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My girlfriend is mixed. German and African American. In most people’s eyes, she’s black. Whatever. She’s extraordinarily well educated, smart as a whip besides, and comes from a good and noble family. She’s also hot.

Oh, and crazy.

I’m a self made man. Grew up in a trailer and suffered rednecks in my youth.

Here’s the deal. She asserts that Ruffles Cheddar Cheese & Sour Onion and Cream potato chips are better than any cheap brand of BBQ chips, Lays for the sake of argument, on the average sandwich made with cheap white bread.

My point is that although her chips are delicious, and they are, they are too thick and crunchy for the average trailer park white bread sandwich. I believe I have some exclusive expertise in this area. I submit that the delicate crunch and copious grease, as well as the sweet salty seasoning of the inexpensive barbecue chip makes it far more suitable and indeed complimentary to any sandwich prepared with two slices of grocery store brand cheap white bread.

Do you know how easy it is to to transform a slice of such bread into a marble the size of a pinball using only thumb and forefinger? We like our dough.

I suggested to her that her brand may be better suited to a french roll or some kind of bun. This rocked her on her heels. It was like a powerful wind blew between us. I shot at her and she fled the dark alley where we were discussing it. Then she shot back from a corner.

What she doesn’t understand is the texture quotient. It’s low and therefore important. For example, given the thickness and rigidity of her brand, the mere thickness of the enclosure is not the only factor. The texture of her chips require benefit from a further ballast, like thinly sliced pickle and fresh spinach leaves. Moisture. Not too mention lubrication beyond mayo and mustard; condiments like pesto and tapenade necessarily come into play. Moisture. Big bread and dense chips equal dryness.

The secrets of any given sandwich lie in the contrasts of texture, flavor, moisture, sweet and salt.

By now you see the dangerous territory we entered into somewhat haplessly?

The sandwich we are now describing is far beyond the solar system of the humble one we were endeavoring to build with the most common of materials and ingredients.

Let us revisit the trailer. We use those wafer thin slices of ham and turkey from packaging without even a ziploc at the top. A buck twenty nine per, at most. Coat both slices of whitebread with Miracle Whip or real mayonnaise if you can. The cheese should be individually wrapped slices of Velveeta or a suitable off brand that is at least individually wrapped. One slice on each slab. Genrous ketchup on one and generous mustard on the other. A little salt and pepper never hurts. Pile the meat on the mustard side and apply the chips. A dense layer but not more than a third of an inch or so. Use you palm to compress if necessary.

Get yerself a grape fuckin soda.

Bonus question: What kind of chip works best in a milkshake?

Drinks for my friends.

How do we do this?

Sure, it was a landslide. By popular vote Our Man won by nearly ten million. Seven points separating him from Doubtfire. Look at the map, more blue than I’ve ever seen. America bleeds red, but her map has rarely been more blue. Indiana, North Carolina and Virginia? 364 electoral votes to 163. A thumpin’.

A shit sandwich on a week old hot dog bun with colonies of green and blue spores. No mayo no mustard, no lube whatsoever. The cheese is hard and sweaty. Flies.

In place is the single most imperative mandate I’ve witnessed in my adult life. For change. For hope. America is loud and clear. We’ve been offered this sandwich says She. We say, fuck this shit.

Torture, rendition, spying on our own without a warrant, indefinite incarceration, election fraud, preemptive war and aggression with nothing but bullshit justification, raids on the public coffers, Habeas Corpus rendered null and void, same deal for Posse Comitatus. A Constitution in tatters. It really does go on and on.

Here’s the sobering part. The reckoning.

Almost fifty nine million Americans voted for McCain. That many citizens of this country giving at least a tacit nod of approval by proxy for all this fuckery. Among them are bigots, racists, people with shitloads of money but without soul or conscience. The ignorant and the evil.

The scared.

We are still badly broken. Prop 8 passed in California. Racism and bigotry alive and well in this land of opportunity. How soon we forget. As recently as 1967, marriage between black and white was against the law in sixteen states. For those who would posit that the the law is the law and now constitutional, that we should let it be, succumb and surrender, I say piss up a fucking rope. I say this, because it is wrong.

Bitch slap: In california it was mormons and the minorities turning out for Obama who pushed prop 8 over the goddamn seawall. Narrow and deep irony. It’s a civil rights issue. Shame on you. Mormons are polluted by stupidity and ingnorance. Blacks and Latinos should be ashamed. Bad form. Hypocritical.

America is still profoundly fucked up.

History shows us that almost every worthwhile struggle starts at the bottom of a very steep hill. This one, no different. It will be ugly. Hearts and lives rent asunder along the way.

We’re no longer at the bottom. I can’t say how far we’ve come, but we are about to find out. Fascinating times. The paradigm shifts. Lava begins to rush.

So, how do we do this? Martin Luther King bequeathed upon us the most valuable and sagacious of maxims; consistent, unswerving, intelligent and righteous resistance. Absent violence of any kind.

There’s a remote chance that by asking them the same question over and over, they will realize how stupid the answer is. Don’t forget to tell them that you are a fiscal conservative. Lots of liberals are. They like that shit, they think they believe in it.

Let’s talk about the ‘scared’ shall we? I’ll be brave and guess that’s the common denominator between a third and half of the the almost 59 million. We need to find these frightened folks and get them a better haircut. Shave them if necessary. Treat them nice. Feed them well. Be kind.

Who doesn’t like pancakes with peanut butter?

A complimentary delousing. Free tupperware and sporks. New socks.

There plenty of fights to be had. Most will be easy to pick. For a lot of us however, our job is to engage. Get involved. No need to be confrontational, talk about what you care about. Keep it on the front page.

Forgive me. I’m serious. Waste no time on the dogmatic idealogues. They’re too far gone. Falwell can tell them to eat the children. He could and they would. Ever look into an evangelical’s eyes?

Find those eyes frozen by the headlights. Buy them a taco. Lead them from winter to spring. They’ll be melancholy for the previous season and nostalgic for the Abominable Snowman. Try to present the new season as fresh and hopeful. Point out the flowers and that animals both wild and domestic are fucking like mad.

Who doesn’t like pancakes with peanut butter?

You can see I’m struggling with this. I’m convinced on an intellectual level I’ve nailed it. Up here on the top floor, I own it. Not only makes sense but it’s wise.

Down below, closer to me gulliver, I’m all about making them pay. Evil or just plain stupid, they deserve some amount of consequence. Pricks. Dipshits.

But that’s no good, see?

The hopeless will resent it, the fearful won’t understand and they’ll hold it against us. Be nice to conservatives, at least until you figure them out.

Who doesn’t like pancakes with peanut butter?

Your mission is to figure them out and determine who is worth your time. Coming soon, a national Adopt a Pants Shitting Conservative Day.

Drinks for my friends.

I hate it when I’m a cop on TV and my informant gets whacked for talking to me.

I hate when I’m newspaper editor in a movie and I have to bury a story because of political pressure.

Just as bad when I’m a defense attorney and I know my client is guilty or when I’m a prosecutor and the defendant is innocent.

How can people eat sardines or pickled pigs feet? Sheezus.

I don’t like elevators. Every single time I get in one, I imagine worst case scenario. I lived in an old building in Korea Town. I lived on the top floor. The fourth floor. In three years, I never stepped foot inside it.

Why don’t they just sell those peanuts from Crackerjacks seperately?

I’m kinda anxious for time travel and instant transportation, as long as my identity and soul aren’t atrophied by the requisite scrambling of my molecules.

Smoking a cigarette in hard wind really mitigates the pleasure.

If it’s a Mercedes, there’s a good chance the driver is an asshole.

Man I hate getting stuck behind a truck or a bus.

I cannot figure out whether or not Andy Dick is an idiot.

I don’t beileve I’ve met or known a woman named Claire.

I like to jump to conclusions and then retrace my steps.

I’m instantly uncomfortable when pointed at.

Smiles are golden but frowns are interesting and entertaining. You should see the frown my oldest cat wears by default.

Looks like we have massive vote fraud in Alaska. Por ejemplo, turnout was down fourteen percent despite Alaska’s favorite daughter running for Vice President. There’s more. Google it.

Let me tell ya something.

Although I think the idea of combining coffee bars with bookstores is brilliant, I rarely take advantage. I make it a point to bring a book whenever I dine alone.

I miss toast. It’s been a while.

What’s the smartest thing to come out of a woman’s mouth? Einstein’s cock.

I had a nightmare last night where I had a forest of black hair covering my torso. It would make Ed Asner and Robin Williams blush on my behalf. Now where the fuck did that come from?

Endeavoring to be honest is often a burden. The level of commitment always mirrors the proportion of angst.

Do people who go crazy ever realize they were crazy and regret it?

I hate it when the goddamn vampires show up.

I really hope that those of you who would sacrifice liberty for security take it upon yourselves to shut the fuck up now.

Drinks for my friends.

Don’t go thinking we’re done.

I understand that it will take a while. I’m affording myself incremental morsels, occasional mouth fulls of hope and optimism. I can smell it and it’s like nothing else ever.

What the wind brings to my nose is rich and ripe. Beyond possibility and potential, there are notes of struggle and hard work in the gusts. The concept of thinking globally and acting locally is about to enjoy a brand new day. Personal responsibility and accountability will be celebrated. Our Man understands in no uncertain terms that we watch with a degree of scrutiny heretofore unseen and never even heard of by any Republican leader.

He’s under the microscope. He will have to talk to us frequently and honestly. Eyes wide open, he walks into the biggest mess an American President has ever seen.

The scent is clean as the wind is fresh.

From whence it blows matters little as there is honesty and community in all it’s notes.

America is now pregnant with possibility for the first time in a decade. Be ready for the role of midwife. Or shitwiper. Each and every, will be asked to participate. Without even saying it, the more who answer, the better our chances.

“I was born by the river in a little tent
And just like the river, I’ve been running ever since
It’s been a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come

It’s been too hard living, but I’m afraid to die
I don’t know what’s up there beyond the sky
It’s been a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come

I go to the movie, and I go downtown
Somebody keep telling me “Don’t hang around”
It’s been a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come

Then I go to my brother and I say, “Brother, help me please”
But he winds up knocking me back down on my knees

There’ve been times that I’ve thought I couldn’t last for long
But now I think I’m able to carry on
It’s been a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come” -Sam Cooke

Get ready to be called upon. Your part might be magnanimous or merely peripheral. Prolific or a one time deal. Look for what you can do. Watch what happens and figure out for yourself how best you can be of help.

Without the involvement of her citizenry, America, after reaching the point she has, will fold.

Like a paper tent.

A pale rose without water.

A horse in the desert.

We’re in a ridiculous hole. Government WILL NOT solve our problems. Leadership of the rock solid variety just might. Pay attention. Read and then write if necessary. What has happened is astounding. It is a start. Proof that we’ve begun to understand. A cognizance I hope, pervasive enough, so that we understand we’ll all be required of.

An important window opened upon a still unlikely solution. Maybe luck played a role. I don’t know but I don’t really believe in luck. I can still say this, with any luck, we’re just getting started.

“C’mon people now,
Smile on your brother
Ev’rybody get together
Try and love one another right now” -Youngbloods

It’s a runaway train. The passengers will need to do more than rush the goddamn cockpit.

“I go reachin for a cigarette
She says no no baby I aint done yet” -The Gotohells

Drinks for my friends.

1. What color is your underwear right now?
I’m free. Commando. Otherwise it would be disco ball. Maybe leopard.

2. What are you listening to right now?
The sigh of brainrot.

3. What are the last 2 digits in your phone number?
If she survives the birthing, I’ll name her Peg.

4. What was the last thing you ate?
Parsnips and rutabagas. The latter has an edible tuber. Tuber is my new favorite word.

5. If you were a crayon what color would you be?
Yellow, red and orange. A fast food candle.

6. How is the weather right now?
Not as disease friendly as it has been. I imagine I should wash the linens again anyway. Politics was show business for ugly people until Tuesday night.

7. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
A caped crusader. I doubt it was The Caped Crusader. He did promise donuts. I think he said he worked for the government. That really threw me.

8. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex?
Face, eyes, soul, happiness. Voluptuosness. Pretty much in that order.

9. Favorite type of Food?
Dense, thick with sauce and contrasting flavors. Lots of gravy and bread in case you don’t like it. I usually like a little greasiness but not always. I love sushi and the last few months have seen me become a whore for wasabi. Fucking pasta and cheesy tomatoey sauce. Deep fry a shoe and if there’s a good dip, I’m up to bat. Gimme some fucking cheese.

10. Do you drink?
Oh boy. Why do you ask? You’ve heard of the pro life movement? I’m pro booze and just as rabid and tenacious.

Water
Tons of it. I adore cold water. I keep icy water on hand at all times.

Milk
Not since I was seven.

Lemonade
Occasionally. The low sugar stuff. I prefer an Arnold Palmer, with the low sugar stuff.

11. Do you smoke?
Why yes. Do you fart?

12. Ever get so drunk you don’t remember?
Why yes. Rarely, but it’s happened. It makes me nervous.

13. What color are your eyes?
Blue. Bloodshot after I vomit or sneeze. Fire dances in them when I sit in front of a dancing fire.

15. Do you wear contacts?
Nope. Don’t like most of the people I know. Hate to be too attached.

16. Single?
As opposed to plural? Not really. I got’s me a female companion and she’s a little crazy. Oh well. She’s real good to me. I can’t imagine why she likes me as much as she does. I’m flattered.

17. Favorite Month?
Let’s hope it’s this one.

18. Ever cried for no reason?
Plenty of silly ones. Ever drive down the road and for an instant, glimpse a beautiful woman’s face?

19. Last Movie you watched?
Bark of the Lounger. Fuck and suck circus. Ebola ain’t shit.

20. Favorite day of the week?
Kinda self employed but I still like Friday night and Saturday morning. Otherwise I’d say Christmas afternoon at home.

21. Are you too shy to ask someone out?
Not if I’m smitten.

22. Hugs or Kisses?
Puppies and kittens. Deep, snot whistling kisses and then warm hugs and groping.

23. Chocolate or Vanilla?
He he, dog will hunt. Bing Crosby and Negro Romance comics.

24. Do you want your friends to respond?
I wish them luck. I only hope they remain responsive.

25. Who is most likely to respond?
Biodiesel.

26. Who is least likely to respond?
Saddam. Bin Laden. Ann Coulter, where you been?

27. What books are you reading?
Bugliosi and McClellan (Pasty McSquinty). Books that should have been articles. Shit really. I’ve got the latest Vonnegut around here somewhere.

28. Piercings?
Piss up a rope. Damn, my balls are seriously huge.

29. Fav. Movie of all time:
Horton Hears a Who. Blue Velvet. The Big Lebowski. Top Gun. Trinity And Beyond. Nobody’s Fool. Just about any western with Lee Van Cleef. No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood. Animal House. The Prestige and The Illusionist. Born Free and Old Yeller. Capote…………..

30. Fav. baseball team?
Right now that’d be Tampa because of my good buddy Hunter. A small man who brings lots to the table.

31. Any pets?
Yup. Beddy and Swirly. Proof. A handful of contemptible and insidious demons.

32. AIM?
– FIRE! (went with Dave on this one).

33. Butter, Plain or salted popcorn?
Goop it the fuck up and give me some Skittles and a diet coke. Got any caramel corn?

34. Dogs or cats?
Bitches. Cats.

35. Fav. flower?
Splodey ones. Fireworks. Desert ones. Hearty and pungent. Lavender and Rosemary. I like sunflowers and daisies but it’s not like they have a pleasant aroma. Orchids confuse and amaze me.

36. Have you ever fired a gun?
You bet. A whole mess o’ catfish.

37. Do you like to travel by plane as opposed to car?
I prefer a nuclear powered sub but there’s only so many waterways.

38. Right handed or left handed?
One hand feels like somebody else. I wipe with the left and eat with the right.

39. How many pillows do you sleep with?
I need three. One for me and one on each side for the other two of me.

40. Are you missing someone?
Missing, no. Lacking? Perhaps.

“Hello, world, here’s a song that we’re singin’,
c’mon get happy
A whole lotta lovin’ is what we’ll be bringin’,
we’ll make you happy

We had a dream we’d go trav’lin’ together
We’d spread a little lovin’ then we’d keep movin’ on
Somethin’ always happens whenever we’re together
We get a happy feelin’ when we’re singin’ a song

Trav’lin’ along there’s a song that we’re singin’,
c’mon get happy
A whole lotta lovin’ is what we’ll be bringin’,
we’ll make you happy
We’ll make you happy,
we’ll make you happy” -The Partridge Family

Drinks for my friends.

Nothing smells like a tire shop. I loved it. Always a chrome gumball machine. Newspapers, car magazines. Displays of motor oil, fascinating three dimensional cutaway presentations of tread and steel belts. All kinds of shit to look at and the coolest smell.

Kinda like the Barbershop behind Cactus Jack’s. It had it’s own vibe and there were comic books from Andy’s Smoke Shop around the corner on Main Street. A guy named Bob took care of me and the Old Man. Light blue smocks and the scent of Barbicide.

The tall jar of aquamarine disinfectant filled with combs is something that fascintes me to this day. I have an overwhelming compulsion to put red striped straws in with the combs.

Someday I’ll do that.

Dad always went first so I could get started reading a comic. I didn’t like getting my hair cut and I don’t know why. I’m not sure we’ve ever understood each other but he always understood what I needed.

The apparatus, gauges, hoses and tools at the tire shop set my imagination of fire. Pneumatic engines and hydraulic lifts leave a huge impression on a six year old. They lift the whole goddamn car! The sound and power of pneumatic wrenches. Every man’s hands were dirty but they were all friendly and smelled of hair tonic and aftershave. VO5, Tres Flores, Hi Karate, Brut, English Leather or Avon.

They all chewed gum. Some smoked cigarettes while chewing gum. They rarely removed the cigarette from their lips. They talked, smoked, chewed gum and worked on cars.

The Old Man was polite and talked to them with respect. They liked him. He liked them. They saw he was a man who made a living with his hands. Mutual all the way around. His Detroit muscle needed new rubber. Mercury Cyclone. Dirty snow steaming on the edges of the parking lot. Coffee in flimsy styrofoam.

I really like the sound of guns being cocked and loaded in the movies. Know what else? When the bartender in a movie slams the shot glass on the bar and fills it with whiskey. Great sound. There’s a reason musical instruments are made from wood.

I collect marbles. They fascinate me. I know the best glass blowers in America and I own their work. I keep them in large, shallow crystal bowls. The sound as I pick them up and put them back is sublime. I can barely stand it when somebody picks up a bowl and they roll in chaos against the side.

I have somewhere between two and three thousand comic books. I collected them from the age of eleven to sixteen or so. I read every single one. I haven’t looked at them since then. They’re in boxes in my closet.

Did you know that Ralph’s supermarket brand of SpaghettiOs is far superior to that of Franco-American? Not so sweet and much cheaper. Half the price. I bought five cans for five bucks not long ago. Off-brand Spaghettios should be a staple in any pantry. Cheap and nutritious. They’re best cold, straight out of the can. Trust me, I know. Use a soup spoon.

I’m really afraid of bees. Can’t help it. Took a barefoot walk through some clover when I was two. Don’t remember it but it’s a preternatural fear.

The last day before summer vacation in seventh grade was overcast. I don’t recall ever feeling lonelier.

I miss the eighties and the nineties. I’d go back.

I’ve done heroin. Twice. I smoked it and snorted it. I’d been around it enough, I was young. I was curious. I’d already done just about everything else.

The lead singer from a band named Dumpster indulged me. His girlfriend was a falling pornstar with the ugliest pussy I’d ever seen. She brought him his rig every night around seven. His name was Robert. She showed up with a black lacquered box that was somehow ceremonial. She was thin and white. Tall and sweet. Brunette.

One morning he was there before me, missing an eyebrow. He and told us an elaborate story about waking up and finding it intact on his pillow. Laid out perfectly, he told us with a sweep of his hand. An interesting and angry man. Compelling. He liked life.

We were happy to be there.

He told me about getting hit in the head with a full beer can from a speeding car while walking down a highway in the South. He said he thought he had it coming because he was just some punk.

His left front tooth was broken, he shaved his head and had brilliant blue eyes. He reminded me somehow of Anton LaVey. Very, very smart. Confrontational by nature, aggressive if you happened to be stupid.

He hid behind being a hick sometimes.

The drummer showed me some porn Robert’s girlfriend starred in. That’s how I know she had beef curtains like aging cold cuts.

I wondered how ugly a pussy could be and I found out.

One night she brings his rig and we’re finishing early. He’s ready to use the lounge to tie off, boil it in a spoon and slam it in his veins. He’s done his best to abstain during the daytime for the sake of performance. I respect this. He already understands I’m curious and we get along very well.

He starts by telling me he refuses to take responsibility for what will probably happen next. I tell him a big boy and not to worry. I can take care of myself and I own my actions. He prepares brown powder on aluminium foil for me. He hands me a glass tube and lights the foil from underneath with a Zippo.

I chase the dragon.

He goes to the lounge.

It is bliss. I walk the halls of the studio and eat an orange. I drop the peels on the floor. Everything I see is gorgeous. Each step starts like thunder at my toes and ends as pillows in my head. I drive my piece of shit Bug home and sleep like an infant.

I get home by feel. Instinct.

The next night he chops it for me. Razor blades not hard to come by in recording studios. It’s brown, like cinnamon and sugar. I snort it and so does he. He takes me for a walk. Sunset and La Brea. He takes time to point things out, people and situations. I’m higher this time. Everything is so much bigger. Lights and sounds and smells are grandiose.

Hoy’s Wok mixed with Burger King, Wendy’s, a 50’s Diner and a Mexican joint named Acapulco. A gas station, a couple dry cleaners and an El Pollo Loco.

So content. So happy. Inspired by the largesse of a warm and swarming evening.

I would be fine walking with this volatile bastard all night.

I consider pissing myself because it sounds like a pleasant idea in my head.

I understood then. I could never, ever do it again. It is the best drug I’ve ever tried. That was fifteen years ago.

Never did it again.

Another in a long series of brilliant bands that the record company either didn’t get or didn’t have the stones to sign.

See, when you work with a band in a recording studio, you can’t help but become a member of that band to one degree or another. Almost without exception, you become an advocate of their vision. When you make an actual record, if a bond somehow doesn’t form, something is wrong. It is by no means a normal enviroment. At least twelve hours a day, sometimes twenty four. An intensely creative and challenging atmosphere. Often a pressure cooker of conflict over vision, the big picture or the very small.

I was a producer/engineer. I came to know and understand people better in weeks than people who’d known them for years. In different ways for different reasons. The archetype of the dumb musician rarely applied. As a group, they are very bright and intellectually curious. Almost always more politically aware and better informed that the average shopper.

Robert was no exception. Axl Rose was, he was a complete moron. Tina Turner was pure class, elegance and talent. Mel Torme was as cool as a man that age can be. Bono and the band turned out to be very nice people. Annie Lennox endured a ride to her hotel in my shitbox VW Bug. We talked politics while she had a spring up her ass.

Art Alexakis is very difficult to describe. He’s very bright and knows exactly what he’s doing. At the same time he’s volatile, cranky and unpredictable. We definitely had fun but he’s a handful. Excellent songwriter and brilliant lyricist. He may just be a miserable man with a big heart.

I would have been happy to beat C.C. DeVille into a coma.

Chrissie Hynde threw a sausage at my head and I made sure Tom Petersson from Cheap Trick didn’t get the shit beat out of him in a titty bar.

Kenny Aranoff used to get pissed at me for playing his kit at night but Jeff Porcaro (R.I.P.) never said a word. I played just about every kit that came through. Dean Castronova and Terry Bozzio. Jim Keltner, Steve Gadd and Stewart Copeland. Vinnie, Omar and Manu Katché.

Over the years I met, worked with and came to understand some of the most interesting people there are, famous or not. I paid my dues but understood I was lucky. Hindsight tells me just how lucky. For a few years I was A&M’s Demo King. Sometimes a different band everyday. One day it was cellos and woodwinds, the next it was banjos stand up bass and concertinas. Wind up the week with a hardcore punk band.

I want to squeeze my nose with a pair of pliers so that it bursts like a cherry tomato and the pain enters my head in the sweetest and most delicious way.

Seems like it rained more back then.

Always direct the pyroclastic flow towards the ocean.

Drinks for my friends.

I’m just still in awe.

What has happened here is awesome. Forgive me, there is no better word.

I’m so pleased to see America do the right thing. In big ass overwhelming numbers. Historic margins. Dumbya had the retarded sense to declare a mandate after he stole a very close election. Yo Dumbya, check this mandate.

Bitch.

What exactly is up with Biden’s hair? Musta been humid.

Look what we did. Just look at it. They threw a trailer park of kitchen sinks at him and he prevailed with volume and velocity.

Never ever lost his cool. Not once. Flawless run. Every crisis dealt with aplomb. Not a step wrong. Amazing composure and dignity.

He’s just so fucking cool.

I’m pretty sure we don’t have to worry about him getting caught recieving a hummer in The Oval. We will never know. Michelle is pretty smokin.

The arc of history.

We all have limitations and we do well to own them. There is less than one in a million who don’t. Our man is one of those. He’s already shown us that.

He is the literal exception to almost every rule. By name and by face alone, one would imagine he had not a hope in hell. I am so impressed.

He’s our next President, bitch.

I can’t wait.

I’ll tell you why. It’s not his experience or lack thereof. Not his many accomplishments. Not his consistent countenance in the face of adversity.

It is his obvious intelligence and his ordinary life before his rapid acceleration. Despite his ears and the color of his skin, it is his humility.

In my mind, it is the difference between him and every other politician I’ve seen in my life. He’s a good solid man with a beautiful family. He is fierce. This man is not here to fuck around. There will be no Katrina size clusterfucks on Our Man’s watch.

It is astounding to put this man in the same sentence as George W. Bush. The idiot and the savant. Sounds like a pretty good one act play.

The reason I’m so in awe has everything to do with difference between the absolute moron who’s been the titular head of our country and therefore the free world for eight fucking years and the man we elected by absolute storm yesterday.

I kept asking why this was a contest. Turns out it wasn’t

Amazing.

Drinks for my friends.

“Say baby, do you wanna lay down with me?
Say baby, do you wanna lay down by my side?
Baby, do you wanna lay down with me?
Say baby
Say baby

Say baby, do you wanna lay down with me?
Say baby, do you wanna lay down by my side?
Baby, do you wanna lay down with me?
Say baby
Say baby” -Primus

The day is upon us.

You woke this morning and by days end, the world will be different.

Regardless of the result, history will happen to us all.

I’m just trying to get some pot so I can watch the returns in SENSURROUND.

I can’t help it. I’m all aflutter. Veklempt even.

It goes without saying that if you don’t vote today, I’ll come down your chimney and stab you in the eye with a rusty fork.

If you’re a good Democrat, a responsible progressive or an honest liberal and you somehow manage to avoid the polls today, I will blind you with my fork and turn that fork on your car. Your rootbeer colored Ford. If I have time and enough mud, I’ll crap at your main entrance. I will leave a pile or nothing at all.

If you’re a dipshit conservative mindless Republican, I’ll be by tomorrow with muffins and juice. After all, that’s your day to vote because you’re so goddamn special and elite. Yes, just avoid November Four, the day my rent becomes delinquent. You’re a member of the ruling class. Who would deny someone of your stature a little next day action? No lines. No hassle.

Just sit this one out. Seriously. You’re not needed here. Not this time. We’re fine without you. You’re covered. No one will know. Don’t risk the hair on your knuckles.

My apologies. I had every intention to impart a sober and thoughtful message.

Finnegan begin again.

***CNN has just projected Barack Hussein Obama as the next President of The United States***

Salty water spills down my face and over my shit eating grin.

What we have here is a successful communication. The real deal. A man who’s intentions are good. Strong and confident. Steady. Calm. Intelligent. Resolute.

What we have here is a lanslide. A majority, an aggregate of Americans have spoken with a very clear voice. Resounding. Overwhelming. A mandate. We are saying we’ve had enough. Finally. En Masse. Finally.

I honestly don’t know what to say. Yep, the polls have been going our way, but it was such a long shot for so long. I’ve confessed before that I didn’t think he stood a snowball’s chance in a weapons foundry. Until this year, I had no reason to think I was wrong.

He just kept coming.

Then he impressed us. Over and over.

Instead of a mea culpa over Reverend Wright, we received a most sensitive and scholarly treatise ever afforded a national audience on the subject of race. Delivered by a man half black, in a way that compelled every thinking man to think.

It’s not that I didn’t like him. I just didn’t think he had a chance and I was overly protective of my political sensitivities. I can be fragile you know.

I was afraid America would come to covet a blowtorch after the seas we’ve been forced to sail. A firebrand blowhard capable of nothing but recklessness.

True to form, we flirted with disaster. A cranky old man on the verge of dementia and a woman so ill prepared as to force prominent stalwarts of her own party to flee braying nonsense with fear and confusion in their eyes.

Could the blackhats possibly have fucked this up any worse?

Nope.

It’s Comedy.

Comedy is not pretty.

Good comedy is always ugly. Always. Always funny as fuck though.

The eve of hope. Not merely hope, but anticipation. We now expect and have the right to anticipate change. A change in the way the world sees us. With luck, a change in the way we see ourselves. Not red or blue. Not clinging to one ideology while in disgust of another. A collective of independent Americans with a common concern for the welfare of us all.

“We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, ensure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”

Fucking A.

A triumph over racism, bigotry and ignorance. Arms wide open. Instead of a step, how about a running jump? Perhaps a little too awesome?

We need to make it an aspect of our culture that he who would harbor unfounded bias be ashamed and shunned. This, so the rest of us can get on with it.

America will never be one. Not one thing. Not one idea. Not one people.

Having said that, it’s not so exclusive for us to move in concert. Tonight is proof. There is a considerable chasm between nationalism and patriotism. We have moved together to refute the bullshit visited upon us for the last eight years. The American people are done with this shit. THIS SHIT. Is over.

The numbers are formididable. Decisive. Impressive.

It is time for patriotism. It is one thing to vote for the man. It’s entirely another to stand behind him. Time to get on your feet people. The worst is yet to come and resting on your knees won’t do.

There will be a Democratic House and a Democratic Senate. There will be a Democratic President. The window to turn things around opened today. It could close in a mere two years if we’re not careful. Understand, this victory only guarantees a seat at the table. We will be allowed to play. We will have some juice. That is all.

We must play well and with purpose. Change will commence once we’ve held our own for a few seasons.

I’m rambling. What I’m trying to tell you is that nothing ends today. Everything starts. Now is the best time to be not an individual, but an American. It begins today.

“Ill walk right out into a brand new day
Insane and rising in my own weird way
I dont want to be the bad guy

I dont want to do your sleepwalk dance anymore
I just want to feel some sunshine
I just want to find some place to be alone” -Everclear

What has happened here is the best man won.
Yes, he’s black.
He didn’t win because he’s black.
He won despite being black.

He kept the color of his skin from being an isssue by making it about the content of his character.

Here’s the deal. He’s so fucking cool.

Drinks for my friends.

Here we are. Judgement day less than one hundred hours away.

Show me a vampire and I’ll show you a Republican. Such singleminded avarice does not exist in mere mortals. Show me a lockstep conservative and I’ll show you a nearly brain dead zombie. Such singleminded lust for flesh only exists in the undead.

John McCain is Frankenstein’s Monster. Far less than the sum of his parts and dangerously insane.

Show me an indefatigable, unflappable, charismatic black man and I’ll show you a liberal Democrat. There are no black vampires, except maybe Blackula. There’s very few black zombies. With zombies, you can tell by looking.

Happy Halloween.

By the way, Black Republicans must be as close to stupid as Gay Republicans.

Are you aware that almost a quarter of the good folks in Texas believe Our Man to be a Muslim? Like there’s anything more unsavory about that religion than the next. Fucking rednecks.

It’s embarrassing.

If you think Barack Obama is a Muslim, it’s because you’re looking for a reason to fear him. It is willfull ignorance and it’s among the ugliest of American proclivities. Guess what else it is? It’s straight up, no apologies, racist. Tragic and shameful.

What I’m trying to do here is make the point that, were it not for the color of his skin, Barack Obama would be escorting McCain to a toilet after an enema right about now and then tucking him in. Once the elder statesman begins to snore, Our Man would slip off to contemplate his cabinet. He’s that kind of guy and Doubtfire has consumed copious amounts of carcinogens on the trail. He’s glowing.

No worries, he’s not going to explode.

Actually, he’ll melt. There will be a godawfull smell. The stain will be solvent-proof. Greasy, like charred opossum.

A horrible mess, but it will manageable as long as we can get him outside before he starts to sizzle. Away from dense foliage and wooden structures. Get the hoses ready. Call 911. Wear a cup. Maybe a helmet and eye protection.

The actual location will need to be incinerated for public safety.

The other point I need to make is that there will indeed be a deadfall. A biohazard. The great unwashed will not go quietly. Many of them will not go at all. People have lifetimes, generations, invested in this pervasive, insidious belief system. They cling to the religious components of it as a way to legitimize and justify their bigotry and narrowmindedness.

It’s goddamn frustrating because they hide behind it and we athiests and agnostics can’t go there. They will label us Godless and no one one will hear us out.

Bastards.

Conservatives, neocons and religious zealots have no love for America. They don’t give a mad fuck. They love themselves and they count on being romanced by the more persuasive among them. Hook line and sinker, these fools wait for orders and start marching as soon as they receive the message.

They disdain thinking for themselves. They’ve come to depend on being told what to do. How to act. What to think.

What should be antithetical, has instead become gospel.

How do they do that? It’s not like they’re all under the same roof. It’s cult behavior on an impossibly massive scale.

One more season of this witch and we’re toast.

Happy Halloween.

Vote you fucks.

Pimp this blog. Spread it. Cut and paste it. Cop a link. Just get it out there. What song are you hoping to hear next Wednesday morning?

“Here we come, walkin’
Down the street.
We get the funniest looks from
Ev’ry one we meet.
Hey, hey, we’re the Monkees
And people say we monkey around.
But we’re too busy singing
To put anybody down.” -Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart

Drinks for my friends.

I honestly don’t doubt McCain’s intentions. He may very well be stupid but I don’t believe he’s evil. Old, under informed, out of touch, but not a bad man. He’s recklessly diluted himself and tragically compromised what could have been a sterling legacy.

I don’t really care. It’s not my area.

That’s my preface.

Obama will prevail because his ideas are exceptional. I like just about everything he proposes while understanding he can’t possibly realize half of it.

What he will do, I hope, is his best. Forgive me for not being dumb.

McCain is. He’s actually stupid. Clueless and out of touch. It is age multiplied by trauma and a perilous degree of emasculation by Cindy the yellowcake powered Stepford fembot. She’s fucking creepy. Don’t look at her eyes. Not even on TV. Your genitals will cook from the inside out.

Then there’s Palin. She too, is really dumb. She can’t pronounce the word nuclear. I can’t help but take exception to that. Eight years of mispronunciation and chronic malapropisms have taken a toll on me. Insult to injury is that Dumbya just plain says a lot of really dumb shit. My ass is literally chapped.

I hear Joe The Plumber was a no show today. Now that’s funny. How sad that he’s become the symbol for Republican integrity and know how. Bonafide go-to-guy. Eclipsing the Clown Princess in the twenty four hour news cycle. He’s their shining example. He’s an opportunistic idiot.

I hear Obama’s infomercial drew big numbers last night. Thirty three million. More than twice the average for a World Series game.

I’ve noticed that lately, when I blow bad air, it smells like McCain Palin. It sounds like them too.

I can’t wait for this thing to find it’s end. I’m more than anxious for it to be over. It’s killing me. The sheer volume of idiocy has been staggering. Five more days until we discover the waterline for dumbass.

Let’s hope it’s low.

There’s at least fifty million of them.

Mouth breathing dipshits walking in malls, attending gun shows and livestock events. Sometimes they drive green and/or orange cars festooned with Jesus stickers. A disproportionate number of hatchbacks, vans, smaller pickups, brown Pintos and Mavericks. Not all of these people are retarded but some are.

Many appear completely normal.

We all have more than casual affection for Metal.

There is of course, the other stratum of the Republican party. The Warlords. Marionette masters. The rich and the filthy rich. They keep getting richer and filthier. They push Faith on the downtrodden. The filthy understand it distracts them from the rape they are receiving and gives them something to believe in. The filthy own that the stupid are just that.

On this, the filthy are not mistaken.

They are despicable. While their country, their own people, sled into despair and destitution, Exxon Mobile reports the biggest quarterly profit in the history of the world while they collect subsidies right out of your fucking pocket.

That’s blatant assplay.

Until lately, that facet of the GOP was the problem.

Here’s the good news. The old money arrogant are having lunches of sardines marinated in Woolite forced down their necks with fists and mops by men and women like you and me. The rich fat fucks are on the ground and we are kicking them in the gut.

Their money doesn’t seem to be any good here. Beaten severely at their own game. Four to one. That’s rich. Pun intended.

Pricks.

Fuckin A.

See, that’s why it’s important. This guy is new and he has the goods. Have you ever seen him rattled? Nope. Think the powers that be thought this guy had a chance even six months ago? Nope. What we have here is a phenomena surpassing that of William Jefferson Clinton. I’m not kidding.

Big Bad Bill got in because Perot split the vote. Our Man is doing it without a natural disaster.

Look at me. In the eyes of America, he’s black. His last name rhymes with Osama and his middle name is Hussein. That’s what I said two years ago. I liked him but thought pigs would launch from my butt before he could be a contender. Much less capture the nomination. I was way wrong.

He kicked the ass of the Clinton Juggernaut. Very impressive. Much respect.

He just keeps coming. Man this guy is smart. The epitome of cool.

Again, ever seen him rattled?

Lemonade.

Drinks for my friends.

Tired of this shit.

Joe the fucking plumber.

That they foist such a clueless asshole on us thinking he will somehow convince the great unwashed, by virtue of being an ignorant member thereof, is maybe more of an insult to them and us than the selection of Moosewoman for VP.

Sheezus.

Joe The Plumber.

Seriously, in the past few days, this dipshit has hired a publicist, begun to negotiate both a book and a country record deal and announced he’s considering a run for Congress. That this man, who’s name is not Joe, no plans to buy a business he claims falsely is worth a quarter million annually and he’s not even a goddamn plumber, could somehow matter to the electorate disgusts me.

He’s an idiot. I would love to debate this guy.

My father would tell you this guy doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground.

The Republicans have a sweaty fist full of candy and that’s it.

Kids in a candy store without adult supervision.

Today, the would be Clown Princess, took a pathetic swing at Our Man with the revelation that Obama is allied with some guy named Rashid Khalidi.

Fuck off. They just don’t get this.

Khalidi said Wednesday, “I am not speaking to the media at this time, and certainly not until this idiot wind passes.” -CNN

Asked why the McCain campaign was bringing the matter up six months after the article appeared, an aide replied, “Because we are one week away from potentially electing Barack Obama.” -CNN

Such obfuscation is certainly not in the spirit of change.

“I don’t know what’s next. By the end of the week, he’ll be accusing me of being a secret communist because I shared my toys in kindergarten. I shared my peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” Obama said. -CNN

It’s bullshit. I cover my eyes and hope to find the time and place for a nap. Or a bowl of pasta. Raisin Bran Total. Grits with lotsa butter and pepper.

This brings us to Our Man’s “infomercial”. Audacious? Maybe, maybe not. Let me just observe though, that it was golden. Not about him so much as the message was about us. For the umpteenth time I was reminded of the power and subtlety in this man’s possession . Adroit intelligence, a nimble mind and an obvious compassion that extends to all of us. Not just Americans. It was actually pretty cool.

McFuckstain shows up on Larry King still pissing and moaning about how much money Obama has, where he got it and that he wouldn’t participate in Doubtfire’s favored architecture of town hall meetings. Dude, he kicked your pasty ass is in fundraising. Get over it. See, the Republicans hate this because they’re more than used to being the party with overwhelming amounts of money. They haven’t lost the battle for filthy lucre in decades and that is the impetus for their pathetic.

Goddamn they’re sore losers.

You suck! Shut the fuck up!

It is the calmness, the composure and the confidence exuded by Our Man, his surrogates and even his wife that I find so impressive. This guy is smart and he knows it. He owns that he’s twice as smart as the opposition and he doesn’t gloat. He just keeps coming.

They lie, distort and twist. He smiles, tells the truth and takes another step forward. He doesn’t blink. He’s fearless. He knows exactly what he’s doing. They throw a bowl of spaghetti at the wall as an experiment to see what sticks. A small amount of noodles and sauce ends up on his suit. He brushes it off, wipes his hands with a napkin and keeps coming.

He casually sips lemonade from an icy glass, wipes his lips with the back of his hand and takes a seat behind the desk in an office called Oval.

Drinks for my friends.

Been here. Done this, but we need to talk about it.

Proposition 8 seeks to amend the state constitution so as to make same sex marriage unconstitutional.

Two words. Fuck that shit.

I’m gonna pontificate upon something I don’t consider to be a theory, an opinion or even a point of view. I see it as fact.

My entire dianoetic is predicated on the truth that sexual preference, gender notwithstanding, is inherent, congenital. I believe we’re born with it.

Calculus then becomes simple arithmetic. It is nothing less than an issue of civil rights. All men (people) are created equal. It’s what we are taught to embrace as basic truth. Inalienable rights.

It is indeed racism.

All sorts of fundaments apply. Do unto others, content of character, life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, freedom from religious persecution, judge not lest ye be judged.

See, gay people aren’t bad people. There’s nothing wrong with them at all. They’re merely different. No more or less different than anyone else. Cut them and they bleed. Some like carrots. Some don’t. Some are dumb but statistically, more are smart.

Religious zealots and right wing idealogues would have us believe a plethora of outlandish things about gay people. They will protest on behalf of the heretofore sacred institution of marriage being exclusively intended as union between a man and woman.

1) The Gays encourage the extinction of the nuclear family.
Do the math. It’s not the homosexuals that are tearing away at that mythological “kernel” or “nut”. Market forces and the empowerment of women, you betcha.

2) The Gays are commie pinko sissies or big dykes that can kick my ass.
It’s true. I can’t help you here. They’re all so two dimensional. Nothing but caricatures really. All stereotypes apply.

Beyond the argument that marriage exists as the exclusive provenance of heterosexuals, they’ve got nothing.

Let’s examine this hallowed sacrament. Until the early part of the last century, a woman became a man’s property in the instance of marriage. Less than sixty years ago, certain races were not permitted by law to marry certain other races. The divorce rate in America consistently hovers above fifty percent. Now that’s a successful institution worthy of our profound deference and protection from any brand of dirty homo love.

It cracks me the fuck up when I hear people say shit like, “some of my best friends are……….fill in the blank.” Like they’re automatically imparted with some deep understanding of people who are routinely discriminated against for something over which they have no control.

Submitted for your approval, the sagas of Larry Craig or Mark Foley. What the hell, how about Richard Simmons or even Liberace? Rock Hudson anyone? From denial to repression. Sad.

Sad, because they’ve existed in a culture that would put up for popular vote, the power for them to be legally discriminated against. Even here in California, the most liberal state in the union, and home to the beloved Ninth Circuit, enough bigots gave enough of a shit to get it on the ballot.

Who cares and why? What are they so afraid of?

There it is. It’s fear isn’t it? Do you doubt that? It’s hard to understand because I’m not threatened. But I see it in the eyes of Americans. They glaze over when they’re afraid. All senses roll up and the sidewalk disappears. Nothing gets in or out.

Ever seen a caterpillar ball up?

What are they so afraid of?

Fuck me.

Drinks for my friends, dykes, sissies, faggots, lezbos…………….

A little levity to get us started. Salt to taste.

What’s black and white and red all over and has trouble getting through revolving doors? McFuckstain dressed as a penguin with a spear through his head, or Moosewoman, harpooned, but dressed as a nun.

No worries, they probably know about me.

Colbert has Yo Yo Ma tonight. Wasn’t but a month or so ago he had Rush. A few weeks ago, James Taylor and last week, Wynton Marsalis. Colbert doth flirt with the boundaries of cool.

The Yo Yo Ma performance inspired me to imagine a meat tenderizing hammer or a small cheese grader against my taint. I guess they played well but there wasn’t a balanced distribution of wealth. I mean frequencies. It was shrill. The interview was good though.

Ok. Onto it.

News reports say Palin is going “rogue”.

Internecine drama. Cocky up in here. Doesn’t like the way she’s been “handled”. Unhappy about her (National) rollout, Doubtfire aides quoted calling her a “diva”. This is rich. Proof in my mind of her inability to function in almost any enviroment that includes gravity. She sucks. She’s stoopid. Doesn’t get it at all.

Give her a show.

McCain’s aged ineptitude is now neon. Pyroclastic. Cool word. Poor judgement. Rash stupidity. Pandering and intellectual dishonesty. Unmindful patronizing of you and I. Adult Diapers.

The entire Republican party is a ship of fools. Consider who’s been jettisoned. It’s a list. DeLay, Frist, Santorum, Rumsfeld, Rove, Gonzales, Abramoff, Whitman, McClellan, Card, Fleischer, Ashcroft, Bremer, Brown, Libby and Powell. Just getting started………

Paul O’Neill, Franks, Richard Clark, Whitman, Foley, Larry Craig, Tenet……….

A promenade of pimps, punks, pedophiles, perverts and pirates. Sheezus, fuck me, there ought to be a law.

Snap!

Just today, Ted Stevens, slime festooned Senior Senator from Alaska (it’s a country full of rednecks way up north and a little to the west), was handed his horribly disfigured ass in a greasy paper sack with a side of leaking coleslaw and cold fries. That’s right, he was convicted on seven counts of felony corruption. Longest serving Senator in history. Prick.

Our Man drew over one hundred thousand supporters yesterday in Colorado. Five times the population of my hometown when I started school. I believe his largest domestic crowd so far. He’s on fire.

Doubtfire counted three thousand just three days ago in the very same city.

Still, it’s a contest. It is in their very best interest to keep it interesting.

There is no longer any doubt in my mind we are looking at the next President of the United States of America. My fate and yours is now inextricably linked to Barack Hussein Obama, Joe Biden, Harry Reid and the infamous Nancy Pelosi.

It’s a package deal kids, and not without expensive luggage.

With the exception of the inevitable egregious fuckery and malfeasance, which will occur on one level or another, the only thing standing in our way is ourselves. It is up to us. Entirely.

If the worst should happen, if there should be an attempt on justice a third time, well then, we should be prepared to take to the streets. They need to own that we will rise up. The third time is indeed the charm. There will be no theft. The people will decide. One way or The other.

Were it to happen, look for a movement of actual people similiar in size and strength to the inverse of current financial woes as compared to the S&L crisis of the late eighties. Sorry. In other words, tenfold. People are pissed. America’s malaise has grown on that scale for almost eight years now, any pushback will be at least as formidable. Both parties will participate.

“Fair warning Lord, don’t strike that poor boy down” -DLR

I honestly don’t anticipate such a scenario, but I’m quite prepared to go from outspoken to full blown activist. There are millions and millions ready to bust the same move. The broken Republican machine has not a prayer, not a hope in hell. You all know the trouble I’ve seen.

Step aside. Our Man is winning in unlikely states and enjoying a contest in others that haven’t considered a Democrat in decades.

Common citizens on the verge of prevailing. Joe the Plumber my ass. I think I saw an ignorant redneck.

Reality has a liberal bias. Liberals have a reality bias. There’s a healthy amount of gorgeous symmetry, given the context of American history, that a man half African and half Caucasian, is ripe to be our next President and the next leader of the free world.

There will be optimism again.

Actually, a man who will excite a sigh of relief from the world and arouse a sense of hope, even in people who hate us. Even in people who hate us.

Letterman’s got Bill O’Reilly, so I gotta wrap this up. Vote. Unless you’re stupid. Tell the boss you gotta vote and just go to Starbucks or Taco Bell or whatever if you haven’t been paying attention. Don’t shit in the river you fool.

Brainspank sees odds as nine to one for Barack Hussein Obama.

Drinks for my friends.

I’m a proud American. I’m a patriot. Love it or leave it. Don’t you dare criticize. What other reason could you possibly have for objecting to wiretapping and surveillance unless you got something to hide?

Hell, I ain’t worried.

Like I said, I’m a patriot and I love my country.

Fisa can blow me, it always goes south when appointed judges stick their progressive dicks in it. Liberal judges legislating from the bench are not needed in these circumstances. Our government is just trying to protect us. It’s what they do. It’s what they’re there for.

If you can’t trust them, who can you trust?

Liberals need to relax while patriots can feel good about it.

Sure, I smoked a little dope when I was younger, beat up the occasional sissy. That was years ago. I’m a Born Again, so I love everybody now. I say let people do what they want. Within reason. Less government.

Dangerous times call for extreme measures and there’s no more dangerous times than now. The Arabs and the terrorists hate us for our freedom and want to kill us. Islam is a violent and hateful religion. They’re all crazy, you can’t talk to them. Fucking ragheads. Why don’t they just leave us alone? What did we ever do to them?

If it ain’t Communism it’s some Godless sandnigger religion. They say Barack Hussein Obama is a Muslim. It wouldn’t suprise me. He’s the most liberal member of the Senate you know. He’s friends with terrorists who would kill our own. Sounds to me like he’s one cousin removed from hating America.

What are people thinking? A black Muslim terrorist for President? Over my dead body. It’s why there’s that amendment that let’s us keep our guns. He wants to spread the wealth and that’s socialism. It’s pinko. Every American has the same opportunity, depends on what you do with it.

God created us equal, it says so in the Bible.

Don’t come to me if you’re a crack smoking welfare mom. I work. Don’t cry to me about your son getting involved in gangs. Get him a job. Put his ass to work. I work for a living.

Some of my good friends are blacks. Nice people but I didn’t own them or beat them. What do they want from me? It just so happens, they’re black and I’m white. It’s like I should regret being caucasian. Why should I feel guilt for the way I was born?

If you ask me, the only way to solve the mess is to nuke the whole Godforsaken region. Turn all that sand into glass. Iran too. Let God sort ’em out. Trust in God.

Goddamn right we need change. We’re in a real crisis. Mexicans stealing our jobs. Outsourcing. Fuckin gas through the roof. Liberals want to blame the white man. The American businessman. Good honest Christians who are being taxed and regulated to death for just trying to make a buck and go to church on Sunday in decent clothes.

Leave these people alone so they can create jobs and save this country. They are heroes. They deserve and need that tax break.

All these foreigners need to speak American. Say the Pledge every day including “under God” and respect our God, the one this great nation was founded on. A Christian God.

Why is that too much to ask? A little respect, you know? This is the greatest country in the world. Take off your hat and put your hand over your heart when our anthem gets played.

Call me a redneck, I don’t care because maybe that’s what I am. I love my country and I love Jesus Christ. He was a carpenter you know.

I gotta tell ya just because “Joe The Plumber” isn’t a plumber and his name’s not Joe and he can’t afford to buy the business he works for, doesn’t mean he isn’t Joe Sixpack and a regular American with the same problems we all have.

The Bible says an eye for an eye and that’s why abortion doctors sometimes reap what they’ve sown. I don’t condone it but I understand. Even if it’s rape, it’s not up to us to decide. I mean, a life is a life. The bible says so. Unless of course, if that life has taken another, or sold dope, or is a traitor or a terrorist. Face it, what better deterrent is there than the death penalty?

People should understand that we’ll kill them if they screw up in America. Justice should be swift and mighty. Every war, including this one we’re in now, is for justice and truth and democracy. Even when it’s really hard, America does the right thing. Always.

You know, W. is a good man. He made a few mistakes. All Presidents do. Nobody’s perfect. He cares about us. I feel it. He’s a good man. I’d really like to have a beer with him. I bet he’s friendly and regular. Cheney’s a little spooky but he’s just the brains of the operation.

So whatever about the gays. It’s a choice and there are consequences. We all pay a price for bad decisions and that’s one of the great things about America. Accountability. No way will this American stand for faggots who want to soil the Christian institution of marriage. It’s holy and sacred. Can’t you people just leave it alone? What difference could it possibly make in their lives and their futures?

It’s a symbol. That’s why they want it so bad. It’s just silly.

Show me a homosexual and I’ll show you a liberal. Wanna bet?

It’s like they think it will make them legitimate somehow. Uh, not in the eyes of this patriot.

In a lot of ways, it’s like the French. We saved their asses in The Big One. What have they ever done for us besides sneer and act like we’re bullies and brutes? Overcharge us for wine and cheese. Ingrates. Why do we bother?

Those countries that sell their oil to the Chinese instead of us; it might be time to introduce them to the United States Navy.

McCain fought to save us from communism. He’s got my vote because he’s a genuine hero. This Sarah Palin is sassy and real and they’re both mavericks. I like that. I don’t care how smart Obama is. That’s not was this is about. I’ve always been suspicious of book learning as opposed to street smarts. This guy Obama eats arugula and fish eggs. He went to Harvard. I think his wife did too.

Tea with a pinky out.

By the way, Michelle Obama has been ashamed of America. Only recently proud. Can you believe this shit? Now what does America, the best country in the world, have to be ashamed of?

You know what else bothers me? What does it say to the rest of the world if America elects an African American Muslim for President? The world respects us. We are the example. America is the bar. There’s a ton of responsibility there and we’re gonna be held accountable.

The one thing I can agree with the liberals about is the idea that this country has it’s head in the shitter.

We can’t afford this second guessing and insecurity when it comes too choosing our leaders. A man with over two decades in the Senate. A man who’s crashed four airplanes and is still with us. A woman who shoots moose. A woman who’s been both Mayor and Governor of the wilderness. Both these Americans are patriots.

A woman who doesn’t break a sweat while spending more than twice what most American’s make in a year on two months worth of clothes. She wants to look good for us.

A man who’s not afraid to call his wife a “cunt” in public.

Drinks for my friends.

Despite her claim that she’s an ordinary hockey mom and all the disingenuous bullshit about Joe The Plumber, I’m not sure I can be bothered to care any less. Ridiculous. Whatever.

Maybe it’s appropriate, after all, among the Republican base are loads of rich white CEO’s and ignorant fuckin rednecks with an unparalleled sense of fashion.

It is a shame that twelve days before the most important political contest of our lifetime, such as this plays so prevalent a role beneath the proscenium. This sort of thing really is below us. It’s so very small. Stupid and small.

It does speak to her being a very bad actor.

What is salient, is Moosewoman’s consistent lack of understanding for the role and official duties of the office she seeks.

“But also, they’re in charge of the United States Senate, so if they want to they can really get in there with the senators and make a lot of good policy changes,” she added, in comments that contradicted the separation-of-powers principle enshrined in the US constitution. -AFP

Sheezus.

No matter how much makeup they trowel onto this self confessed pitbull, they’ll never be able to disguise the truth of how unfit she is for the job and just how woefully unprepared she is to ever be President.

She charged her state per diem when at home in bed. Charged her state for her entire family’s travel and accommodations. She altered expense reports to cover it. We’re talking about a sum of money here. A real Cinderella story.

An independent body without a tooth in it’s head found her guilty of breaching ethics and abuse of power.

Don’t even mention vaginitis. Or clam dip.

She sucks from every angle. Dumb and dirty. A Governor of Alaska does not a player in the Show make. Junior varsity at best.

Ever had clams on a pizza? If you’re local, try it at Damiano’s on Fairfax. Um, with garlic.

Yes, the decision you’re about make, the vote you’re about to cast, should be about the top of the ticket. Despicably, our attention is drawn to a Clown Princess*. If only she were a solid, somehow distinguished public servant with reputation and intellect enough for us to believe she’s able to steer steadily through some goddamn violent water.

No one really believes she is remotely capable. Maybe Bay Buchanan or Michele Bachmann. Crazy bitches both. Lying to themselves. And the ignorant. The Great Unwashed. They’re everywhere.

Someone like Dan Quayle would be perfect.

Did I mention Doubtfire is super fucking old?

Look for trouble on the day in Virginia. A source tells me Diebold has a firm grip there and there’s no paper trail to be had. Despite where we are in the polls, my optimism is cautious and ultimately mitigated by foolish optimism of days gone by.

I’ve watched the Darkside win the swordfight too many times.

These fuckers have no problem with ugly.

My source warns me about Florida and Pennsylvania too. No shit. Watch for it.

Market tanked again yesterday. Big suprise. Still searching for the bottom. I think it’s close. No telling how long we’ll have to feed there. Probably gonna be awhile.

“Don’t trust the appleman
He always lies
Don’t trust the appleman
He’ll watch you die” -Agnes Gooch

Drinks for my friends.

*getting carried away with nicknames

Politics no less interesting today than any other day. No reason to write about it. Not today anyway.

Who cares?

Except the socialist thing. You’ve got be fucking kidding me. Three quarters of these asshats don’t know what the word means. Most of them couldn’t spell it. See, Americans hear words like that and a certain number are preprogrammed to hear anything from communist to dictator.

More than a few hear faggot, homo and pinko.

Once again they play to the stupid, the ignorant, with words. Just words. The stupid are just that. Hopelessly vulnerable. Game birds on a reserve with clipped wings.

Richard Bruce Cheney standing there with the barrel of a twenty gauge up on his shoulder. Banging him in the head as sucks his flask though it were a golden teat. The front of his pants stained by his own piss.

Guess what happens next?

Anyway, my day sucked. The bloody fruit on top of the shit sundae was a good old friend treating my as though I were an idiot. Painful.

Now I’m furious.

Wierd when people spin on you like that. The lessons I’m learning by doing business with friends and colleagues are eye opening. There is no real glory in sales. It can be interesting and without a doubt challenging. It’s often ugly.

I was in a meeting last week where some guy they all respected was there to school us on sales techniques. He had some seven or eight point plan. To be fair, I walked in, in the middle.

It wasn’t why I was in my monkey costume that day. I was there on business. I had shit to do.

I both like and respect the big man. If I can make this work it will be a good fit. The big man, he’s a monster, requests my presence in this sales meeting, so there I am. The guy conducting made some points but there was much about him that made me want to wash my hands.

Again in fairness, I’m a compulsive hand washer.

Such a difference between pitching and closing on the phone and the art of the same in person. I don’t doubt I can do it but I’m not sure how eager I am.

I’ve got an ally and a mentor who gives me as much time as I need. He rocks. We understand each other. He brings a full tool box, loans me whatever I need. He has only one testicle.

Television:

“The Mentalist” -CBS

Crime scene. Some genius figures out there’s a secret safe room, finds the remote, figures out the code and finds the body in like the first two minutes. And he’s cheeky. Next.

I end up on a preseason Laker game against Charlotte. Both benches on the floor. I like basketball. Not tonight.

I turn the sound off. That works.

I understand there’s no good news in my mailbox, so I rarely check it.

My cat keeps peeing on my comforter.

My ass is broke.

I learned from television tonight that everyone has a nice house and a totally pimp office/work enviroment. I’m thinking this phenomena must be a big part of the current financial clusterfuck. They all seem to work in the public sector. They’ve all got huge ultra modern apartments and then they go home to a hidden rustic winery.

How can we afford that?

Throw three or four handfuls of baby peas (fresh or frozen) in with two cans of cream of mushroom soup along with a half can or so of tuna packed in oil, but strain the oil, some butter, sea salt, garlic powder and a fresh ground five pepper blend. Simmer depending on the peas (fresh or frozen) over low heat. Garnish with some shavings of parmesan and thinly sliced scallions. Serve in a shallow bowl.

Or. Grow some labia and chop a few tablespoons of shallots and sautee them in butter. Maybe toss in a few slivered almonds or pine nuts. A few spoonfulls from that can of tuna right before you add a glug of cheap dry white wine and set it to boil. Boil the wine almost completely off. Look for just a hint of crispiness on the nuts and translucence from the shallots. With any luck you’ve charred a little tuna. Add pepper and dill. Crank the heat down and stir consistently after adding the Campbells and peas.

Salt to taste bitch.

A shallow bowl.

A small plate of fresh white saltines and lemon slices sprinkled with capers and paprika. Or a fresh crusty bread with olive oil and a sweet vinegar.

Pour a decent blanc de blanc, pinot grigio or sauvignon blanc.

Touch your naughty bits.

Stuff your ears with moist cornmeal and drink whiskey through your nose.

Remind me to tell you about the guy on the balcony just now. I believe he was a foreigner, perhaps a terrorist.

Drinks for my friends.

Two weeks to go.

“The sun has gone down and the moon has come up,
And long ago somebody left with the cup,
But he’s driving and striving and hugging the turns,
And thinking of someone for whom he still burns.” -Cake

Limbaugh has rendered judgement, he’s determined that Colin Powell’s decision to both endorse and vote for Barack Obama is entirely about race. Despite Secretary Powell’s rather eloquent and thoughtful oratory on the matter, Rush Limbaugh, The Human Shitsmear*, has unilaterally declared a Four Star General, Former head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and Former Secretary of State, Colin Powell, to be fool enough to only see the color of a man’s skin. Fuck you Mr. Limbaugh, your days as a right wing clown entertainer are almost at an end.

Desperation on the part of McCain Palin has devolved, as predicted, into racism, fear mongering and lies with enough girth and mass to cast a damp an ominous shadow. It’s disgusting and reprehensible. It is not however, what I genuinely fear.

What I fear most is larceny. Twice, America has seen the Presidential election wrested from it’s hands by brazen zealots masquerading as mid-level election officials. Citizens assumed they were there to serve at our pleasure and protect us from the very thing they perpetrated. Katherine Harris and Kenneth Blackwell. Florida and Ohio respectively. Republican insurgents. American Traitors.

Fucking google them.

Understand the balance of power in this once great nation is more important to those who control it than you can possibly imagine. They will do anything. Whatever it takes, to exert prerogative and ultimately hold sway over the precariously fragile and all important sum of influence. Not merely in corridors hallowed, but in your minds and evil willing, your soul. They will blacken it as much as you let them.

Forgive me but Michele Bachmann has kaleidoscope eyes. She’s fucking Stepford spooky to a degree that makes Cindy look Fisher Price. I wish a pox on her campaign. Pustules on her supporters. Man I hope she loses her seat. I hear her opponent’s coffers are spilling over due to her recent windfall of ignorant fuckery. Wanna bet she goes away for a few weeks?

Two women, poignant examples of blackened, horribly charred souls. If you’re a regular reader, you know of at least a few more. Ann Coulter still draws breath. It’s getting ugly out there. Watch your back and pay attention.

Understand that I’m making fun. I do so because I can’t help it.

If it makes you laugh, it’s because it’s true.

See what I’m saying?

Drinks for my friends.

*new nickname alert

When the going gets weird, the wierd turn pro.

Dedicated to the memory of HST.

This whole thing is about to be a screaming, hungry, five year old nihilist with a full and oozing diaper, in a Burger King, sporting a flamethrower as well as a bleeding ass rash. It’s about to get regoddamndiculous up in here. Wait! Add swarming cockroaches. Rednecks and roundheads will go full tilt boogie as they realize they are going to lose their country to gasp! Liberals and a negro.

Let us hope that is the worst of it.

Yesterday, Doubtfire went after Our Man for outing Joe The Plumber and invading his privacy. You’ve got be fucking kidding me. I got nothing here. Not true, I have lots. Nothing usable though. Vitriol and utter open mouthed incredulity. Flames and super powers. Fucking fucks. The only thing I have to say is, who’s the idiot here? Him or you? Maybe Joe the Plumber? All of the above.

Yup, Nailed it.

My microwave has a whale in it. Sounds like that anyway.

I wanted to let you know that Michele Bachmann is a shameless cunt. Congresswoman from the sixth district of Minnesota. I’ve watched her on various networks spewing the worst kind of smack you can imagine in a painful Fargoesque, Minnesota dialect not unlike Moosewoman’s. She smiles and her grin is toxic. Venom and caustic fluid flood her bottom lip only to hang in snot like threads from her chin.

I’ve rarely been witness to such stupid coming from such an ugly human mouth.

“The issue before the American people is……Sarah Palin and her qualification, She easily has more qualifications than Senator Biden and Senator Obama put together if you look at executive experience, she’s been in an executive position for TWO YEARS” – Michele Bachmann on Larry King Live

Alaska ranks forty eighth in population, even when the territories are counted. Nobody lives there.

I bet I could learn to run the 7-11 in two days.

“Bachmann on Friday told MSNBC’s Chris Matthews that Barack Obama is not the only anti-American member of Congress. “The news media should do a penetrating exposé and take a look. I wish they would. I wish the American media would take a great look at the views of the people in Congress and find out: Are they pro-America or anti-America? I think people would love to see an exposé like that,” she said.” -dumpbachmann.blogspot.com

Can you say Joe McCarthy? I gleefully share with you that to date, her opponent, El Tinklenberg, unfortunate name aside, has raised nearly half a million dollars as a result of Bachmann’s splendorous stupidity.

Here’s more:

“[Pelosi] is committed to her global warming fanaticism to the point where she has said that she’s just trying to save the planet,” Bachmann told the right-wing news site OneNewsNow. “We all know that someone did that over 2,000 years ago, they saved the planet — we didn’t need Nancy Pelosi to do that.” -TPM

On the gay community and same-sex marriage: “This is a very serious matter, because it is our children who are the prize for this community, they are specifically targeting our children.” — Senator Michele Bachmann, appearing as guest on radio program “Prophetic Views Behind The News”, hosted by Jan Markell, KKMS 980-AM, March 20, 2004.

“Yesterday in a House hearing on the financial crisis, Rep. Michele Bachmann (R-MN) spoke on what caused the situation. To make her point, she read from an article called “How A Clinton-Era Rule Rewrite Made Subprime Crisis Inevitable,” written by Terry Jones in the right-wing publication Investor’s Business Daily.

The article criticizes the Community Reinvestment Act (CRA) for pushing “Fannie and Freddie to aggressively lend to minority communities.” Jones goes on to say that Clinton was misguided to push “homeownership as a way to open the door for blacks and other minorities to enter the middle class.” -thinkprogress.org

Like this shit is Clinton’s and black people’s fault.

See a pattern? It’s like Republicans welcome women as leaders, so long as they show potential for beauty queen of the right wing. Lockstep demagoguery. Douchebaggery. Counter to their very interests as a vagina owners. I guess they be whacky Christians first and foremost.

Oh my.

Can I tell you I just had an image of Cindy Stepford McCain going all cougar on Ann Coulter? I swear I’m not gay. I just had to wash my hands.

I am a carbon based being. So are most of my friends.

There’s more than a few among us that are based upon another element. Silocone? Like the Horta from the original Star Trek. Not like us at all. Rolling, emotional pizzas, longing for mother and in tremendous pain. Silicone based life forms.

That shit’s not right.

If feces were among the elements listed on the Periodic Table, I suspect one would need look no further.

Concentration of wealth.

“Redistribution of wealth” is what they sing about these days. An awesome example of opposite day, counter truth and pure bullshit. They piss and moan and lament that it’s socialism. Couldn’t it theoretically be the redistribution of our wealth back to us?

The literal intent of Republicans and Neoconservatives has been exactly that. The concentration of wealth. No more dramatic in world history than the last six years. Trust me, it’s true. Don’t make me do the math because I damn well will.

I can’t toss a pebble without finding exemplary ripple, proof, of what has been taken from us and distributed among the wealthy. The Middle Class is an endangered species. Like it or not, everyone needs the Middle Class. A republic cannot thrive or even survive without a robust but ordinary, honest and hard working majority. We are way too top heavy and beginning to lean trepidatiously.

I may have made that last word up.

Unfortunately, Hell hath seen the fury of America’s middle class and frankly, from Beelzebub on down, they aren’t impressed. Yet.

There is gorgeous irony in the Republicans lamenting voter fraud and elitism. Cause for rage when they throw RACE into the mix. Fuck these fucking ignorant cracker clueless bastards that haven’t been able to taste or even smell the shit sandwich they’ve been gnawing on for the last eight years.

Fools.

This shit is ridiculous.

***Now, pay attention. There is a reason I’m about to tell what I’m about to tell you and I get to it before the end.***

I began writing this particular blog on Friday evening. I spent some time on it last night with the intention of finishing this evening. Most of you are are no doubt aware, a typical impetus for my writing is quite often disgust. I do a lot of name calling, often employ crude and vulgar analogy, both in the interest of levity and entertainment. It’s cathartic, but all in the spirit of good clean fun.

Never have I remotely suggested physical harm be visited upon those whom I choose to rail against.

At least I hope not and if I did I bet it was funny.

You should also know that I have the ability to censor any and all comments left on brainspank. I’ve always chosen to let people say anything they like, utilizing the function exclusively to eliminate spam. I welcome dissent. I actually wish more people would disagree with me.

Since launching brainspank in December of last year, there has been only one exception to this. An individual calling himself “Trueblood” became so hateful, incendiary, vicious and alarmingly bigoted, I was forced to consider deleting his comments. I was torn, so like a true coward, I left it for my readers to decide.

It was unanimous, everyone who weighed in thought I should censor this guy. Since then, that’s exactly what I’ve done.

Predictably, the tenor of Trueblood’s comments devolved into pure hatred and threats of a personal nature. Whatever, I’m a big boy. I went on deleting and ignoring them and he eventually faded away. Today I recieved another message from Trueblood and I must admit, it gave me serious pause. So much so, I had to actually stop and give serious thought as to how to handle it.

One of the reasons I tolerated Trueblood for the time I did was I believed it was in the interest of my readers to see first hand that these kinds of people are out there. I’m allowing his comment this time around for that reason and for one far more important. To expose this individual to the authorities. First thing tomorrow morning, I’ll be contacting the Secret Service and providing them with his e-mail address etc. Up to them to determine whether he’s committed a crime, I cannot in good conscience, decide for myself that he should go unnoticed.

His specific words today and his pattern of behavior in the past, lead me to wonder just how imbalanced this guy is. I do know he’s dancing at the edge of both fear and rage.

For now, you can find his exact words in the comments of my last blog entitled “It’s True” posted on October Seventeen.

I wouldn’t mind hearing from you all on this.

By the way, former Secretary of State Colin Powell threw his weight behind Our Man today. Thought I’d leave you on a positive note.

Drinks for my friends.

Doubtfire was indeed funnier and somehow more caustic than Our Man at the Alfred E. Smith thing. He did very well. Props. His jokes were better, his timing superior and his sword sharper. Very funny.

Reminded me of the McCain I had reason to admire some eight years ago before he was beaten and left to die by the side of the road at the hands of the neoconservative trifecta of Rove and Dick-in-Bush.

He understands he’s got nothing to lose. Poor bastard.

It seems insane to me that I considered voting for him then. I did though, I thought about it. I remember standing in the shower considering it. We Democrats are silly like that, all pie in the sky for logic, sensibility and integrity.

Maybe that’s who he was back then, I don’t know.

History will see tonight as a dignified swan song. A brief whiff of the man he used to be. Sweet to be reminded of a man who has since lost his way. Well, kinda.

Our Man did just fine. Somewhat more self deprecating, a bit more humility, a blade not as sharp and ultimately less funny. Oh well. Can’t win ’em all. Water under the bridge.

Man I want this to be over. There is so much to be done. So much needs to be jerked from the now and put right for the future. Our future. Time is wasting. Atrophy. Deterioration and effects deleterious. Players and clowns and people not serious. Oh, the humanity.

Joe The Plumber, who’s not a plumber, evinced by Doubtfire twenty one times last night. Not a plumber, under a tax lien and not enough capital to buy a business worth only about a hundred thousand dollars. He would actually benefit from Obama’s tax plan.

It get’s worse. He compared Our Man to Sammy Davis Jr., yeah, his tap dancing skills. On top of all that, he looks to me like Joe Sixpack and Madame Skinhead procreated. Say it ain’t so Joe!

Good God you people are fucking stupid. It’s like when you’re really baked, you’re not sure if you said it or thought it.

I’m sure I saw it.

“It perfectly sums up the entire mythos that this conservative populisms functions on……….there’s this tremendous gap between the mythical creature “Joe The Plumber” and the actual real life guy. It shows that the modern Republican party etc……..are so much more invested in a caricature of ordinariness than they are in actual real life ordinariny people…..” – Christopher Hayes, Washington Editor of the Nation magazine on MSNBC with Keith Olbermann.

I think this brand of obfusicatory bullshit should serve as McFuckstain’s actual reckless and desperate legacy. Just like Dumbya and all the rest of the flat earthers. Begone you fucks. Enough is a fucking nuff.

And you thought I was gonna be nice.

Drinks for my friends.

The DOW down seven hundred thirty points today. Uh huh.

CNN says Doubtfire won the first half hour. I have a bridge for sale. When the gate opened, he stuttered and the ball fell to the floor. He drooled a little and recovered, but c’mon.

Cool calm and composed was Our Man. Nice. Substance long. We did fine.

Doubtfire actually looked at Our Man this time and engaged him. Best he’s done so far. Still, far less specifics and far more boiler plate bullshit stump rhetoric spewed by McCain than Obama. The “he’ll raise you taxes and I won’t” crap.

Frustrating in light of Obama pointing out over and over that his plan calls for cuts for nintey five percent of us. It’s like Doubtfire has pockets full of dead horses. Turns out he does. Poor bastard.

Forgive me the anger of what you are about to receive.

McCain takes upon himself to label Our Man’s tax policies “class warfare”. Were he to say that sitting next to me at a table I’d have swung for his mouth hard. The most massive redistribution of wealth in history has taken place under this administration and guess where the fucking money went? Check your goddamn pockets. After knocking him from his chair I’d be yelling and probably kicking. I’d be screaming words like AIG, Keating, Haliburton and Exxon/Mobile. This particular kind of egregious double contrary speak makes we want to go fucking nuclear. Fuck you McFuckstain, that’s a lie.

Anyway.

McCain’s hatchet and scalpel analogy was damn good. Props. That would be excellent.

Ayers and Acorn flatlined and Joe The Plumber was far from a game changer.

Either his legs or his lungs failed him. It’s fair to say that he stumbled upon his own energy crisis. He has neither the wit nor the wherewithal to keep pace with this Man of Ours.

The Ohio undecided focus group (UM’s*), hosted by CNN said it was that one, over the other one, by fifteen to ten. Yup. The first CNN polls are pretty wide and I’m done with all punditry at 8:23 pm.

It was the most interesting and entertaining of all the Presidential debates. McCain swinging harder than ever but never finding much more than air. He just couldn’t connect. Obama was smooth, extraordinarily skilled and athletic. Doubtfire acknowledged it a couple times by remarking on his eloquence. He did so with a sneer and it cost him. John McCain is an arrogant prick and people see it.

Today CNN’s electoral map shows Obama all but locked down for 277 electoral votes? 270 is the majority. Ahem.

David Gergen said in answering the question what does Mcain do now, answered, “Beat’s the hell out of me”. Big laughs. The Bootlicker threw the best he had and it wasn’t good enough. He went on to advise that Doubtfire should begin working to stop the Republican loss of blood in the House and the Senate, get positive on the economy and lose the Bill Ayers obfuscation tactic.

I’ll let you in on a little secret. Small, because most of you know or at least suspect. A lot of things being promised by either man, hoped for and aspired to, are not realistic. Probably not possible. Very unlikely. My focus is and has always been, on the intelligence and capability of the individual who would lead us out of this magnificent clusterfuck.

I am more secure than ever, that I and most Americans will ultimately do right by ourselves when it comes to these two men. Given the state of our Republic and of the rest of the world, I feel about as good as I possibly can about what is likely to happen next. I am pleased.

“Um’s” (unaccompanied minors)*, you know, independents and undecideds, will break for Obama. Not by a wide margin, but it will be more than enough to carry the day. Yes, that was an official brainspank prediction. We will know by midnight our time.

Here’s a keen and salient observation on my part. Their heads. They are opposite in shape. Doubtfire’s is bottom heavy. Fatty jowls vs. a rather sizable upper cranium. I’m just saying.

Seriously, who’s your Daddy?

Drinks for my friends.

*new nick name or nomenclature

So the market rebounded dramatically today.

Again, I’m no economist.

I am here to testify that common sense can and must be applied to every situation. So, at the risk of sounding pessimistic, I say so what?

Paul Krugman won the Nobel for economics today. He’s sure Dumbya is a retard.

Volatility IS the problem. Inconsistency IS the nemesis. Symptomatic of emotional instability on a foundation that is rotting. Eroding. Today we witnessed some euphoric sentimentalism. The economy is bipolar, perhaps even schizophrenic. At this point, it climbs hills only to tumble down the other side.

Common sense indicates to me that the market has yet to find bottom and the gains of today won’t mean dick within a month. Irrational exuberance. Denial ain’t just a river, it’s the season and the reason for the vulgarity of most things these days.

An economic clusterfuck years in the making is far from vulnerable to a single magic bullet no matter how pure the silver of the slug. Such precipitous decline cannot be undone or even mitigated by one day of activity on The Dow; hardly the Holy Grail of economic indicators.

Unemployment flirts with nine percent in places like Ohio. Auto stocks at a fifty year low. Record foreclosures and markets across the world reeling, careening. We keep talking about the cash we’re going to throw at the fan but we simply don’t have any and metric tons of shit have already hit that same fan. What little paper we can gather will probably just stick.

The hangover has just begun. America has regained a tenuous purchase on consciousness only to learn that even the hair on our head aches with vengeance and what may be the cause of our awakening is the oxygen from the respirator or the fact that our balls itch like mad.

I’m sorry to tell you that we’re still screwed nine ways to Sunday and from hell to breakfast. Drastic measures are no less vital than they were last week.

Sooner or later the fan will have to be cleaned.

By the way, why’s the NYSE open on Columbus Day? Even the banks were closed in recognition of the Grand Pooh Bah champion of revisionist history. Columbus Day is a mere symbol of American douchebaggery. By most accounts, Columbus tortured, raped and pillaged his new world. Amerigo Vespucci most likely discovered or at least recognized North America and guys like Leif Ericson were here a half a millenium before.

Let us not forget the rightful owners, the indigenous, the native Americans whom we would spend centuries slaughtering while cramming Christianity down upon. Today I drink to them.

Whatever.

I’m still excited about Our Man and he’s doing better everyday. Hope and Change. He offers nuanced and reasonably rich conversation on our economy. He is cool and consistent. Wisdom, restraint, discipline. By contrast, McCain is an ugly sightless carp half out of the pan and flopping while a blind eye burns. Talk of firing staff three weeks before the election.

Even I have to confess that despite the quality of Barack’s ideas, there seems to be little talk of how they will be funded. I don’t expect him too get too specific as he’s already talking over a lot of American heads, but I sure would feel better if he would just tell everybody our ass is broke and this is gonna suck for a month or so of your least favorite day of the week.

I would welcome that honesty from Doubtfire as well.

Sooner or later the fan will have to be cleaned.

Fuck me, everyone should be saying it. Do they think it’s a secret?

Drinks for my friends.

My girls sit on each arm of my couch, grooming. Benevolence. They could not be more opposite. Physically, temperamentally, even how we interact and the ways they tell me what they need or want. You’re never alone if you have pets.

I’ve let the nail on my left thumb grow. It weighs an outrageous amount. Subject to subtle surges of gravity. I can’t wait to clip it but I understand exactly why I’ve let it go this long. It offends me. I hate it. I can’t help it. My arm tingles with the anticipation of eliminating it. Sometimes at night, the thumb aches from it’s weight.

I must do it now. Right now. I loathe it. The need for relief from the mass I’ve allowed for has reached past solvency. One compulsion usurps another.

Giant, pastel green grasshoppers suddenly suffer mass abdominal explosions, yielding orange flavored Tick Tacks as soft and sticky shrapnel. Barely any sound.

I’ve done it. I’m lighter. Didn’t wait until I got outside. Sheared it off over the kitchen sink with giant steel toe incisors. Not sure the nail is short enough but I’m relieved. It was a wet fish I stuffed into my pants on purpose. Ocular organs of grasshoppers crisping and popping underneath my eye teeth. Ants and mosquitos mingle in my gullet sharing heartburn. They dance in my colon and I shit like a goose.

I need a shower.

Cindy Stepford McCain is creepy. She’s powered by yellowcake uranium. Just look at her eyes. She trips the lights fantastic with Lucifer hisownself.

The roof of my mouth bothers me. I could feel that nail in my mouth and nose. It made the tops of my feet itch; I almost wore a hole in one last night.

I lean back to discover The Gurry right next to me. She is flawless and wise. I rub her head just how she likes. If I’m afforded an afterlife she will be there. I’m hoping she’ll finally talk to me, I want to ask her about her moods and if she really was watching TV all those times. Beddy will tell me really bad jokes about latin homosexuals. The Bean will moderate while wearing those half glasses. Can’t wait to see her.

Men and women are so different it’s often tragic.

I wonder how far I could leave life behind while still being able to stay connected. I ask myself this question and realize I’m halfway there.

I just need cable, high speed internet and groceries conveniently accessible, all from a lower than alpine region. The side of a not too steep mountain. Ideally, a fresh source of water within a walkable distance. A well. A generator. Some solar panels. Plenty of tools. Morphine. Lots of beans and pickled vegetables.

Sometimes, I understand the need to surrender to certain things to be at peace.

I should go to bed but my dreams will have their way with me.

A fix of apathy is needed. It’s usually pretty easy to come by. Not today.

I know why I’m in this mood but I’m not gonna tell you about it. Nothing I can’t solve, get over or get through.

Bitches can’t hold they smoke, that’s what it is.

“I tell them there’s no hurry, I’m just sitting here doing time.
I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round.
I really love to watch them roll.
No longer riding on the marry-go-round.
I just had to let it go.
I just had to let it go.
I just had to let it goooooo.” -John Lennon

A chihuahua has dominated the box office for two weekends and that Russian rocket is way cooler than our Saturn Five. Russian rockets are way cooler and more sinister than American rockets.

Fall is here, it’s my favorite season. Candles, fireplaces and deciduous trees in the San Fernando Valley.

Clarity is a commodity in every grand prize. At least it should be.

I think I need to walk it back a little.

Drinks for my friends.

How ironic and sublimely irresistible is it that McCain has been forced to meliorate this beast of hateful bigotry of his own devise? Yesterday he was forced to disabuse a confused elderly woman of the notion that Our Man was an Arab. Later in the day, he found himself in the position of admitting to a rabid supporter that an Obama Presidency was nothing to be afraid of and that Obama was a “decent family man”.

So ugly and ignorant have his supporters become, they engage with vitriol and flirt with violence. Rampant ignorance and unfounded superstitious dread. A perilous lack of enlightenment.

The vulgarity of racism and slander fomented by the McFuckstain/Moosewoman campaign has with sweet justice, circled round to exact a pound of flesh from the asses of its propagators. Beyond deserved as well as another nail in their cheap box of pine.

The Republican fear machine is collapsing upon itself. They cannot afford to spend time wiping themselves while the damage they’ve wrought morphs into a catalyst for their demise. They’ve been stepping on their dicks since McCain announced Palin. America begins to understand the monster is they and not the behemoth invented by them.

It’s the end of their world as we know it and I feel fine. Fucked from hell to breakfast. I cannot stop smiling.

Then: “Palin violated state ethics law by trying to get her former brother-in-law fired from the state police, a state investigator’s report for the bipartisan Legislative Council concluded Friday.

“Gov. Palin knowingly permitted a situation to continue where impermissible pressure was placed on several subordinates in order to advance a personal agenda,” the report states.” -CNN

Nail number what, in their flimsy box of pine? My girlfriend and I couldn’t help but overhear a party of people led by an aging actress today at lunch. Familiar to me but I’m not sure from where, she announced to her friends that Palin was no mere Dan Quayle, she pointed out Palin wasn’t just stupid, but evil and dangerous. I couldn’t help but give them a thumb up when they caught me listening.

On the way out they approached our table and an older gentleman offered that the whole mess makes him cry. He used words like tragedy and awful. He said he wasn’t so concerned for himself as he didn’t imagine he had much time left but he worried about us “young people”.

Their passion and sincerity touched my heart profound. They moved us. They wore fear on their faces. A sweet and sobering moment. I told them I thought we’d all be fine, I’m confident the bad guys will lose this time I told them.

This whole thing is a nightmare. The two of us talked about how nice it would be to simply wake up when it’s over. Inauguration day 09.

Poached salmon and field greens with red onion, tomatos, capers, candied lemon slices and a dill dressing. Crab ravioli in a tomato creme sauce, paired with a Honig sauvignon blanc.

Tonight she asked me sarcastically, while watching some feel good movie on cable, why the greedy businessman can’t win once in a while.

I said baby, that only happens in real life.

Later I shat gravy for an hour.

Drinks for my friends.

This is crazy. World markets are convulsing. Lose the image of a spasm. This is flopping on the floor foaming at the mouth crazy epileptic shit. Jam something in the maw to prevent tongue swallowing and pull the furniture away, it’s a grand mal baby.

Dumbya shows up on television like a deer in the headlights. This shit is way over his head.

In concert, banks of the world moved yesterday to simultaneously slash prime by half a percent. That’s five hundred basis points, as a neophyte banker I can tell you that’s a shitload of lucre. Money is traded on a hundredth of a percentile. This level of cooperation is not just huge, it’s completely without precedent.

Still hemorrhaging though. Bleeding badly. The Dow down a hundred eighty nine yesterday and over six hundred seventy points today.

The bottom is around eighty three hundred. Trust me. I have it on good authority. That’s a scary number. I know people who’ve lost everything already. They have no choice but to stay in.

This crisis will lay a finger on every single one of us. If it hasn’t already.

Truth is it has, and it’s not done.

American industry cannot lose forty percent of it’s value without far more than a ripple breaking across the country. It’s a tsunami that will wipe people out. I doubt America will end up a third world nation, but we’ll a see a huge increase in the homeless and poverty in general. Get ready for desperation and panic. Soup lines.

Lots more ugliness on the way.

I almost don’t care what you know. I know what I know. This prick Dumbya inherited a surplus and a balanced budget. We were fine, we were golden. Golden. The thing is, his eyes are way too close together. You can tell by looking at him that he’s stupid. Listen to him and it’s obvious he’s a dumbass.

The proof is in the now bloody pudding. It’s the biggest mess we’ve ever seen. At war in two countries for now at least, and an economy literally eroding by the day. By the day. The American domino keeps on giving as we see world markets slide with increasing velocity towards a pileup that portends to clog arteries major and minor. Asian markets are shitting pants as we speak.

If you voted for Bush, you’re an idiot bordering on asshole. If you intend to vote for McCain, you’re an ingnorant idiot, stupid asshole motherfucker. Despicable and dumb. Clueless and wortheless. The mouth breather at the pump unable to remember a zipcode. When I see you, I hope you haven’t procreated.

I don’t doubt you’re boring.

Certainly, this should command our attention by delivering a focus onto the crisis at hand in context of the Presidential race. McFuckstain and Moosewoman are suddenly delighted to exhume the corpse of a deceased and rotting nag for to flog in public. They do so with eyes bloodshot from venality and a frantic spraying of spittle.

Sheezus.

Ugly. Hard to watch. Dispiriting, demoralizing and ultimately detrimental.

They really should be ashamed, if for no other reason than their naked, vainglorious audacity.

Meanwhile, Our Man continues to exhort on the issues in general and and elucidate on the economy in particular. He remains above it. He attacks with vigor and his strikes are surgical, but always on issue, never personal. I am pleased and inspired. Obama consistently endeavors, despite every low blow, to remain on the high road. He is a class act.

Stewart has fucking Deniro on tonight. How cool is that?

Someone yells “kill him” at an event. McCain says nothing. He calls him “that one” in a nationally televised debate. Discourse off course. Reckless and irresponsible. Amateur hour at the feckless cafe. Farting in public. Blowing your nose over your date’s food. Shit running down your leg.

Fuck these guys. They act like they’re new.

Drinks for my friends.

I don’t know.

I was looking for more.

No wild swings, no haymakers. Certainly no knockouts.

Our Man was more dignified and in control. The composure of restraint served him well once again. Obama prevailed, but not so clearly or decisively, as last time. A net loss for Doubtfire, the salient reason, he’s behind in the polls and sliding. The onus was clearly on McCain to impress us. Didn’t happen.

The Bootlicker did a lot of flatlining.

I expected and even predicted that Our Man would throw more power punches tonight. I didn’t know then what I know now. He didn’t need to. It’s changed since their last meeting. He is winning.

I don’t mean to impart that I found it less than interesting. It was compelling.

Just talked to my Mother and her sentiment is more or less congruent with mine. She yelled at me for interrupting the post game analysis.

Cindy Stepford McCain said today that Obama has “waged the dirtiest campaign in American history,”. Fascinating. An insane thing to say in light of what the entire McCain family was subjected to at the hands of the unholy trinity of Bush, Rove and Cheney in two thousand. Amusing, in light of Palin’s recent remarks insinuating Our Man is some kind of terrorist.

That statement, by the actual Mrs. Doubtfire, smacks of raw and unmitigated desperation.

Also telling is the fact that McCain walked away when it was over and Our Man and Michelle stayed to engage.

Fresh diaper?

We are in good shape.

I can tell because they’re stepping on their own vagina lips to embarrass themselves. Desperation always smells worse than ass. More like many asses. Like a sewer. It’s why desperation rarely attracts much more than pity.

I need to address something else here. Forgive me, it’s not the first time. The question of why, if Obama is so clearly on the right side of America’s concerns and issues, why isn’t he ahead by twenty points? Economy in the toilet, unpopular war and McCain and his party are entirely culpable. It’s been an underlying theme since the primaries.

Why was it such a barfight for this man to close the deal and knock Hillary the fuck out?

Let’s just forego the requisite polite and feigned naivete here. It’s because he’s black and racism is alive and well here in the greatest country on earth. Were he a white man, it would be over but for the shouting.

The good news is, he appears to have left that brand of blasphemy behind. Not entirely, but you see it.

Indeed, America sees not a black man, certainly not a terrorist or a muslim. America sees a man. A strong, principled, intelligent, capable American man with the courage of his convictions. Congratulations my fellow citizens. The majority of us have seen fit to judge a man based on the content of his character rather than the color of his skin. We have begun to realize a dream, the shape and size of which could propel all human beings further into this century with prosperity and equality unlike we’ve ever seen.

It doesn’t suck that the competition is the Keystone Fucking Cops.

Forgive my enthusiasm. It’s just that the unthinkable is damn near at hand. A shift of this archaic and obsolete paradigm. It looks like we may have had enough. Pretty goddamn exciting if you ask me.

Too bad they had to screw the pooch this violently to even risk losing power. Too bad about the mess Our Man is walking into. Don’t forget, getting elected President is like getting a record deal; not the end all but the very beginning. We hope.

Drinks for my friends.