Discuss Iran as a future threat to U.S.
9:13 AM – 10:21 AM, Discuss the slow, sad, painful toilet swirl that is Britney Spears' career and reputation, and the giant, huge enormity of her sow-like weight gain
10:22, Break for brunch
1:35 PM – 1:46 PM, Discuss possible troop withdrawal as early as next Spring
1:47 PM – 3:15 PM, Discuss possible candidacy for presidential run and campaign as early as this Spring
3:16 PM – 4:44 PM, Smoke break (for Hamilton, trying to quit, 5th time now)
4:45 PM – 4:48 PM, Realize it's almost 5:00 PM and call it a day
September 21, 2006
10:15 AM – 10:23 AM, Waiting on Baker in the bathroom (apparently a piece of his sausage biscuit "broke off" and Jimmy Dean decided to "throw his hat into the ring", P and U)
10:24 AM – 11:56 AM, Heated discussion on how loose stools are responsible for more diplomatic snafus than any other single bodily function
11:57 AM – 12:09 PM, Discuss Alan K. Simpson's "Daisy with a Smiley Face", and unanimously vote it Best Doodle of the Day
12:09 PM – 12:35 PM, Read aloud the minutes from yesterday's session
12:36 PM – 12:45 PM, Conclude yesterday was quite productive, break for lunch
2:47 PM – 2:51 PM, Discuss Iran's nuclear capabilities and how that relates to uranium enrichment
2:52 PM – 2:55 PM, Conclude that it doesn't, or won't anyway
2:56 PM – 4:35 PM, Discuss whether or not TomKat's baby Suri is an alien space robot
4:36 PM – 4:40 PM, Conclude to leave it up to further discussion
4:41 PM – ???, Quick Boggle™ tournament snowballs out of control, track of time lost
September 22, 2006
11:30 AM – 11:32 AM, Discuss breaking for lunch
11:33 AM – 11:34 AM, Conclude to agree to break for lunch
2:36 PM – 2:41 PM, Discuss Syria's influence over Lebanon
2:41 PM – 3:45 PM, Get sidetracked and conclude Mel was definitely "under the influence"
3:46 PM – 4:30 PM, Get sidetracked further and discuss "the Israel influence in America"
4:31 PM – 5:50 PM, Conference call with The Bilderberg Group
5:51 PM – 6:36 PM, Get sidetracked further and discuss Jolie's influence over Pitt
6:37 PM – 6:40 PM, Get sidetracked even further and conclude that Johnny Depp's eyes are "dreamy"
6:41 PM – 6:43 PM, (Allegedly) destroy today's minutes, adjourn 'till tomorrow, 7:30 AM, to get an early start and avoid the eerily early holiday traffic
September 23, 2006
9:48 AM – 10:12 AM, Discuss if we weren't the only ones trying to avoid the eerily early holiday traffic
10:13 AM – 10:15 AM, Conclude that we weren't
10:16 AM, Break for brunch (Ed Meese made poppy seed muffins, Yum!)
1:20 PM – 1:35 PM, Discuss Lebanon's influence over the Palestinian people
1:36 PM – 2:10 PM, Discuss Beverly Hills 90210's influence over The OC
2:11 PM – 2:33 PM, Conclude that they shouldn't have killed off Marissa last season because Mischa Barton was one of the few reasons anyone watched the show in the first place
2:34 PM – 5:31 PM, Discuss Mischa's career, from playing a little girl whose mother is feeding her Cream of Drano soup in The Sixth Sense all the way to Closing The Ring, which, concluded excitedly, could be what Pulp Fiction was for Uma Thurman
5:32 PM – 5:46 PM, Discuss whether or not Sandra Day O'Connor is "holding"
5:47 PM – 5:50 PM, Conclude that she is
5:51 PM – 6:09 PM, Rolling papers search
6:10 PM – 6:11 PM, Eureka! Thanking god for Georgetown grad students
6:12 PM – 6:23 PM, Pass to the right
6:24 PM – 9:15 PM, Discuss how the Gilligan's Island episode with the Japanese soldier who thinks World War 2 is still going on could so totally happen in real life
9:16 PM – 9:45 PM, "Munchies Patrol", locate vending machine, Panetta breaks glass with his head, score
9:46 PM – ???, ???
September 24, 2006
12:24 PM – 12:36 PM, Look at each other somewhat embarrassed in silence
12:37 PM – 4:15 PM, Read yesterday's minutes aloud and try to piece together exactly what happened
4:16 PM – 5:01, Conclude that those incidents will stay in this room forever
5:02 PM – 5:14 PM, Discuss insurgency thingie
5:15 PM – 5:18 PM, Conclude that we need to tell Iran and Syria to knock it off in a stern letter in so many words
5:18 PM – 6:35 PM, Discuss tonight's upcoming episode of Deal Or No Deal
6:36 PM – 7:01 PM, Conclude NBC is trying desperately to keep the contestants very "melting pot-ish" looking
7:02, Larry Eagleburger shows up with case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and a Giant bag of Funyuns (conclude he's still high)
7:03 PM – 9:05 PM, "Belch-off"
9:06 PM – 9:43 PM, Discuss how Shallow Hal was robbed at the Oscars
9:44 PM – 9:50 PM, Group hug, goes on a little to long, Vernon Jordan blamed
9:51 PM – 9:52 PM, Hurried leaving and goodbyes
Septemeber 25 – December 2, 2006, Much deserved group hiatus
December 3, 2006 ("The Day Of Conclusions, And Atonement")
9:15 AM, Conclude that The United State of America did indeed at some point in the last 4 years or so in fact invade Iraq, which is indeed in fact a country
9:30 AM, Conclude that everything was going just fine in Iraq right up until the midterm elections, at which point it started going not just fine, and that it's almost as if the Iraq thingie turned into a giant, civil war quagmire virtually over night (weird)
9:40 AM, Conclude that O'Connor should apologize to Baker for calling him a useless has-been with breath that could stop an American military invasion that's sort of not legal
9:45 AM, Conclude that it's imperative that the new Democratically controlled House and Senate work with President Bush, unlike how uncooperative the House and Senate were when they were controlled by the President's own party (also weird)
10:10 AM, Conclude that there really is something to The Powell Doctrine of Overwhelming Force (not to mention the switters Doctrine of Overwhelming Cocktails), and that it's almost always a good idea when you're invading another country to bring 3 more divisions than you think you really need (and one more keg than you think they can drink)
10:20 AM, Conclude that playing partisan politics is almost never a good reason for 11 soldiers to die
10:30 AM, Conclude, ultimately, that talk is still pretty cheap these days, and that, on account of inflation, should be a real feather in the cap for you supply-siders"
A Brief Glimpse Inside A Think Tank
Secret Notes Prove Diplomacy Alive And Well In Fantasy Land
Talk about a Hot Document. Man. I just hope nobody's preggers! Caution: Many Bothans died for this information. Proceed at your own risk.
"September 20, 2006
8:45 AM – 8:52 AM, Discuss whether or not Iraq is a country
8:53 AM – 9:08 AM, Conclude that it is, and that it's somewhere in the middle of The East
9:09 AM – 9:12 AM, Discuss Iran as a future threat to U.S.
9:13 AM – 10:21 AM, Discuss the slow, sad, painful toilet swirl that is Britney Spears' career and reputation, and the giant, huge enormity of her sow-like weight gain
10:22, Break for brunch
1:35 PM – 1:46 PM, Discuss possible troop withdrawal as early as next Spring
1:47 PM – 3:15 PM, Discuss possible candidacy for presidential run and campaign as early as this Spring
3:16 PM – 4:44 PM, Smoke break (for Hamilton, trying to quit, 5th time now)
4:45 PM – 4:48 PM, Realize it's almost 5:00 PM and call it a day
September 21, 2006
10:15 AM – 10:23 AM, Waiting on Baker in the bathroom (apparently a piece of his sausage biscuit "broke off" and Jimmy Dean decided to "throw his hat into the ring", P and U)
10:24 AM – 11:56 AM, Heated discussion on how loose stools are responsible for more diplomatic snafus than any other single bodily function
11:57 AM – 12:09 PM, Discuss Alan K. Simpson's "Daisy with a Smiley Face", and unanimously vote it Best Doodle of the Day
12:09 PM – 12:35 PM, Read aloud the minutes from yesterday's session
12:36 PM – 12:45 PM, Conclude yesterday was quite productive, break for lunch
2:47 PM – 2:51 PM, Discuss Iran's nuclear capabilities and how that relates to uranium enrichment
2:52 PM – 2:55 PM, Conclude that it doesn't, or won't anyway
2:56 PM – 4:35 PM, Discuss whether or not TomKat's baby Suri is an alien space robot
4:36 PM – 4:40 PM, Conclude to leave it up to further discussion
4:41 PM – ???, Quick Boggle™ tournament snowballs out of control, track of time lost
September 22, 2006
11:30 AM – 11:32 AM, Discuss breaking for lunch
11:33 AM – 11:34 AM, Conclude to agree to break for lunch
2:36 PM – 2:41 PM, Discuss Syria's influence over Lebanon
2:41 PM – 3:45 PM, Get sidetracked and conclude Mel was definitely "under the influence"
3:46 PM – 4:30 PM, Get sidetracked further and discuss "the Israel influence in America"
4:31 PM – 5:50 PM, Conference call with The Bilderberg Group
5:51 PM – 6:36 PM, Get sidetracked further and discuss Jolie's influence over Pitt
6:37 PM – 6:40 PM, Get sidetracked even further and conclude that Johnny Depp's eyes are "dreamy"
6:41 PM – 6:43 PM, (Allegedly) destroy today's minutes, adjourn 'till tomorrow, 7:30 AM, to get an early start and avoid the eerily early holiday traffic
September 23, 2006
9:48 AM – 10:12 AM, Discuss if we weren't the only ones trying to avoid the eerily early holiday traffic
10:13 AM – 10:15 AM, Conclude that we weren't
10:16 AM, Break for brunch (Ed Meese made poppy seed muffins, Yum!)
1:20 PM – 1:35 PM, Discuss Lebanon's influence over the Palestinian people
1:36 PM – 2:10 PM, Discuss Beverly Hills 90210's influence over The OC
2:11 PM – 2:33 PM, Conclude that they shouldn't have killed off Marissa last season because Mischa Barton was one of the few reasons anyone watched the show in the first place
2:34 PM – 5:31 PM, Discuss Mischa's career, from playing a little girl whose mother is feeding her Cream of Drano soup in The Sixth Sense all the way to Closing The Ring, which, concluded excitedly, could be what Pulp Fiction was for Uma Thurman
5:32 PM – 5:46 PM, Discuss whether or not Sandra Day O'Connor is "holding"
5:47 PM – 5:50 PM, Conclude that she is
5:51 PM – 6:09 PM, Rolling papers search
6:10 PM – 6:11 PM, Eureka! Thanking god for Georgetown grad students
6:12 PM – 6:23 PM, Pass to the right
6:24 PM – 9:15 PM, Discuss how the Gilligan's Island episode with the Japanese soldier who thinks World War 2 is still going on could so totally happen in real life
9:16 PM – 9:45 PM, "Munchies Patrol", locate vending machine, Panetta breaks glass with his head, score
9:46 PM – ???, ???
September 24, 2006
12:24 PM – 12:36 PM, Look at each other somewhat embarrassed in silence
12:37 PM – 4:15 PM, Read yesterday's minutes aloud and try to piece together exactly what happened
4:16 PM – 5:01, Conclude that those incidents will stay in this room forever
5:02 PM – 5:14 PM, Discuss insurgency thingie
5:15 PM – 5:18 PM, Conclude that we need to tell Iran and Syria to knock it off in a stern letter in so many words
5:18 PM – 6:35 PM, Discuss tonight's upcoming episode of Deal Or No Deal
6:36 PM – 7:01 PM, Conclude NBC is trying desperately to keep the contestants very "melting pot-ish" looking
7:02, Larry Eagleburger shows up with case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and a Giant bag of Funyuns (conclude he's still high)
7:03 PM – 9:05 PM, "Belch-off"
9:06 PM – 9:43 PM, Discuss how Shallow Hal was robbed at the Oscars
9:44 PM – 9:50 PM, Group hug, goes on a little to long, Vernon Jordan blamed
9:51 PM – 9:52 PM, Hurried leaving and goodbyes
Septemeber 25 – December 2, 2006, Much deserved group hiatus
December 3, 2006 ("The Day Of Conclusions, And Atonement")
9:15 AM, Conclude that The United State of America did indeed at some point in the last 4 years or so in fact invade Iraq, which is indeed in fact a country
9:30 AM, Conclude that everything was going just fine in Iraq right up until the midterm elections, at which point it started going not just fine, and that it's almost as if the Iraq thingie turned into a giant, civil war quagmire virtually over night (weird)
9:40 AM, Conclude that O'Connor should apologize to Baker for calling him a useless has-been with breath that could stop an American military invasion that's sort of not legal
9:45 AM, Conclude that it's imperative that the new Democratically controlled House and Senate work with President Bush, unlike how uncooperative the House and Senate were when they were controlled by the President's own party (also weird)
10:10 AM, Conclude that there really is something to The Powell Doctrine of Overwhelming Force (not to mention the switters Doctrine of Overwhelming Cocktails), and that it's almost always a good idea when you're invading another country to bring 3 more divisions than you think you really need (and one more keg than you think they can drink)
10:20 AM, Conclude that playing partisan politics is almost never a good reason for 11 soldiers to die
10:30 AM, Conclude, ultimately, that talk is still pretty cheap these days, and that, on account of inflation, should be a real feather in the cap for you supply-siders"
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Deadwood: Season 3, Part 2
(Part 1's on Best of the Fray. Suckers!)
So Alma's back on the junk, Leon has an extended conversation with his reflection in a mud puddle, Steve has an extended conversation with a horse and then proceeds, I can only guess, to get his brains kicked in by it, a horse belonging to Little Nigger General, no less, the same "black bastard" who has the misfortune of stumbling across Steve's body, Al has an extended conversation with, that's right, the dead indian's chopped off head-in-a-box, Dan yanks out Captain Turner's eyeball and then brains him with some firewood.
And Sheriff Bullock has the brilliant idea of leading Hearst out of the Belle Union by the ear like he's 7 years old for all to see from miles away when Captain Turner's body isn't even cold yet and leaves him in jail overnight with the corpse whose murder he's accused of authoring days before? He's quite the strategerist, a regular Karl Rove of the wild west there, Seth. Oh, good, Charlie. Antagonize him some more while you're over there separating the Wells Fargo and Sears catalogues. Very constructive.
My favorite line thus far has to be Al to Trixie: "Get the fuck out, you loopy cunt!"
Tolliver's scene with Hearst and Swearingen challenged the intestinal fortitude of my subwoofer.
Watching the fist fight on youtube's tiny little window with monaural audio did justice to neither the choreography, the brutality, nor the sound design. I feel like I really know just exactly what it sounds like to crush a man's skull with a faggot, or to have your face bitten into.
The number of times I need to see Jane naked I can count on no hands.
The irony of Steve getting killed (presumably) by the horse owned by a member of a race that he finds inferior all the while engaged in trying to trick that member of that race into staying and working at his newly acquired livery out of some twisted sense of affection since Hostetler played peekaboo with a sawed off cannon because he couldn't stand being called a liar is a bitter pill only Milch would make us swallow.
The number of times I need to see Jody naked I can count on one penis.
I think I've still got a few more episodes to go, but I'm still worried that after the last episode ends, I'm going to feel like I've just had sex but never achieved an orgasm. Wish me luck.
So Alma's back on the junk, Leon has an extended conversation with his reflection in a mud puddle, Steve has an extended conversation with a horse and then proceeds, I can only guess, to get his brains kicked in by it, a horse belonging to Little Nigger General, no less, the same "black bastard" who has the misfortune of stumbling across Steve's body, Al has an extended conversation with, that's right, the dead indian's chopped off head-in-a-box, Dan yanks out Captain Turner's eyeball and then brains him with some firewood.
And Sheriff Bullock has the brilliant idea of leading Hearst out of the Belle Union by the ear like he's 7 years old for all to see from miles away when Captain Turner's body isn't even cold yet and leaves him in jail overnight with the corpse whose murder he's accused of authoring days before? He's quite the strategerist, a regular Karl Rove of the wild west there, Seth. Oh, good, Charlie. Antagonize him some more while you're over there separating the Wells Fargo and Sears catalogues. Very constructive.
My favorite line thus far has to be Al to Trixie: "Get the fuck out, you loopy cunt!"
Tolliver's scene with Hearst and Swearingen challenged the intestinal fortitude of my subwoofer.
Watching the fist fight on youtube's tiny little window with monaural audio did justice to neither the choreography, the brutality, nor the sound design. I feel like I really know just exactly what it sounds like to crush a man's skull with a faggot, or to have your face bitten into.
The number of times I need to see Jane naked I can count on no hands.
The irony of Steve getting killed (presumably) by the horse owned by a member of a race that he finds inferior all the while engaged in trying to trick that member of that race into staying and working at his newly acquired livery out of some twisted sense of affection since Hostetler played peekaboo with a sawed off cannon because he couldn't stand being called a liar is a bitter pill only Milch would make us swallow.
The number of times I need to see Jody naked I can count on one penis.
I think I've still got a few more episodes to go, but I'm still worried that after the last episode ends, I'm going to feel like I've just had sex but never achieved an orgasm. Wish me luck.
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