I’m shooting from the hip on this one.

I saw a headline. No TV, no print media and no internet.

The sum total of what I know is that one of the biggest three dingleberries ever to dangle in the asshair of America has acquiesced to being troweled off.

Bush’s Brain takes a powder.

Now that’s compelling.

I’m guessing he couldn’t take the heat. His kitchen had become a furnace for felonious neocons. That’s my bet. No way a man of his ilk would abandon his post if his demise wasn’t otherwise imminent. He’s been with Dumbya since the 70’s I think.

Unlike Dumbya, not a stupid man by any means. An egghead though. Without a doubt. A sulfer stench. He emerges and disappears with a fetor of decay; a cloud that’s accompanied him with violent pungence for the last few decades. Since ’06 his stink has become greasy and palpable.

His nickname is “turdblossom” you know.

What I’m saying here is that this man has sucked forever. Maybe from birth. He’s the architect of this wasteland left of America. His ideas and his execution.

Well, he and Darth.

And he gets to just leave it all behind.

I imagine he has plenty of money. Rest assured he’ll suck his last breath from underneath sheets of a very high threadcount.

There is no self respecting historian that could possibly paint this prick favorably. At least he has to endure his legacy until the Earth claims him for worm food.

Poor sightless primitive snakes.

The good news. This means Dick-in-Bush are now wandering the landscape of this once great nation sackless. There is still a phallic protuberance; that would be Cheney. There is still a gimp in some submissive leather harness; that would be Bush.

Ha! They are bagless. No testosterone drip.

What was once an impenetrable steel fortress is now a decaying wooden fence around a windblown shack in need of more than paint and plumbing.

They are done.

Within the next six months, the roof will fail from rot. Elvis fans will trespass looking for souvenirs.

But they will leave a legacy of death, injustice, arrogance, stupidity and a vacuum of compassion that will dwarf that of any previous administration of this once great country.

Ruin and waste is their wake. Whether Cheney and Bush manage to weather the next 18 months remains to be seen. Regardless of that outcome, their legacy of devastation will not change.

Rove exits stage left not a moment too soon. We remain however, fucked.

Drinks for my friends.

Aug. 10, 2007
Ok seriously. What’s the deal with our media?
Am I wrong or was Cronkite not only an excellent journalist but a responsible one. Anyone remember Eric Sevareid? Murrow was clearly a tough act to follow but these two guys I remember.
By no means do I discount the others of that era.
Am I wrong, or were they all pretty respectable back in the day?
Ooooh! ABC science correspondent Jules Bergman? Anyone? I had relations with his daughter. Seriously. She was hot and sultry. And whip smart.
Certainly, anything I’m about to say about the sport of journalism has it’s exceptions. Every rule does. Mr. Olbermann is one of those exceptions. Randi Rhodes, Greg Palast, Tom Hartman, there’s far more than a handful.
They don’t piss me off. Therefore, I have little to say about them other than at least the complimentary, if not a slice of sheer idolatry.
We’re done here.
Onto the subject at hand:
OUR FUCKTARDIAN MEDIA!
Anybody else notice the sheer brilliance of Jon
Stewart’s assessment of the candidates from both
parties and his take on the ridiculous syrup of media coverage not
just poured generously but trumpeted by a chorus of
media vessels simultaneously glugging while emptying the other night?
That’s a goddamn sentence, yes it is.
He did it comprehensively, accurately and gin through
the nose funny in twelve minutes flat. An intellectually honest take on the state of the race and the irresponsible, open sore inducing mainstream coverage.
And his point was well taken. It’s fucking
ridiculous. His last look at the camera before
commercial is fierce and tells us that
he wasn’t fucking kidding.
He’s saying it’s been a loooong time since the media
took it’s responsibility seriously or took any
responsibility at all.
Television news in America is a giant and dangerous
fucking joke.
This week it seems to be about Nicole Richie. I’m a fan of her father, actually worked with him once. A sweet horsefaced man with a lot of talent.
Forgive me, I don’t give a mad fuck about his daughter.
While we’re on the subject of forgiveness; this bridge in Minnesota is a tragedy without question.
I’m over it. I didn’t know any of them and I’m not sure I care about the hundreds of bridges likely to toss us into a school of Great Whites within the next twenty seven years due to lack of oversight or overt fraud.
Am I gonna swim or hike across whatever the bridge spans?
In a pigs ass.
Yet we still lap at the sick sweet syrup. We love it.
We tolerate it socially and lick a
little up in private. It’s chronic, insidious and
reiterative.
Take Cheney on King a few nights ago.
Boilerplate Cheney.
The most outrageous and elaborate falsehoods. Really
a howler.
Honestly, I was entertained.
That man lies with more conviction than anyone I’ve
seen besides Dumbya, and I’m not sure Dumbya knows he’s lying most
of the time.
Darth called the Alberto Gonzales clusterfuck a partisan
witch hunt. Said Al is a good guy.
You have got be fucking kidding me. Half of his own
party wishes this asshole would disappear.
Al, is an arrogant pinhead.
Ha! He’s our attorney general.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
I kinda like Larry King, he looks a little like Beavis to
me and Cheney makes a swell Butthead come to think of
it.
Or is it the other way around?
Anyway. Larry does the best he can but he’s no
journalist. That’s not saying much. He’s the CNN
equivalent of people magazine.
Some of the most honest journalists on TV are comedians. That’s sad
but I’m grateful for them. They’ll end up folk heroes.
I don’t doubt that this dumbing down is
deliberate. For the sake of brevity, let me just share
that my conviction is primarily a result of my not being
a dipshit.
Yet, Americans are complicit. Despite the designs of the
evil empire, our acquiescence is the fusion that makes
a combustion almost inevitable.
It sickens me to watch the lazy minded imbibe the sanitized zeitgeist offered up by a mainstream media so infected with hubris and powerlust that they don’t even have time for what’s actually important and maybe even germane to the events of right fucking now.
They are far too busy emptying drool buckets and getting us to buy shit that’s either of no use, bad for us, or both.
What I’m saying here is that combustion is upon us.
It’s happening.
There is an unjust and virtually unexplainable war. There is real potential for much, much more. Half our damn navy is in or around the Gulf.
Kids. If this one starts, it’s gonna be huge.
Our economy is showing the first fractures in a series
of events that will end up being sustainable only by a
class of working poor and a class of impossibly
wealthy.
Highest foreclosure rate in decades. Banks and
lending institutions starting to panic over their
depth in the subprime lending market. Inflation is here. Unavoidable
after the surge in oil.
Then there’s the fact that as a country, we owe more
than we make.
Don’t forget that everyone loathes us. Don’t forget, the rest of the world factors in our meat puppet president when evaluating us.
Actually, remember that the rest of the world hates us.
By design the middle will implode. The now heavy Top
will collapse on the Bottom and the Middle will spray
out of all four sides.
As the the social and moral pendulum swings back to
the left, to the West, the yang to the yin continues
it’s long planned trajectory east, towards the twelfth
century.
According to schedule, we’ll be completely powerless by the time we’re liberated.
Unless we’re careful.
Drinks for my friends.

I stand prepared to renounce my party.

A while back the distinctions began to blur.

Not so subtle a shift as it appeared to be at the time.

I did begin to understand some time ago that they’re all about the dollar. All of them. So yeah, I get that.

Lust, greed and glory.

Still, I imagined some to be more courageous than others. More compassionate. Maybe even protecting the plutocracy for the sake of the American worker. Altruistic sacrifices? Something along those lines?

Then there was Joe Lieberman. Two faced prick. Whenever he’s on TV, I can see right through him.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

They can all blow me.

A massive amount of human energy and money spent in an attempt to steer the listing vessel towards shallower waters so that repairs could begin.

Flesh could be mended. The killing and dying, at least not participated in or perpetuated by, our own children anymore.

We tried.

We changed the majority in the legislative branch. It took an Everest of effort. So much human will exerted for not one fucking thing.

Not one fucking thing. Not one. Nothing.

I am naive.

Over the weekend, congress placed the implementation of warrantless wiretapping largely at the behest of the executive branch dipshit of the month and pinhead crony of the year, Alberto Gonzales.

You have got to be motherfucking kidding me.

Then they all, including the spineless, snot running, watery eyed and sackless fucking democrats, ran off to their fucking vacation homes, grilled shrimp and drank crisp sauvignon blanc and got to know the new puppy.

You assholes. The battle all along has been that the neocons bypassed FISA and therefore broke the law.

All that time and energy spent. Sincere concern and awakening on the part of the electorate to give you the majority, TO EFFECT CHANGE!

And you. The majority. Wilt, after one goddamn round on war funding and give the neocons a legal way around FISA before you go away to sleep in for a month and feel good about cleaning the leaves out of the pool one morning.

I renounce my ship of fools.

If I did my job as well as you do yours, I wouldn’t have one.

There’s this tiny middle eastern guy with a pompadour who seems to be in charge next door at the 7-11. He’s got charisma and a good voice. I need to get his name so I can write it in on all the ballots I fill out in ’08.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Drinks for my friends.

I am sick to death of all the excuses. Not feasible. Too much of a distraction. We don’t have the votes. I am afraid. It’s too much of a longshot and what about the backlash if we fail? Do I look fat?

Impeach them now and start with Cheney.

Our Founding Fathers faced far more formidable odds. They didn’t question whether it was doable. They had no choice because their collective conscience wouldn’t allow them to do anything but what was right.

The leaders of the civil rights movement faced incredibly vicious opposition and it was never a factor in their motivation to pursue justice. If anything, they were emboldened by it because it was proof of their righteousness.

Our executive leader and vice executive have clearly and consistently violated what is probably the most important document and system of beliefs ever produced, consented and adhered to by humankind.

I’m talking about The Constitution of The United States of America.

The fight against them them should be tireless, indefatigable, focused and unswerving. Instead we are are told that it’s not an appropriate time and it may be politically inconvenient to storm the fortress these arrogant men of lust, greed and glory hide inside of.

Are you kidding me?

History is filled with people who fought for the right thing, regardless the chances of prevailing. Despite personal risk of even death. The blood that has been spilled in defense of these concepts would fill the very chambers our elected representatives work in every day to the point where it would erupt from every window and door in every office building on capitol hill like a gusher of oil powerful enough to blacken the sky.

Tyranny is simply not acceptable and tyranny is what we have.

Tyranny: arbitrary or unrestrained exercise of power; despotic abuse of authority. -dictionary.com

Now you tell me, Mrs. Pelosi, Mr. Reid, Mrs. Feinstein, Mrs. Boxer and Mr. Conyers, what are you waiting for? What about you, Mr. Specter or you Mr Leahy? Is it just not a good time? Are you afraid you might not prevail?

Mrs. Clinton and Mr. Obama, are you too busy with your campaigns to participate in what future generations may very well judge to be the tipping point in America’s history? The point where too few did too little and our once great nation was allowed by virtue of your inaction to slide into chaos , perpetual war and perpetual raping of economies and ecosystems for the avarice of the few?

The inevitable conclusion finds the Earth a scorched and radioactive cinder that orbits the sun for thousands of years doing it’s damndest as a mother to repair the damage and never produce offspring as terrible and destructive as human beings again.

Wouldn’t you rather wake up one morning knowing you at least tried to do what was right as opposed to doing nothing because you were afraid?

Or that it wasn’t convenient?

The great unwashed are awake. In ever increasing numbers they are asking, demanding, that you put petty business aside and do the right thing on behalf of them that put you there.

Fear is an excellent force multiplier, if you continue to do nothing, it will at the very least, bite you in the ass. If you’re not careful, it will leave you in a desperate wake.

WE THE PEOPLE implore you to stop this.

Further reading

Now go here and do the right thing.

As most of you know, I enjoy working a little blue. You know, rampant vulgarity to shithammer my point home? I restrained myself this time while trying to provide for those of you who can’t be bothered to construct sentences and stuff.

I would be proud if you followed that last link from Josh and sent the text as it appears above to your elected representatives. If not, I would still be pleased if you took advantage of the very articulate ones Josh has been kind enough to provide.

Promise to look for me when I go missing……….

Drinks for my friends.

I’m pretty sure nougat is that stuff underneath the
peanuts and caramel in a Snickers bar. I just saw a
commercial with a cutaway of an actual Snickers bar.

Cutaways rock. Remember those ones of the Nina the
Pinta and the Santa Maria? Or a submarine? Remember
those life size plastic torsos with removable organs?

Anyway.

Everybody ok?

Good.

I like soup. The trortilla soup at CPK blows my skirt
up. Today I had the soup and the mixed green salad
with pears and walnuts. For five bucks I added
gorganzola AND shrimp.

I sat at the bar.

I had a glass of Nobilo sauvignon blanc.

I read the La Weekly and Valley Beat or whatever it’s
called. I wondered about all the pot clinics busted
this week and the ubiquitous ads they had already paid
for.

Prior to that I dropped off my preamp with a bad
capacitor and a ridiculously expensive CD player at
the house of my audio dealer for repair. I also go
to therapy and wine tastings.

I’m one metrosexual that can kick yer fuckin ass.

I love going to this guys house. We turned out the
lights in the kitchen and watched the commie capacitor
arc in my naked preamp.

The Fish thinks we engage in dick mingling.

He can be a little cranky and he admonished me for not
knowing that preamp tubes don’t need to be biased.

Then we went down to the listening room. You should
see this room.

I’m a former studio rat and I liked my control room
cold and dark-the better to see all the pretty lights
on all the pretty gear and for me to stay alert.

Being the geek that I am, I’m always aware immediately
upon entering a room that’s had some acoustic
treatment. No weird reflections and an overall
anechoic effect. Odd harmonics at a minimum, you know.

Then there’s the gear. There’s a tube power amp on
the floor that I swear looks like a small block V8.
Four tubes exposed in their sockets on either side at
a forty five degree angle. Power chords as thick as
your wrist snake around the wooden floor.

Angular, pretty slabs of sophisticated electronics and really ugly stuff that wouldn’t be out of place in a mid twentieth century typing pool.
Like that ad agency where Darrin from Bewitched worked.

Dali Megalines, beautiful cabinetry, at least eight
feet tall, like fifteen drivers in each side. Ribbon
tweeters flanking what looks to be six inch cones
all the way down.

You should see these fucking speakers.

Elliot played me some Janis Ian on vinyl once on those
Dalis. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d
ever heard in my life. A gorgeous recording, rendered
three dimensional with all the texture and nuance my
brain had the capacity to distinguish. Awesome.

I love sound. I used to get paid for making it. I
own a pair of Dalis. Not the eight footers though.

Before that I got a haircut.

The same woman has been cutting my hair for almost
twenty years. There was a couple handfuls of Carson
City hopefuls in this big city back in the day and she
cut us all.

I’m the last one.

I see her once a month. I’d prefer every three weeks
but she’s semi retired and has two kids. She once
told me that “a vacation is a drink in your hand and
something pretty to look at”.

We talk about politics, who I’m banging if anyone, the
last time she was “on the pot”, whatever. I adore
her. I wonder if she knows how much I like getting my
hair cut in that bustling little shop.

Every once in awhile I show up hungover. Before she’s
done she let’s me know that she knows. Her name is
Suzanne. She’s a very good woman.

Before that I made time to read, have a smoke and
people watch at the Starbucks across the street.

There are two adorable and petite young barristas, one
white and one black, that always try to have my venti iced
coffee and venti iced water at the register by the
time I make it there to pay.

Before that I looked on craigslist for cool furniture;
I scored an awesome coffee table once. After that I sent
messages to a few hookers in hopes they’d write me
back.

I took a shower.

I woke up around nine but had seven minute dreams for
the next hour between mashings of the snooze button.
I only set an alarm cause I had to get a goddamn
haircut.

Your government is lying to you about everything.

Drinks for my friends.

I sat down with the idea of taking my turn beating the
crap out of our thoroughly disgraced and shamefully
pompous attorney general. He was embarrassing. It
was aggravating to watch. What a complete dickhead.

What I’m about to say may shock you.

So what?

Without a doubt, this guy is a fucking clown. He’ll
lose his job, be publicly disgraced and fade into the
ether. After a time he’ll land some six or seven
figure gig and none if it will matter, at least not
to him.

Today at least, I feel I have bigger fish to fry.

So, I was gathering steam, CNN was on in the
background, sound very low, as is my wont. A story
appeared that has been tugging at my rage for a few
days and I just couldn’t let it go any longer. It’s
an issue that is very close to my heart. The story
was about one Michael Vick and the “sport” of dog
fighting.

I could not stand to watch even fifteen seconds.

I’ve always regarded the idea that what separates
humans from animals is the ability to reason, as a
rather obtuse one. If that were true, my cat wouldn’t
consistently shit in the designated shit box, dogs
would spend all day looking for the food bowl and
gorillas wouldn’t gain remarkable proficiency in
things like sign language.

For a while, I held that the difference between us and
them is simply art. Creativity and an impetus or
inspiration for the aesthetic. Then some chimp
painted or something and I realized that my cat at the
the time had a sense of humor.

So much for that.

For some time now, I’ve owned that what indeed is the
distinction between human and animal, is innocence.
They have it in as pure and pristine a form as
exists. We do not. We are born with it, but by the
time we learn to walk, it has already begun to
atrophy.

Now, I don’t know if this guy is guilty or not, but it
sure looks like it. It occurred on his property,
under the guise of a business he owned, a kennel run
by both he and his relatives.

I don’t know that he did it. I didn’t even know who
he was until the story broke last week. I’m willing
to wait to find out.

If convicted, he faces as much as six years in prison,
a loss of some twenty five million dollars in annual
income and public humiliation.

Ha, motherfucker. Not nearly enough. Not even close. If this man
is guilty, there is no ring of hell appropriate for
such a human piece of shit.

I would suggest he deserves far more than to taste his own
blood. If his guilt is proven, I would recommend a
beat down with crowbars, baseball bats and claw
hammers until near death. Then, let him heal. Once he’s
ambulatory, repeat. And repeat. Over, and over, and
over again. I’d be happy to participate.

I am not fucking kidding.

You see, humans at least have the capacity to
understand what’s happening to them in any given
shitstorm. All animals know is pain and fear and they
don’t know why.

A similiar story comes on Anderson Cooper 360 as I
write this. I cannot watch it. I change the channel.

How could any human participate in such a barbaric and
elaborately premeditated undertaking? It would have
to be a being in possession of an entirely dark soul.
One utterly lacking compassion and decency. One
abundant in cruelty and viciousness. Depraved.
Stinking and rotting.

Domesticated animals, if provided with the merest
modicum of care and affection respond with
unconditional love.

This man if guilty, is culpable of more than violent
vivisection, he is responsible for robbing potentially
loving animals of their innocence and therefore, their
souls.

If he’s guilty, then fuck this piece of shit. No fate
is bad enough. A stain on humankind.

I would gleefully dance on a man’s head and sing, were that man just stupid enough to abuse an animal in front of me.

Try me.

Drinks for my friends.

Um, the debates are on.

Edwards is talking the populist talk. I admit it’s
sweet to my ears. I never disliked this guy and I
don’t give a mad fuck about how rich he is.
Presidents are rich. They always have been.

Kucinich burns bright too. Conviction and by far the
best voting record on the stage. I really like the
little paste eater-vegan, with the well over six foot
bride half his age, bright red hair and a tongue
ring.

My chances of dinner in the White House probably at
least double if the first lady has a pierced tongue.

He’s not stupid, he knows that the most important
thing is not to end up a fart in a whirlwind. And
he’s comported himself with dignity and aplomb. When
they let him talk, he let’s fly with the most progressive, courageous AND logical assessments of any of the candidates.

The man is the shit.

Obama and Clinton run with ease out front. Smooth and
composed; not even breathing hard yet. They’re both
happy to be who they are and what they are. A woman
and a black man running number one and two in a race
with a still distant finish.

Biden’s sharp and he has nice teeth. Sincere and
compassionate on Darfur, eminently qualified in matters of foreign policy and military logistics. Bright guy but he has a big mouth. He still has the most logical political policy ideas for Iraq.

None of them really suck.

Kucinich just answered in favor of reparations for
African Americans. Good for him.

Bullshit though.

You can’t throw money at a problem like this so recklessly. Make it better.

Cardinal Mahoney just did that here in LA. He gave over 650 people over a million dollars each because most of them took it in
the ass or in the mouth as children from figures they
were compelled to respect no matter what.

This guy Mahoney fucking sucks.

If Mahoney had a spine he would have devoted his
energy to fixing the fucking problem instead of
scrambling for a decade to obfuscate and cover.

Ladies and gentlemen, a human turd. A massive, sticky bloody stain
on catholicism, christianity and organized religion.

Forgive me, I digress.

So, the solution to racism and inequality in this
country is not money thrown in front of a fan. It is about
spending more than would end up in each individual’s
pocket on policies and programs.

It sounds liberal and utopian, I know. But I’m talking about the difference between feeding a man once or teaching him to fish.

At the end of the day, reparations are a band-aid.
Look at how effective cold cash was for The Native
Americans.

Nope. Fix it. Get brave. Implement.

Anyway:

Dodd is sharp. He does well on Katrina.

Richardson fumbles it a little. Yet he’s sincere.

Clinton, Edwards and Obama spend a lot of time pussy
stepping around each other.

By the way, this format is genius. Excellent
questions. It makes me very curious about what sort
of blunderbuss the repuglicans will be stepping in front of.

Most of them would have tripped on their dicks by now.
See, they’re stupid and dogmatic. It’s a weakness.

Sorry, had to throw that in.

Edwards did well with a query about the affect his
faith would have on policy. This guy is very good.

Cooper fires a nice one about the difference between
civil rights and the rights of gays.

Obama rocks it pretty good when he posits leaving the religious
question up to individual denominations but insisits,
all states adopt parity in laws dealing with with
civil rights, marriage and sexual orientation.

For what it’s worth, I have long maintained that the issue of gay rights is very simply an issue of civil rights.

ON IRAQ:

Biden strives to be realistic. I admire that. He does know this shit.

Hillary is once again, sleek. She talks about trying
to win repuglicant support since the election. She
does well in acknowledging that there is no military
solution. She drops the ball when she reaches out to
the flat earthers though.

Methinks it’s time to run them the fuck over. Public
will is on your side. What are you waiting for?
Understand, we are waiting on you.

If republicans had a gallon of juice left, it would all be over except the shouting. All the people on the stage would do well to own that fact.

So, Kucinich swings hard and connects. His answer is
don’t give them anymore goddamn money. He is right.

HE is RIGHT. This mouse roars.

Horsepower to torque to pavement.

Work with me here.

I must admit, I like these guys (including Hillary). They all appear to be more or less genuine, at least in the context of the contemporary politician.

They’re kicking the shit out of the repugnicants in fund raising and that’s a good sign.

Yet, it’s also quite ominous. Particularly in the the instances of Hillary and Obama, it tells us that behind the curtain, they are both fervently engaged in a 69 with big pharma and big oil. It’s that sort of symbiotic relationship with the dark side that leads to – meet the new boss, same as the old boss.

It wasn’t that long ago that Hills had her ass handed to her over an admittedly far too convoluted national health care plan by one of those very beasts.

She cannot hope to craft and implement a fair and efficacious universal health care policy if she’s remains that carnally connected. Same goes for Obama.

The Kennedy’s tried that shit and ended up dead.

There may be a light at the end of this long dark tunnel, but I worry about the size of the opening.

We may just be lucky enough to end up with the lesser of two evils in our legislative and executive branches. I hope we don’t screw this pooch.

Even if we don’t, it’s like getting a record deal; that’s when the real work begins. If we end up with a Democratic President, the odds still wouldn’t favor us.

Vigilance won’t be obsolete anytime soon.

Drinks for my friends.

A lot going on. I’ve been busy. Shall we review the douchebaggery visited upon us this week?

ITEM ONE:

The very same federal judge and greasy bastard that
forbade us from even a glimpse at Cheney’s energy task
force documents, dismissed the suit brought by
COVERT CIA AGENT Vallerie Plame Wilson against
Dick-in-Bush et al.

He essentially said that although the behavior of the
White House was “unsavory” when it smeared Joe and
Vallerie Wilson for telling the truth, it was “within
the scope of defendants’ duties as high-level
Executive Branch officials.”

-Quotes from truthout.org

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

A can of Pabst for the first mouth breather to
share with us who appointed said greasy bastard.

His name, John Bates of the US District Court in
Washington, DC.

He worked for that lizard Ken Starr too, on Whitwater,
of course. No big suprise that he was successful in
arguing for the release of a cornucopia of documents
from Hillary at the time. Pat Leahy said “When that
guy was working for Ken Starr, he wanted to go open
the dresser drawers of the White House, I guess it’s a
lot different when it’s a Republican vice president.”

-Quotes from truthout.org

I really loathe these pricks.

ITEM TWO:

Harriet Miers faces the withering spotlight of
‘inherent contempt’ after refusing to show up for a
subpeona issued by a congressional committee. She
chose to ditch the proceedings because Dumbya super super promised her she didn’t have to come and she wouldn’t get in trouble.

Apparently, the Sergeant-at-Arms can arrest her.

I worked in my state legislature for awhile. The arms
of our Sergeants were pretty short. Just long enough
to stuff donuts in their faces and still behave with
some degree of composure. Most of them were in highschool and without any swimming with the knife in your teeth experience.

I’m pretty sure the D.C. version isn’t a helluva lot
more formidable.

I wouldn’t exactly anticipate anal leakage as a
result of an olestra saturated conscience if I were
you.

Maximum penalty is twelve months and a thousand bucks.

If the full force of the law were brought to bear,
it wouldn’t be a bad plate of shrimp to
a sycophant like Miers.

You know she wouldn’t do any time. She’d definitely rather pay
the fine than fill her granny panties with the pungent
liquid stool of truth.

Not so withering a light after all. What it is, is a candle. That could drip wax on your end table. Worse case scenario, the family pet dances for thirty seconds thinking “Hot HOT HOT!”

ITEM THREE:

“Bush administration officials unveiled a bold new
assertion of executive authority yesterday in the
dispute over the firing of nine U.S. attorneys, saying
that the Justice Department will never be allowed to
pursue contempt charges initiated by Congress against
White House officials once the president has invoked
executive privilege.” You’ve really got
to read this.*** I guess my space is not happy with my link-Washington Post, July 20 “Broader Privilege Claimed In Firings”***

I abhor this administration’s sociopathic predilection
for blanketing the judiciary with bogus get out of
jail free cards on behalf of any and every crony that
would otherwise be forced to tell us the fucking
truth.

ITEM FOUR:

The dickhead republican minority in the senate
thwarted an attempt, via fillibuster, to hold
Dick-in-Bush to a timetable for withdrawl from Iraq. Despite some 70% percent of WE THE PEOPLE calling for it and it being
more than a little hypocritically disingenuous in
light of the “nuclear” option they had such a hard on for just a
few years ago over various federal judicial and SCOTUS
nominees.

Shameless Dickheads.

“The Republican leadership has established hurdles and
blockades, everything they can find to stop us from a
vote that reflects the feelings of the American
people. You know why? They’re afraid of what the
American people want. They’re afraid the American
people might prevail.”

– Senator Dick Durbin (D-Illinois)

Hard to believe that there are still so many flat
earthers in our legislative branch when even a casual
assessment reveals how obviously fucked up is every last thing.

ANYWAY:

Not long ago, Dumbya bragged about the political
capital he’d amassed as a result of the slimmest
margin ever earned by an incumbent president. He
practically swaggered as he boasted of how he
intended to spend it.

Now he’s too broke to pay attention; it’s not as
though he ever has anyway.

Before it’s over he will have spent over a trillion
dollars and a million lives. What an asshole. What a
criminal.

WHAT A DICKHEAD.

Congress now has an abundance of horsepower, it is supplied
by the will of the no longer somnambulant WE THE
PEOPLE. It remains to be seen if they possess the
wherewithal to convert it into torque and put it on pavement.

We need to remind them that outside, it’s
America.

And the killing and dying goes on and on and on.

Drinks for my friends.

There is seldom more dangerous a thing than a stupid and misgiuded man who still has the courage of his convictions. When such a man is the leader of our country and by what is now a cruel default, the free world, you can bet your ass “We the people” are in serious trouble.

What are we going to do? Can we afford another sixteen months of this lawless and compassionless chaos? Our narrow eyed idiot leader thinks he’s doing God’s work. He says he talks to God, God talks to him and that is his unassailable consent to do as he pleases.

I must confess that even to this day, I don’t believe George W. Bush is a bad guy. Stupid? Yes. Perhaps even midly retarded, if only as a result of alcohol and cocaine abuse. Yet, I’d have few drinks with him. Enjoy myself while making fun at his expense; him none the wiser, of course. Sue me, poking fun at the willfully ignorant or just plain mentally challenged is a hobby of mine. I can’t help it, and really, they don’t know.

Now, am I of the opinion that everyone behind him is evil? Well, that’s an emphatic and adamant, Are You Fucking Kidding Me? Rove and Cheney are so black of heart and soul that light struggles to reflect off of their nearly hairless crowns. I sometimes wonder if they show up so infrequently in the media and on television because the cost of lighting their ugly and twisted visages is too exorbitant for all but the richest right wing media conglomerates.

I really hate those pricks.

Yesterday, we learned that the White House, which allows no light to escape, tirelessly invoked executive privilege yet again over d o c u m e n t s pertaining to the death of Patrick Tillman. Remember the lantern jawed member of the NFL that selflessly sacrificed his life for his country? A new low.

All reptiles have spines don’t they? Just exactly how does a vertebrate dance the Limbo so expertly? I mean, they’ve moved the bar so low that single celled organisms struggle to squeeze under it.

Labelling this latest act of douchebaggerry “Orwellian” insults the author. This is “Tales From The Crypt”. It is the stuff of fucking comic books. Shitty ones for nine year olds. With lots of places for you to color however you want.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Just one day before this, we learn Dumbya has ordered Harriet Miers, perhaps the least qualified individual to ever be nominated to the Supreme Court and former White House counsel, not to appear in front of the house judiciary committee after being subpoenaed to testify about the so far completely unexplained firings of eight federal prosecutors.

Apparently, not a single person in the entire Dick-in-Bush administration can remember who fired these people or why.

Gonzales, the now titular head of the DOJ, can’t remember a goddamn thing. He stinks. Forgive me, but this motherfucker stinks. He wears carp guts. His pockets runneth over with chum. Torture, illegal wiretapping, firing prosecutors who couldn’t find dirt on Democrats for voter fraud, he’s been there for all of it. All of it. He thinks the Geneva Conventions are “quaint”.

The day before that, Sara M. Taylor, former White House political director, answered whatever the fuck she felt like and didn’t answer whatever the fuck she didn’t feel like, after being subpoenaed by the same committee.

“In light of the president’s direction, I will answer faithfully those questions that are appropriate for a private citizen to answer, while also doing my best to respect the president’s directive that his staff’s communication be privileged.”

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Also, on the day before yesterday, Dumbya admitted for the very first time, that “somebody” in his administration leaked the name of covert CIA operative Vallery Plame to the press, but whatever, it’s time to “move on”.

All in the last week dear reader.

I have an idea. It’s called impeachment.

Nixon, all arrogant and sloppy, covered up a burglary. Mr. Clinton got what I’m guessing was a pretty good and maybe even rockstar style hoovering, wiped his sword on the young woman’s dress and covered it up. Albeit, briefly.

We’ll be at a million dead here pretty soon. The number of those not dead but still pretty fucked goes up every day too.

I really fucking hate these guys.

Drinks for my friends.

Tonight’s offering was gonna be this horror piece I’ve been working on, but instead it’s a conversation between me and my pal Timmy. I actually cut and pasted it for you because I’m a loser.

TIMMY:
i need hooch im startin to shake over here and my teeth are yellow whitish i need em purple …STAT.
im gonna go drink some cough syrip

ME:
Actually, just went through my stash, and I have no Pejut merlot. I think that box in my office has some. It’s right inside the door-let’s check tommorrow.

TIMMY:
good im out of nyquil

ME:
Dude, just steal some from the 7-11.

TIMMY:
stealing is wrong

ME:
Who told you that?

TIMMY:
the bible. and jesus aint no liar he says thats bad to but i here fucking a virgin girl in the pooper is ok by him and he turns water into wine …hero

ME:
You know, he’s my kinda guy. He cavorted with whores.

TIMMY:
so does that mean there are whores at church?
maybe ive been looking at this religion shit all wrong
i love jesus

ME:
Of course you do my son. Get thee to to the services on Sunday. Seek the harlots. You’ll have to shower and that t-shirt you wear for weeks on end won’t fly.

TIMMY:
hey i shower and i change my t-shirt daily the pants kinda stay the same for weeks but fuck it my legs dont sweat htat much and it aint like im free ballin..im church material damn it . amen

ME:
Yes my son, you are. I gotta get a towel for my passenger seat, remind me. Least you’ve stopped pickin yer nose so much.

TIMMY:
get a towel for your passenger seat. there i reminded you . and i pick my nose all day at work while conteplating what a grape nut is so by the time i get in your car im out of boogers and i still dont know what the hell a grape nut is there are no nuts in grapes yet you can buy boxes full of the fucking things it makes no sence .what the fuck is a grape nut

ME:
Nevermind. They’re for smart people. I’m gonna make you wash your hands before the ride home from now on.

Think harder about breakfast foods like Pop Tarts or Fruity Pebbles. You won’t be nearly as confused. Concentrate on the various iterations of the now ubiquitous Egg McMuffin.

Better yet, have coffee. Helps ya poop.

TIMMY:
dude are you speaking english? what the hell man.
pop tarts are mear pastries though if you take a frosted one and stuff it in your toaster and tape the button trigger thing down 4-5 foot flames will shoot out the top of your toaster ,try it go and hit up a thrift store for a toaster and grab an extention cord and some tape and dot forget the frosted poptarts i like strawberry ..then make your neighbors say “do you smell burning poptarts?”

what the hell is a grape nut

ME:
Ok. Here’s the deal. Grape Nuts have been around forever and they’re called that because they were sweetened with sugar from grapes. Um, there was this guy, Euell Gibbons who did the commercials in the 70’s. I think he looked like Orville Redenbacher.

So, let it go. These things are so easily solved. See?

Now, we should get together and put Estes “D” size model rocket engines in a thrift store toaster.

I can fund this if we do it at your place.

Did you know you can make a bomb from non-dairy creamer? It’s flammable as fuck.

TIMMY:
no we need hot wheels match box cars and rocket engines ive done it before when i was a kid ,almost set a feild on fire ,good times
ah ha grape sugar who would have thought.

so how does on make a bomb from non dairy creamer ,do i just dump it in a coffee can with a wick and duct tape the hell out of it light it and run like hell?
if so im doing it

ME:
Yeah, that’ll work. Buy the cheapest powder you can find. I’m thinking Costco. Disclaimer though, I’ve never tried that, I only know it burns fast, I’ve set alot of that stuff on fire in recording studios.

You gotta find that combustive power versus strength of container ratio. You know, the more volatile fuel combined with the a shell of higher structural integrity always yields more bang for your pyromaniacal tendencies.

Don’t know where store bought NDC fits the math.

Should be pretty fucking combustible.

I tell ya, the idea of rocket engines in a toaster has a certain allure. Can we leave this possibility on the table? I’m thinking we should serve malt liquor with an entree of this nature.

TIMMY:
im just gonna do some trial and error with the non dairy bomb and eventualy i will blow some thing up.

if there is beer involved we can stuff a rocket engine in a toaster ,microwave ,stuffed animal and then when were good and drunk we can tape one fin to them and just set them off and see who gets hit .fun i tell you

ME:
Done that shootin them fuckers off random thing. Ended up with huge bruise on my thigh the shape of Italy, Then it got infected somehow.

If we get some malt liquor and some whiskey, I might be up for that. And since we’re older than 14, let’s get some safety goggles before we start drinking.

My old man’s only got one eye and your’s has a not-a-leg sooo……….

TIMMY:
good call on the whiskey and the goggles is a good idea too. rocket engines are fun

how the hell does a bruise get infected ,is that when they turn yellow/green cuz ive had that happen a shitload of times usually on the really big bruises like the one i got from doing a high speed sideways kinda bellyflop on a bench before i moved out here, that sucked, damn skateboard left me at the worst time

ME:
I’m good like that ’cause I’m older and smarter, more experienced and probably better looking.

All I know is it turned yellow and oozed some puss but it was kinda clear and I never got a fever or anything.

You do this kinda shit on a skateboard on purpose and you just bought and aspire to drive a fucking car.

TIMMY:
Body: i’ll give you older…the rest well ..i dont wanna hurt your feelings

that sounds like a bruise burn i get those alot to i also get alot of blistered blisters from burns those are a treat.

and the idea was to slide across the bench but i landed on it wrong and the skateboard left me hanging.
damn car i gotta go to the dmv next week and get myself mobiler than the other four wheels

ME:
Don’t get all brave on me cause we’re bouncing off a satellite.

Yep, there was burnt flesh next to my young sack.

I got nothin for your blisters on blisters except to make sure your using the right ointment and I worked at KFC. I smelled my flesh a handful of times a day in that place. Topical antibiotic?

350 degree fat under pressure with valves everywhere.

We made greasy enviroment destroying heart disease causing chicken.

You blow glass. Very well.

Too bad about everything else about you.

TIMMY:
Body: brave? no truthful yes

how many fast food joints did you work at ?i worked at one and said fuck that i aint doing that again.
every here that story about the dumb ass that pissed in a fryerlator ,you can image how that went

why did you have hot fat under pressure? ive only seen it sitting in a vat

and yeah every thing else is kinda a shame

ME:
Shuddup and hold my soup fuckhead.

Just two food service occupations. KFC was like the fucking military and Der Weiner Schnitzel was like the Stripes/Animal House version. I was in charge and I ran one loose motherfuckin ship.

KFC that’s how they cook that shit. Big hydraulic steel rack lowers into a boiling vat of fat, oil and viscera, seals, and you crank up the pressure.

It was crazy. We polished those fuckers like they were fire engines. Peddled home in the dead of winter with my fucking pants frozen to my legs.

So I became a record producer.

At least you stopped picking your nose.

I’m out. Gotta make a phone call.

TIMMY:
kfc is crazy

later

They just don’t get it. Iraqi troops don’t show up in
other places because their concern doesn’t reach
beyond their own neighborhoods.

We simply don’t understand fuck all after four fucking
years.

It’s criminal that we did what we did. That we
invaded for no goddamn reason.

It’s fucktardingly, reCOCKulously and immorally absurd
that we did it without the slightest fucking clue as
to what to plan for or even expect.

Over and over again I’m blind sided by these haymakers
of stupidity, arrogance, hubris and avarice.

They are firmly planted, and unable to dance at all, in a
gunnysack of dipshitedness. Yet, they must be nuclear
powered, because they just keep swinging for all the
world like they have four arms.

And they shuffle ever forward. Like fucking zombies.

Executive priveledge on documents pertaining to obviously illegal wiretapping, energy task force meetings, 911 testimony without an oath to tell the truth, The Vice executive doesn’t belong to the executive branch, executive priveledge on documents pertaining to firing federal prosecutors for not pursuing baseless voter fraud against Democrats and everyday they just insist everything is going great, while we watch it all implode in slow motion.

These guys are really good and I motherfucking hate them.

It is maddening to watch.

This brings us to the “opposition”. The Democrats.

Non-binding resolutions, grandiose but trivial lines
in the sand, and one swing, just one, at a defense
spending bill for 120 billion dollars that we don’t
have. After one try, they rolled over and showed us
their mottled bellies.

Ten democrats voted their conscience that day. Ten out of forty nine. You have got be fucking kidding me.

These people were elected for a reason. That reason
was crystal godamn clear.

The very first political campaign I ever worked in was
for now Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid. He was
running for Lt. Governor of Nevada. He lost to Paul
Laxalt by a little over six hundred votes. I think I
was nine.

What is going on here? Hillary and Obama lead the
pack in contributions from big pharma this quarter? These two have
long since been to the crossroads and inked a deal with the dude with glowing red eyes in the stovepipe hat. I will vote for neither in the primary.

I’m done. I’m not throwing in the towel. I’m taking
the gloves off. No more of this lesser of two evils
horseshit. If I don’t like the choices on the ballot,
I’ll write in a candidate. Larry Bud Melman or Bill
Maher depending on my mood.

I wrote a letter today to both my senators and my
congressman (Boxer, Feinstein and Howard L. Berman,
respectively), it said that I would vote for whomever their
opponents ended up being in the next election if they
did not get off their asses and do something.
Something about the fucking war. Something about
holding these sonsabitches responsible for their
CRIMES.

Enough is Enough.

It’s gotten to the point where just about everyone but
the incurably and willfully stupid realize that we are
taking it in the ass.

And the people we hired to deal with these things act
like we are not here.

Mrs. Pelosi, I’m quite thrilled that you punched
through the glass ceiling and occupy the highest
position of any woman ever. Really happy for you. I
will actively campaign against you and for Cindy
Sheehan if you do not get off your ass and lead.

See, when we put you there, we did it because we
expected you to DO something. To do one thing. So far,
you really suck at it.

I fear that if they don’t take us seriously, they will
be forced to deal with anarchy. The weak among you
will be forced onto your backs. A good number will run rampant.

I have no intention of rolling over.

No more rules, school is out for summer.

They can’t hear us.

Yet.

Drinks for my friends.

I love that she knows and understands me. I adore
that she talks to me, despite not understanding a good deal of what she
goes on about. She’s a little crazy, I’m thinking
bipolar. One minute she’s cooing while warm and soft,
the next she’s all sinew, teeth and nails.

There are times I become olfactorily desensitized. My
affection for her is such that I’m able to tolerate
the odor of tootsie rolls that look like almond roca when
coated in litter, and the most pungent piss of any
domesticated animal. Occasionally I get a whiff when
I’m writing and I pour more sand in the shit box.

Then, some hot ass backsweat day on the drive home, I
open my front door to a bitchslap of feline excreted
ass and vagina molecules.

I mean, If I can smell that shit, hamfisted pun
intended, then I am inhaling that shit. So I put down
my shit and grab a Glad bag and some Lysol. I finish
washing the shitbox in the shower with a generous
amount of bleach. I sweep and mop the area and wash
the linens.

She herself, always smells very pleasant. “Kitty
Perfume” The Fish calls it. The Bean always smelled
delightful.

I leave newspapers on the floor of the bathroom for
her to have her way with.

I once sprung a leak and left a thin line of
catshitsand down the hall of my building. What am I
gonna do? Take the fucking Dyson out there? Are there even outlets?
Call a tech?

Having said that, I’m more than grateful she wordlessly
consented to shit and piss only in the designated shit and piss
box.

She won’t let a single rug lay flat, she’s an
attention whore, she often won’t speak to me in the
mornings. She’s shameless about pointing out that
it’s Sunday and that means Fancy Feast.

She’s an agile pain in the ass when I’m packing
luggage, she’s always up in my business when I’m
actually doing something but she’s pretty cool about
just hanging when I’m writing. She probably just
likes the quiet.

She picks my bamboo rug apart and distributes the thin
planks around the living room. She’s very funny. she
randomly gets all Halloween on me in an effort to
start a chase.

She likes to sit under things and stare/frown at me.
She rarely speaks during these episodes, when she does
it’s to admonish me.

The Bean engaged in similiar behavior but usually from
on high.

Otherwise she almost always sits facing away from me.

Her name is “The Gurry”, Girly Girl, Swirly Girl and
Girlfriend. Potempkin, Great Googely Moogely and
Fester Bester Tester. Benson & Hedges, Madame Crowley
and Mint Julip. Anyway…………….

She comes to bed with me every night and leaves as
soon
as I fall asleep.

She comes back before the sun does. I feel her nose
on my hand or my shoulder. She settles within arms
length and says a quiet hello.

I weigh everything in the most empirical light I can
muster. It is then that I have a snack and six drinks
or so.

Somewhere in there I begin to write. If I
don’t, by the next morning, my neglect typically
forces a course of action upon me.

Either that or whatever it is, festers for at least another day.

Once in a bathroom at The Studio, an Asian gentleman
pronounced the word lobster as “robster” to me. He
was very excited.

Trust me, it was all I could do.

In the very same bathroom I witnessed Eddie Murphy
wash his hands like a man with a monkey on his back. Manic. I entered, pissed and washed thoroughly. He scrubbed away the whole time, barely looking at me.

I pissed next to everybody in there. I also scrubbed
it with a toothbrush when I fell out of favor.

One of my best friends had to crawl under a stall door
to get Joe Walsh off the throne. It’s an excellent
story.

Someday I’ll share the tale of The Magic Booger. It was right there on the brass handle. For years.

Let me just say this. Ha!

Anyway.

I’m thinking it’s impossible to effectively break rules until you’re intimate with them. I believe it’s the responsibility of those who would violate the most mundane to the most sacrosanct , to first immerse themselves in the discipline that nurtured their buoyancy.

It is incumbent upon the rebel to understand what he
hopes to subvert.

All the best and brightest, at the very least, have colored outside the lines.

They know the inside of the box like the backs of
their hands. I imagine they all begin to grow bored with
it at one point or another.

It’s evident in every artform and occupation.

Here I began to make a list, and gave up. Way too many examples of genius. Musicians, scientists, writers and philosophers and the way they overlap.

The box matters because it divides the inside from the outside.

The essence of genius is creativity. It’s impetus is
inspiration. Along the way, the discipline of what
the box contains yields to the infinity outside of it.
It becomes an inculcation all it’s own.

Those outside the box must still reach inside, yet,
those inside have no imperative to reach, or even look
out.

May the sun shine on those that bother to even look around.

Drinks for my friends.

An update of matters concerning inmate number 28301016

John Conyers from the 14th Congressional District of Michigan has announced that he will investigate the use/misuse of presidential powers of clemency. The republicans hate this guy. He knows all about Iowa and now he has juice.

This is about Dumbya taking Libby off the clothesline. It was gettin’ mighty windy, if Dumbya didn’t do something quick, Scooter’s head was gonna commence to whistle.

It’s great theater. Yesterday, tongues wagged and spittle flew. Today, Tony Snow danced like a corpse inhabited by a poltergeist. He called it “routine”. It was beyond ridiculous. Poor bastard.

The democrats have actually siezed on the one aspect so obviously germane to the big goddamn picture for once. Hillary, Dodd and Biden are all actually taking this head on. They say it ain’t right because Dumbya did it to save Cheney’s pork rind ass.

At first I was impressed, now I’m a little nonplussed. They couldn’t Man Up on war spending but they’re pissed about Scooter.

That’s kinda disingenuous. Hillary and Obama were among the handful who voted against the latest war funding bill. They just didn’t want anyone to know about it. I’m guessing both are afraid of being kicked in the vagina?

Maybe the blind, wet and shivering democrats are beginning to realize that the Machiavellian cancer in the corridors of White House power is one Richard Bruce Cheney. Just maybe, they now understand that he is therefore, the heel of Achilles.

Cut off the head and so dies the body.

I’m torn, I’m encouraged that they’ve grabbed this bull by the horns. Yet, it won’t suprise me to see them flopping in the soil because they never thought about digging in and hanging on.

Life imitates art; it’s Revenge of The Fucking Nerds.

Drinks for my friends.

Unbelievable. Or, well, maybe not.

From Air Force One Dumbya phoned in an order to commute the sentence of inmate #28301016, you may know him better as I. Lewis “Scooter” Libby, Jr. Scapegoat. Fall guy. Patsy.

The spokesholes raved and their spittle did fly.

Think the Dick-in-Bush regime are a little cranky about having their asses handed to them over their ham fisted, neanderthaloid attempts at immigration reform?

Sitting presidents typically exercise such options at the end of their tenure, when they have little left to lose.

It did give me pause, yet it was fleeting. The raw hubris on display was initially extraordinary. I admit that I was in awe at the sociopathic insolence upon hearing of it. After all, when first asked about it, Dumbya vowed to get to the bottom of it; he said he’d fire anyone responsible.

Methinks he said that because he was woefully out of the loop and didn’t have a clue as to what he should say. Poor stupid fuck that he is, he defaulted to a domestic version of “smoke ’em out”.

Ever notice how close together his eyes are?

Anyway, I then had an ephiphany the size of a slap to the forehead. These fucks still have a lot to lose.

Libby was convicted of lying to the FBI and a grand jury AND of obstructing justice. This was Darth Cheney’s chief of staff. This was about the lies told by this administration to sell us on an unjust war. Hundreds of thousands of people died over the lies this sniveling fucktard got caught covering up.

He, is the ultimate insider, privy to the entire landfill.

The lies themselves were never really revealed, they sure as fuck were never prosecuted. Now the somnambulant among you won’t be able to see where I’m going with this. I trust the rest of you will.

See that speck over there? When you first spot it you think it’s a pelican or something. Just bobbing. Maybe it’s asleep.

As the ship approaches, it shocks with it’s exponential increase. All the sudden, it’s the goddamn Matterhorn.

What it is, is the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Inmate #28301016 sits astride it like Slim Pickens on an atomic bomb in that Kubrick flick.

They had to cut this little fucker a deal, unlike the other parade of patsies, If he sings they are vapor. Trust me, he knows everything. More than a few of us know more than a little of it, but this guy can prove virtually all of it.

Wonder why he went down in the firstplace? I’ll quote myself from last month, June 12, 2007-the year of our lord:

“See kids, here’s the deal. Gonzales is the bulkhead protecting Rove and Cheney on this issue. The same way Rumsfeld was on a completely different issue. The same way Libby was. The same way Peter Pace was. Or Powell, Ashcroft, DeLay and Wolfowitz. Heard much from Condi lately? Bitch.”

Lest any of you be overly zealous in pointing out the sheer testicle mass revealed in this act by Dumbya, understand it is really quite the opposite. This was done out of genuine and legitimate fear that we’d all see the naked emperor, shriveled, purple puss leaking phallus and all.

God I hate these guys.

Drinks for my friends.

Imagine if you will, a world where that fucking lizard Cheney has been impeached.

I doubt it would come to that, but what if our legislators, under extreme pressure and heat, developed tungsten spines and brought gravity to bear on our arsonists laureate? So much so that our man Darth was forced to walk?

The will, the very fiber of the Republican party would be disrupted like DNA exposed to massive nuclear radiation. The good, the bad and the ugly of the neoconserative to moderate Right wing would excrete a little gore, some mucus, and leave a trail of ash.

Rudderless.

They would have no idea what’s next because these days they look at Dick-in-Bush for what not to do as much as for what to do. Hard to believe they still stare so hard at that map, even while their eyes begin to resemble it’s random snaking red arteries.

Already lost and clawing. Taking jackasses like Mit Romney and Fred Thompson seriously.

The Republican party is more bereft of intellectual and therefore ideological purity than ever before.

We on the Left seem to have a glut of glad handing superhuman fundraisers. Shameless, spineless paper tiger/whores. This last quarter, Obama raised thirty two million fucking dollars. He smoked the Clinton machine.

We are now them and they are us.

“I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together. See how they run like pigs from a gun, see how they fly. I’m crying.” -I Am The Walrus.

The Left has Kucinich, and the Right has Ron Paul. Two men who, right or wrong, have the courage of their convictions. Neither has a snowflake’s chance in hell on an August day in a borosilicate kiln. Not going to happen. One can only hope they are able to steer the debate a little before wafting away as vapor.

It may very well be time to shrug these petty notions of left and right, of black and white.

Defining the difference between good and bad is not something we should aspire to, it’s what we should engage in. It is there that we should take our sticks and rifles to draw lines. That is the distinction we should pursue.

Ideology may just be for the stupid. It is without a doubt for the ignorant.

The sane among us are well aware of the difference between right and wrong. Ocassionally it may require an assessment of our own hearts and our own minds, but with the sane, the truth inevitably prevails.

What’s it going to take for deliverance? Steadfast adherance to truth, justice and the American way?

It has long since ceased to be a matter of partisan concerns. Quite some time ago, it emerged as a struggle of right versus wrong.

It is time to act accordingly. Move beyond the labels.

“Semolina pilchard, climbing up the Eiffel Tower.
Elementary penguin singing Hari Krishna.
Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allan Poe.
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo g’joob g’goo goo g’joob.
Goo goo g’joob g’goo goo g’joob g’goo.”

The state of our union is a comedy to those who think and a tragedy to those who feel.

I borrowed part of that last bit from a guy named Horace Walpole.

Drinks for my friends.

Proof of just how out of touch is Dumbya:

The pelvis crushing defeat of any possibity of a
reformed immigration policy. He honestly believed he
could get this done. Why? Because he’s fucking
stupid.

To whit; despite that he’s been scraping them off his
shoe for six years, the democrats have had a majority
in the house for almost seven months and they’re not
about to afford him a victory no matter how symbolic.
And, half of his own party are now comfortable pissing
in his wind, particularly on this subject. What a
douchebag.

Dude, stick your finger in the air.

Of heavier notes………

The Supreme Court soiled itself yesterday.

“Rarely have so few undone so much, so
quickly”-Supreme Court Justice Stephen Breyer aiming
his pea shooter at dickheads Roberts, Scalia and
Alito.

I guess I’m a liberal on this issue. It occurs to me
that the the time to cease encouraging racial
diversity in a racially divided America is when said
country is no longer so transparently divided by race.

The logistics and implementation of affirmative action
programs et. al. have been flawed for sure, but I
believe the concept to be sound. It is good medicine for a
still sick society. We have yet to recover from our
bigotry and propensity to discriminate for petty and
pious reasons.

There are legitimate objections to the way various
policies have been allowed to manifest. Bureaucracy
sucks. Yet, until every American can begin life on a
level playing field, regardless of socio-econimic
status and/or something as simple as skin color, we
should continue to pursue legislating the ethic.

It is always a mistake to attempt to legislate
morality. It is often quite noble to undertake
legislating fairness and justice.

In other news:

Colin Powell is a pussy.

House and Senate judiciary committees found the
inevitable ‘get out of jail free’ card underneath the
morning muffin today when the Whitehouse revealed it
would be taking a steamer on the forehead of Congress
by once again, tirelessly running behind the
“Executive Privilege” house of cards.

Let’s back up a little. See, subpeonas were issued
yesterday to Dick-in-Bush, Dick and the Department of
Alpo Gonzales.

This is more than intriguing because the Chief
Executive did not hesitate to run, while pissing
himself, behind the rubber band powered balsa glider known as “Executive
Privilege”.

All the while, Darth Cheney no longer has that option
because he shook his drops on “Executive Privelege” last week to avoid
disclosing how many secrets he’s kept secret. Welcome to the jungle.

“Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends
We’re so glad you could attend, come inside, come inside
There behind a glass stands a real blade of grass
Be careful as you pass, move along, move along” -Emerson Lake & Palmer

“There’s a sucker born every minute” – P. T. Barnum

Fuckheads. Man I hate these guys.

Drinks for my friends.

I just now remembered that one day, five or seven
years ago, a friend unknowingly demonstrated that had no idea how to pet a cat. He patted and stroked The Gurry awkwardly, without any
rythm. This, despite the fact that he had two of his own. It
was obvious that the pleasure of the cat was not even
in the periphery of the moment for him.

For reasons unrelated, I now think of this guy as a complete douchebag.

I’ve never been able to write a damn thing in
longhand. The tempo is all wrong. I must have a
keyboard. Plus, I loathe the physical act of writing.
Filling out a check or the return address on an
envelope represents a major pain in the ass to me.
I hate deposit slips.

As a kid I was fascinated by the maginfying effect of
water. I kept all manner of things submerged in
glasses and jars full of water. Rocks, marbles,
cereal box toys, coins……………

I can actually see sounds. What a cool thing it is to
have made records and then listen to them.
“Swallowing colrs of the sounds I hear” -Ozzy

I used to think most people weren’t stupid, they just
failed to pay attention. Now I’m not so sure. I
catch myself not paying attention and I’m not stupid.

The difference between Rosie and Paris is that Rosie
stands for something. It matters not how foolish or wise.
Paris is held aloft by our collective gasp, whether it
be in disgust, dismay or disbelief.

Dick Cheney is the most evil motherfucker to ever SERVE AT THE PLEASURE OF THE AMERICAN PEOPLE. This is because he has never given a mad fuck about a single one of us. I fucking hate him and his little dog Dumbya too.

Sorry. Yay team.

Lewis Black on Stewart just said that a fake news show on Fox should show real news. I love this guy. I love that Stewart won’t let the latest Cheney hubris go. Way to go my little Jack Russel Terrier.

Coors Light has labels that turn white mountains blue when the bottle reaches an acceptable temperature for consumption. Genius.

CNN 360 with Andy C has been rockin the enviromental tip of late. Good for them. Andy himself endeavors to be remembered for never having spake the name of America’s favorite heiress. You gotta love that.

By the way, the last five or seven blogs I’ve posted have all included records I produced, recorded and or mixed in the ‘tell us what you’re listening to’ section. I used to be cool.

My shrink and I have had numerous protracted conversations about social networking via the internet and my level of participation in said. She’s careful to focus on the role it plays in my overall social sphere and she never strays into the pejorative.

It’s days like today that provide the most petite of ephinanies. I understand her emphasis, now that I cannot send or recieve messages on myspace and I want to kill harmless birds with a fork.

I honestly feel a low frequency shittiness right now.

Myspace is a pretty vital communication conduit for me. I interact with a lot of people every day on it. I’ve made good friends, rediscovered old ones and even found hot women to make out with and buy dinner for. I’m somewhere over twenty two thousand hits on my blogs.

It’s like I bit my tongue or pissed myself. It won’t go away.

And oh my, it is indeed darkest before the dawn. The lord taketh away and he giveth. The storm was violent and it did so raineth and bloweth on the land, as to have us believe our demise was imminent. Yet at the last possible moment, when my streets were awash and my infants in danger of being swept away, the clouds did part and the sun did more than showeth.

Seems like my goddamn mail is finally working again.

Takes pistol out of mouth and places it on table pointing away.

Drinks for my friends.

Audacious, ostentatious douchebaggery of the most
egregious kind. It is with quaking awe, in the most
enormous shadow of sociopathic hubris I have yet to
witness, that I bring this to you:

Richard Bruce Cheney has declared the office of Vice
President to be not of the executive branch and
therefore exempt from not only revealing secrets, but
revealing how many secrets they have chosen not to
reveal. This, in direct conflict with an executive
order signed by his puppet boss, Dumbya, in 2003.

“Transparently silly…………….It’s obvious that
the Vice President’s office is part of the executive
branch and to claim otherwise is preposterous”-Steven
Aftergood from The Federation of American Scientists.

“Your position was that your office ‘does not believe
it is included in the definition of ‘agency’ as set
forth in the Order’ and ‘does not consider itself an
‘entity within the executive branch’ that comes into
the possession of classified information,'” a National
Archives official claims Cheney chief of staff David
Addington wrote to him.-rawstory.com

The constitution establishes the office of Vice
President as being part of the executive branch under
article two, section one.

It cracks me the fuck up that so many secrets have
been kept under the notions of executive privilege and
power by this administration and Cheney in particular.

Forgive me, but fuck this fucking miserable fuck. The
second highest office in the executive branch of
American government and this dickhead declares it not
to be of said branch at all because he is president of
the senate as well?

I soooo cannot wait for his evil, black and purple
mass leaking puss like custard organ to detonate like
a rotting pie dropped from a lighting rig onto the
stage of a theater under a cold spotlight. Just who
does this maggot glistening piece of reptile shit
think he is?

Sorry about this, but you have got be fucking kidding
me.

He hid behind executive privilege to keep from you and
I what was talked about in this nation’s energy policy
meetings and even who was there. That’s just one
example of his hiding behind what he now rejects. For
what it’s worth, executive withholding under privilege
is typically only brought to bear by the executive
himself. And gas is near four bucks a gallon while
Exxon, the world’s richest corporation posts profits
that shatter all records.

These guys are good.

Still. Why? You so blatantly violate an executive
order signed by the very man who’s ass you have at
least one of your appendages up and tickling throat at
all times?

Dick has A LOT to hide.

Wierd, but if there’s a fissure, Dumbya doesn’t stand
a chance and he knows it. By now, he owns that he’s
stupid. He may even be starting to recognize the
profound ineptness of the eggheads around him.

Kinda makes you wonder if Dumbya is starting to get a
little sore, even though he’s ridin cowgirl. See, he
thought if he was on top, it wouldn’t hurt .

Dumbass.

Pun intended.

Man I hate these guys.

Drinks for my friends.

So, the no confidence vote on Gonzales went down like
a flaming depleted uranium Zeppelin yesterday in the
Senate.

Big suprise.

Ooooh. The jackass party was able to achieve lockstep
for an action that was completely symbolic. Ahhhh!

Yet with barely a glance from the great unwashed, it’s
eggshell skull was dashed upon the rocks and sensitive
brains were washed away like scrambled embryos. Eggs, I mean.

Most who’s heads were opened in the fray were already inflicted with advanced scoliosis. A few lacked spines entirely but their floating visages were held aloft by the power of knowing that what they chose to do on this day didn’t matter a bit. After all, it was a foregone conclusion and no one was watching.

Paris was back in the pokey!

Their bravery and conviction would make my lips
quiver, if I had a fucking vagina!!

Do I care if Gonzales takes the dirt nap? I realize it doesn’t matter because they’ll just plug in another asshole. They’ll probably end up amputating one prong from whoever the poor bastard is because the neocons are a two prong receptacle. They lack a seperate ground. I digress.

Fuck yes I’d like to see that scheming, hopelessly corrupt, sociopathic, dickless excuse for wearing a suit, spiral into shame and oblivion. Maybe we can trump up some child molestation charges and send him to a state prison in Texas.

Really. Wow. Our legislative branch was not even
able to label the most overt stumblefuck of the
Dick-in-Bush administration a fucktard today. He counts as the most overt one because former superstars like Rumsfeld are gone.

What’s Rummy up to? Growing herbs in a window box and maybe a little model ship building?

“A waste of time”, the elephants of the GOP had to
say.

“Republican Minority Leader Mitch McConnell chided
Democrats for ‘spending our time on a meaningless
resolution about giving the president advice about who
the attorney general ought to be.’

-from Bloomberg.

It occurs to me that the legislative branch ought get
involved when the blind and ignorant or evil and all knowing executive branch dogmatically and stubbornly supports a complete loser.

I mean, according to his own testimony, Albert with a
0 (that’s a zero kids) can’t remember what his dick looks like. What he
likes in his coffee or if we’re all created equal.

See kids, here’s the deal. Gonzales is the bulkhead protecting Rove and Cheney on this issue. The same way Rumsfeld was on a completely different issue. The same way Libby was. The same way Peter Pace was. Or Powell, Ascroft, DeLay and Wolfowitz. Heard much from Condi lately? Bitch.

I typically write these rants once I’ve worked up a
head of steam, gotten my mad on, if you will. Tonight,
not so much. I’m not suprised and can barely manage
disappointed.

Let me take another run at this.

This guy is a global embarrassment. He’s a fucking
pawn. Everyone, and I mean every one, knows what this
sycophantic automaton is about. And it’s sick, that
this piece of shit gamepiece enjoys the blanket of
neoconservative warmth. That he who is supposed to
embody justice fights so obstinately against it. This
greasy prick showed up with with Andy Card at
Ashcroft’s bedside when he was fighting for his own
worthless life, to twist his arm into allowing our
Aronists Laureate to do whatever the fuck they wanted
to do to you and me.

He doesn’t recall any of it.

Before this bastard was the law of the land he was
chief waterboy at the pissing end of Dick-in-Bush. As
White House Counsel he wrote that which he is now in
charge of defending at the pleasure of Dumbya.

This is all disturbing and profoundly disgusting on a day when Paris Hilton commands more attention than any of what I’m
pontificating about. It makes me sure that at least
in some way, we deserve it.

We do actually. We’ve allowed a scenario where our
very own elected representatives are more beholdin’ to a single
party and its jingoistic disease of dogma than the constituents at who’s pleasure they’re supposed to serve. Pricks.

Just like our military, our congress, our executives, our values, our morals, our ethics, just like all of them, our judiciary and the office of Attorney General of the United States is rent asunder. Scorched, perhaps irreparably.

Bobby Kennedy held that office and it may have cost him his life.

If that wasn’t the beginning of the end I don’t know what was.

Everyone besides Dick-in-Bush understands that this
pooch is screwed. Gangraped, from hell to
breakfast. Nine ways to Sunday. It’s over. We broke
it. Possession is ours.

Our fault.

Drinks for my friends.

Who honestly gives a mad fuck? 45 days or 21 or whatever, in jail.

Not, where the rest of us would do time,
but in a completely safe, isolated venue. Not in
any danger from violent inmates. No chance of getting
shanked with a shiv by an angry crack whore in gen-pop. No possibility of a furious acne scarred dyke with manly biceps and a pompadour forcing your delicate beak into her lesion festooned, puss oozing anal cleft……

Take my advice Miss Hilton. Read some books and focus on being more altruistic. Rescue some goddamn kittens. Bitch. Do your three weeks and endeavor to make it a positive experience. Try yoga.

This is precisely what’s wrong with us. That we care at all is absurd. It really disturbs me that people are rapt because although she is not all of us, she is a few of us, and at least a part of the rest of us aspire to be that.

Then there are those who belong to the same group as me. As long as she’s not subject to water boarding or any other US government approved interrogation method, I just can’t be bothered to afford a mad fuck.

I’m completely unconcerned if judge Sauer went beyond his authority with a harsh sentence that he insisted upon or whether Lee Bocca catered and pampered a celebrity who’s biggest claim to fame is smoking pole in front of a goddamn video camera.

I care that our legislative branch just demonstrated that they are incapable of crafting, much less enacting, a sensible immigration policy.

I care that someone else’s idea of God won’t get the fuck out of my politics. Did you see the Republican debates? Jesus fucking Christ. We may not elect a woman because she’s female. We may not elect a black man because he’s a nigger; at least according to the ignorant among us. But a Mormon who wears and believes in magical underwear has a real shot.

I honestly can’t wait for a gay candidate, that potential commander in chief has my vote automatically if only for the chaos that would ensue. That, would get my attention.

How many died in Iraq today?

Dumbya landed in Italy today where agents of our government are on trial for kidnapping people and sending them to be tortured. I care about this.

Ms. Hilton, there is a profound difference between people who’ve had their asses handed to them by the circumstances life is wont to visit upon us, and those who haven’t. I’ve gotten good at smelling that difference. Inevitably I favor those who’ve been there. Adversity is often good. My advice to you is to deal with it.

Honestly Ms. Hilton, were you smeared into a red stain tommorrow by a speeding bus, I’d only lament what you could have done. What someone born into your station in life should have done. Google Bill Gates, Bono or Jimmy Carter and realize that none of them were born in a position to affect change like you.

“Welcome to the jungle
We got fun ‘n’ games
We got everything you want
Honey we know the names
We are the people that can find
Whatever you may need
If you got the money honey
We got your disease”

Drinks for my friends.

Disclaimer: Forgive me. I thought the debates last night warranted more of my air chomping pontification. I hope you can still breath by the time I’m done. Those with compromised mental lung capacity are encouraged to abstain.

What Biden glossed over with his pedantic soliloquy about not having enough votes to end the war in the Senate, was exactly what Edwards was talking about. Edwards was talking to both Hillary and Barack. They both voted nay, but snuck in and out to do so. They hid their convictions as best they could. Biden complained about having only 50 votes, as opposed to the 67 needed to purchase the veto proof vest.

So? Really, so fucking what? I expect there to be fifty votes in opposition. If the absolute most you can hope to accomplish is to remind them that they, even with Lieberman, don’t have a majority either, then for fuck’s sake do it. That is what we asked for, literally, in the last election.

And then, they veto it. Dick-in-Bush. The Blackhats.

What I’m looking for now is a whole bunch of you bastards, especially the democrats, to resubmit the same bill or as close as you can get to it, over and over and over. Ad goddamn nauseum.

Help me out here, is that too much to ask?

Newsflash you spineless pricks, the majority in this country will not accuse you of undermining our troops. As Kucinich pointed out, there’s enough money in the pipeline to get them home. The ones that would point that finger are just plain stupid. You can’t help them and you won’t reach them. They are those that would embrace Nixon, they dwell in the hydrilla.

Now I know that the lot of you, being politicians, are shameless harlots, so here’s your chance to suck up to THE MAJORITY. Democrats aren’t used to this and they are as a group, usually pretty shy. Well, what they are, are sniveling whiny cowards. Petunias all.

So you caved. Wilted. Pissed yourselves and darted away with the look of stupid eyed pigeons. 10 out of 50 democrats in the Senate had enough sack to do the right thing.

I still like Biden. I still like them all. But Edward’s point was both germane and salient. We now have a chance, for the first time in seven cold years, to swing a hard hook to the head of Dick-in-Bush and there’s no reason we shouldn’t. We are right. They are wrong. And they’ve made it obvious.

Instead our esteemed and newly elected body politic gets held down by a few bullies, is forced into a tutu, smeared with lipstick and pisses itself before entering the cafeteria to cast it’s vote.

If some greater number of you don’t start to own your own souls, we’re gonna end up with a new Puppet Mayor Arsonist Laureate.

Is Richardson wearing a toupe’?

Drinks for my vertebrates.

“Got one foot out the door
Time to hit the road
Ain’t no match for your mean ol’ man
I think it’s time to roll”-Van Halen

Is Richardson sporting a toop?

I liked Biden’s anger and conviction on Darfur.

The tone was actually good. The issues were appropriate.

It was, dare I say, somewhat informative. Gasp!

Understand, this is my sports. Beyond my altruistic and civic concerns, there exists a prurient interest as well. I like that Edwards came out swinging.

Obama and Clinton were of stately composure. Neither looking to pick a fight. Both, willing and able to trade punches.

Kucinich did well. He’s catching a little fire. He rocked the convention yesterday. Did you see his wife? The fact that she needs to lean down to talk to him makes him just a little cooler in my book. Underdog. Yet, a mouse that is roaring. I like this man.

I understand she has a tongue ring. Sheezus. Everyone from Martha and Joe Bob to Nathaniel and Felicity are gonna have serious reservations about a First Lady with a hole in her tongue and an ornament hanging out of it.

Thus far this pale little soup smelling vegetarian has my vote. He looks the least presidential but he has gargantuan balls. There’s a fine line between clever and stupid. A narrower swath than you would imagine between courage and idiocy.

This man is very brave and very smart.

I’m watching CNN on a Tivo delay so I just heard some asshole who used to work for Romney and McCain say Kucinich is completely irrelevant.

Look, I understand it’s early and I understand that my horse is looking like a gelding among a handful of very fast stallions. But this man is the real deal. He’s the only one to speak truth to power. He says impeach Cheney, pull the troops now, he calls out the big insurance and pharma lobbies on health care, his voting record is proof of a man with the courage of his convictions.

The best I can realistically hope for is that he gains some ground as America wakes up and therefore, a little more mass. Just enough to hang in there for awhile, enough to steer the national dialog.

Either way, he has my vote. I’m so fucking done with the lesser of two evils. Fuck pragmatic in the neck. I think it’s time to stretch. This hasn’t been good enough for a long time.

Despite the idea of Mr Kucinich winning the nomination being akin to betting an infant won’t fill it’s britches with mustard colored shit, He can and should be a pivot in this process.

Speaking of shit, he and his people will require lungs that can refine it into oxygen. They are going to have to positively brawl to keep this spunky little bastard relevant. To do that, they’ll all need to embrace the big picture. He will not get the nomination. And he will not be invited to be a running mate. But he still may be the most important horse in this race.

He is the only one not politicking. The only one not fucking around. The only one saying exactly what he thinks and intends to do if given the chance. He pledges to go after NAFTA and the WTO. He’ll end the war and impliment a truly green energy policy.

This man is not here to fuck around.

Neither am I. Absent some clusterfuck involving his integrity, Dennis Kucinich has my vote.

Please pay attention.

Drinks for my friends.

So, it’s Memorial Day.

Happy Memorial Day.

What’s that supposed to mean?

No matter which side of the the current conflict you’re on, how could anyone possibly be happy about it?

Today we’re supposed to reflect on and be grateful for those who have served and survived as well as those who have fallen. I am. I am grateful. It is a sacrifice that I cannot imagine.

I remember my uncle Danny. He came to stay with us after serving in Vietnam and an honorable discharge from the army. I was five or six. He was quiet but happy to be home. We slept in the same room and the dial of his radium painted watch glowed perpetually in the dark. He had a bullet scar on his shoulder. He was the youngest of my mother’s ten siblings.

A number of my uncles were in the military and even a few cousins. My father’s brother fought, my father was declared 4F. Besides my father’s brother Eldon, who fought in WWII and whom I didn’t really know, uncle Danny was the only one in my extended family to see combat.

Funny how they both ended up abusing alcohol.

As far as I know, he’s uttered aproximately two sentences about it in forty years. I was present for one of those sentences last summer at a family renunion. I was drunk and so was he, I don’t remember what he said.

I then got drunker with cousins Angie, Todd, Rob, shithead Rod, Derrick my coolest inlaw cousin and his wife Marlow………….it goes on and on. Tyke and Bobby, Fred and Sharon, John and Jody, Birdy and Ken, Jim and Carlene, Uncle Larry and Und uncle Skip (Skid), Shirley and Bob…………….It was a big ass collection of at least half crazy white people in the woods of eastern Washington State. You would not have wanted to stumble into that camp after dark if you were a stranger. Most of the Hardings keep a gun close by and so do most of the inlaws. I digress.

Uncle Danny is the sum of my experience with a combat veteran. Like I said, he hasn’t had much to say.

So I’ve got no legitimate personal stake in this. But it really chaps my ass. It’s wrong. Everyone is starting to realize it. Finally.

Once you buy that it’s a lie, and that’s a crucial step because it is, there’s really not much left other than the loss of life.

The emperor is naked and really disgusting to look at. He and his administration are why everyone is dying and having their limbs blown off and brains spilling out of their fucking heads.

The world used to love us because of our global exploits in the name of “Freedom”. Now, they hate us.

Newsflash you asshats: They don’t hate us because of Rosie O’donnell, they hate us because of Dick-in-Bush. And so do I.

Just yesterday I heard some fucktard on the radio trying to make a case for Rosie not supporting the troops and equating them to terrorists. This empty, jingoistic, rhetorical whaleshit is beginning to fossilize.

In other words, that dog don’t hunt. That brush don’t hold no paint. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that if you disagree with the previous two sentiments, you’re either stupid or ignorant. Perhaps willfully ignorant, a fate worse than passing a stone.

It’s all over but the dying. How long that goes on is up to our elected and our ability to sneak smoldering coals into their anal clefts.

Nearly thirty thousand Americans wounded and approaching thirty five hundred dead. Estimates of Iraqi dead are well north of a half million. Nothing accomplished and for no fucking reason. In fact, not only nothing accomplished but an actual deficit in that regard.

This is really stupid and so are we. I agree with Sean Penn. They should all be in fucking jail for what they have done.

Drinks for my friends. Happy holiday.

Disclaimer: Although what I’m about to pontificate at
length upon is purposefully incendiary and willfully
derogatory, to say that democrats are bad is to
presuppose republicans are not only worse, but far
more obtuse and cowardly.

Anyway.

I’m fucking sick of spineless democrats.
When high noon spanks the day, they wring their hands
and flee with nervous puke leaking and spraying from
their lips.

Yesterday, a war funding bill was passed by our
legislative branch and it was absent any mention of a
timetable. Not even a hint or a sigh about when we
may consider an end to this madness.

I expected that.

What has my panties in a bundle, not to mention a
cluster of cacti in my anal cleft, is the fact that
the vote in the House was 86 to 194 and the vote in
the Senate was 14 to 80.

The ’06 elections were a clear clarion for sea change.
The callow and confused freshmen of the jackass party
were afforded the priviledge of office for various
reasons, the most of which was an implied promise to
put an end to this mendacity propelled violence and to
at least try to steer us from the impending global
clusterfuck.

Here’s a few more numbers for ya:
Bush 28%
Cheney 9%
Support for the war 29%
Support for withdrawl 60+%

Allow me to cut to the chase in case you’re slow. At
the end of yesterday, the legislative math was nearly
the polar opposite of the will of the people. What
planet are these assholes on and who the fuck do they
imagine themselves to be?

Yes, planes hit the towers. No, they didn’t knock
them down.

George Bush doesn’t hate black people. Unless they’re
poor.

Karl Rove and Dick Cheney are far more evil than
stupid. Unfortunately, that’s a mouthful that will
leave you gagging and heaving.

While Dick-in-Bush usurp control of the judicial
branch, our newly elected legislative branch throws a
clot and collapses into a malingering puddle of liquid
shit.

The truth is this. People are dying in ever
accelerating numbers for what is certainly one of the
greatest lies ever told. Finally, Americans are
forced to see this woman for what she is; a pink eyed, snot snouted, sticky, filth festooned, garishly made up pig in tattered fishnets and fuck me pumps that it cannot even cross a room in.

Yep, if it wasn’t so profoundly goddam tragic it would be sick
fucking funny.

10 democrats voted nay in the Senate and 140 in the
House. All the rest voted in a state of fear, avarice
and stupidity.

Drinks for my friends.