Where’s the Beef . . . er, Pork?
Why is it that a love of pork trumps family values every time? I bet this sort of thing happens a lot less in Kosher households.
It’s An Integrity Thing, Stupid!
Why does the party that claims to be the bastion of morality and all that is Right work so hard to derail Democracy? C’mon Republicans, show a little integrity and let legitimate votes be counted for once! Or are you afraid it might set a precedent and more folks will expect honest Presidential elections next?
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Oh! You Sexy Beast!
Live fast, die Young, and leave a good-looking exoskeleton! If the same principle applies to people, I should live a very long life . . . I gave up on sex ads a long time ago.
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Rush ‘n Rant
I woke up with a rush this morning. No, I wasn’t high- I was dreaming that Rush Limbaugh ate our Christmas tree. I really need to avoid spicy foods just before bedtime. So, what better topic this morning than a little Rush?
As I wrote a few weeks back before trashing sweet li’l Condi Rice, I had watched a little Rush on CSPAN. I am not a fan of Rush, and immediately wrote a response to a few things he said. It is even less thought out and coherent than most of my stuff, but it’s straight from the heart: From me to you, Rush-baby! I’m not sure what topic he was speaking on. I think he was trying to remind us all that liberals, like Jews, should be dehumanized, outlawed and euthanized. I’m guessing he was trying to get O’Reilly turned on so they could share a loofah . . . anyway, on with the rant.
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Really Bad Ideas
They call it a troop shortage. I call it an organizational shortage. There are still plenty of healthy young Americans of the right age to be sent off to be maimed and killed in Iraq. Instead of extending the length of missions, why not rotate the troops? Give them a break from the horror, fatigue and general quagmire this war has become. Draft if necessary. It is obvious that this administration has no respect for life (post-birth, at least), and assuming there will be no third term for Bush, why not start a draft? Bad idea? Then how about this? Use the troops — active and reserve — that we already have.
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It’s time for a new frame.
Yes, Mr. President, sometimes you are defined by your critics. That is especially true when you have no real substance of your own. I realize that it is nowhere near April 1, but with this last line (“. . . for reframing reality to match his design, . . .”), surely the whole TIME’s 2004 Person of the Year thing is a joke. Many people reframe reality to match their designs . . . usually we call them crazy.
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Not morning news, dammit!
I may have to revise my opinion of the death penalty. On the other hand, here’s the perfect woman for Scott Peterson!
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Hamsters & Octopi
There are some discussions I never wish to have again.
“Do you know about hamsters and octopuses?” my wife asks as I roll over.
“I know something about hamsters and I know something about octopi,” I answer. “but I don’t know anything about hamsters and octopi together. Other than that it’d be a bad idea to keep them together.”
“I was thinking about sex,” she explains.
“Oh,” I say, rolling over again in hopes of ending the conversation.
“There’s the whole Richard Gere thing with hamsters, but octopuses have all those arms . . . all that suction.”
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Poo-etry
I’ve got a new book to read, so let’s end the night with the world’s worst poem! Courtesy of two minutes of hiding from the kids:
I’m writing poetry now,
pretentious contentious pap poetry
tired old cliches
of death and sex and love
growing old and losing hope
just some
old fashioned poetry
I’ll use ‘ere and ’tis
and long ago
and themes of darkness and death
and now we come
to one last line
of poetry — hey, where’s my shoe?
Walt Whitman I am not.
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Grrr! Argh! Hiss! Ribbit?
My family and I are herpetoculturists, which is a fancy way of saying we keep reptiles and amphibians, not all of which have names. I prefer to think of it as having pet reptiles, as I always think of either lone and lonely middle-age balding white guys with few friends and fewer hygiene habits, yellow teeth, stained Metallica tees stretched over their bellies, or nerdy teenage boys, desperate for sex and so horribly socially inept that they think discussing their collection of diamondbacks will attract girls. Either way, social skills gone horribly awry. If they had been born twentysomething years earlier, they would be AD&D players (wait a darned minute here; I was an AD&D player twentysomething years ago. Damn! But I did not have a herp at the time. Okay, I am safe). Maybe they still are. When I try to be pompous or technical with other people and claim to be a herpetoculturist, they generally back away and say they have heard great things about Valtrex, that it really controls the outbreaks. Which lends credence to my theory that most people are idiots. That is keeper of reptiles, you moron, not bearer of herpes!
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