Monday, June 30, 2008
On Saturday afternoon, we had friends over for a cookout. When I say "friends" I mean that it's a woman who is friends with Wifey, her utterly worthless husband, and their spawn. There are three spawn, stair-stepped at 2-4-6. This is slightly younger than our children, but not so bad that they couldn't all play together.
Or they could have, if only the spawn hadn't been a ravening pack of malicious barbarians intent on wandering through the house on a quest of destruction.
I did the barbecuing, which was great: I like fire, I like singeing meat, and since it was raining I got to retreat to the backyard for privacy from time to time. Never have so few hamburgers cooked for so long.
Now, when I'm over at somebody's house as a guest at a barbecue, I generally do two things: I try to help with the barbecue so I can learn a few new tips and tricks, and I keep an eye on my children so they don't wander all over the damn place and cause trouble.
But I'm old-fashioned like that. Mr. Locust felt no such compunction, only occasionally telling the eldest spawn not to wander off. Typically this comment was addressed to empty air because he had, in fact, wandered away to tear down the curtains in an adjacent room or to try to break the heads off the Barbie dolls.
The youngest spawn spent most of her time trying to eat inappropriate things and peeing on the steps. The spawn in the middle was largely absent from the proceedings, having wandered two yards away and gotten fascinated with a chained-up man-eating pit bull.
But if her parent's weren't concerned, I wasn't going to be, either. And I vigorously deny that I put the steak sauce on her that enticed the dogs into a feeding frenzy.
About an hour into the plague, my daughter leaned over and whispered loudly "I can't wait for them to leave!"
"Me neither!" I responded in kind. "But we have to humor them for mommy's sake!"
Finally, after several fistfights and repeated journeys by Wifey to the upper floors of the house to retrieve one of the spawn, my daughter, or me, they left. We received a heart-felt apology from Wifey once they'd gone that went something like this:
"Dear family, I am so sorry about what just happened. If you would like to spend the rest of the day playing Wii, I will not complain, and I assure you that I will fix you any dinner that you wish tonight as penance for what you have all just suffered, if you will only forgive me for this."
"No problem!" said the girl. She always settles too early.
"I want pizza and ice cream!" said the boy. He's greedy, but easily forgives.
"I want nudity," I said. I then leaned in close and propositioned her in a filthy fashion not fit for a family-oriented humor blog.
She readily agreed to my proposition out of guilt. And let's be honest: guilt sex is second only to make-up sex.
I already invited the Locust Family back next week.
Chairman Howard Dean said in a statement that "the Republican-driven image of Democrats being soft on security is a fable, and this list shows that we will look tyrants in the eye and tell them 'enough.' The American people know that the Democrats, and our potential nominee, will protect our way of life regardless of the cost."
The list includes:
"He might try to fool you by dressing like Uncle Sam, but this unpatriotic grease-grubber wants to fatten us up for totalitarian slaughter. Only through dietary purity can we hope to achieve balance with our planet and our own health. Eating fried foods is not only unhealthy; it's unethical, unenvironmental, and unpatriotic."
"There hasn't been a mustache this threatening since the heyday of Yosemite Sam, shooting up the streets of Gold Gulch until a brave rabbit managed to stop him. Well, the DNC symbol might be a donkey, but we have the heart of a rabbit, and we'll stand up against this warmonger and see him tried in The Hague for the next thirty years to ensure that justice is done."
"Mouth organ of the neo-conservative warmongering latter-day Nazis that seek to dissemble instead of dialogue. Anchors are little more than administration spokespeople on a wide variety of issues from repressing the urban poor to disbanding unions to starting new wars to distract from an economy that is swirling down a toilet of chaos and despair."
"When CEOs are driven around in giant luxury automobiles and you have to share a tandem bicycle just to go to work, you know that the capitalist system has become unbalanced to the breaking point. So it's time to slap a windfall profit on these people, because 10% IRR is just way too much."
Friday, June 27, 2008
“We agreed on the conference call that we would coordinate our endorsements for maximum effect,” Mugabe said. “But then Kim, Hugo, and Fidel all rushed ahead to endorse Obama without waiting for me. They know it’s not easy to rig an election! I’m busy here!”
Observers said that Mugabe was also upset about the diplomatic slap given to him by Queen Elizabeth. “He’s mad because an 82-year-old woman has given him such disrespect,” said one. “He’s been getting a free ride from everybody else as he happily burned his way through political opponents, so it was a rude awakening when she took away his knighthood. He was so despondent he almost couldn’t finish his arugula sandwich at the latest UN summit on world hunger.”
Responding to Mugabe’s disappointment, Kim Jong-Il said “I use cat pee to make my hair stand up!”
“It is not allowed to demean the dignity of the most high,” Joseph Palermo, one of the Obamic scholars at the Huffington Academy said. “He must be treated with the respect due an incarnation of greatness. It is never acceptable to mock Obama, may his election be guaranteed.”
Palermo said that Stewart’s comment that it was all right to laugh at the candidate was wrong, and a misreading of Obamic law. “It is never acceptable to laugh at Obama, may his election be guaranteed. There are forces of darkness, called Republicans, who stalk the land seeking to discredit the Ordained One. No believer must help them, and they must be shunned wherever found.”
“Stewart has helped these dark forces, and he must pay penance and seek forgiveness before he can be considered one of the faithful again,” Palermo added. “I am glad that he is on television, because all supporters will know him, and how to find him, if Obamic justice must be administered.”
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
We can assume that he’ll want people like him, who have a strong moral compass, like to antagonize their allies, and insist they’re pure despite immersing themselves in pseudo-scandals. Where can you find people like this?
In cop movies, of course.
Sec. Defense: Axel Foley
It’s clear that the old-fashioned “do what we want or we’ll blow you up” style of SecDef doesn’t work. Just ask Donald Rumsfeld. So we need a new approach. And wouldn’t you prefer to see the US put bananas in Iran’s tailpipes to shut down their economy rather than raining cluster bombs down on them? I’m sure Iran would.
Attorney General: Judge Dredd
Dredd’s signature phrase, “I am the law”, will put him in good standing with the current standard of judicial thinking, which holds itself accountable to no one.
HUD: Adrian Monk
I’d just like to see Monk use his mind powers to help figure out a way to make his native city not a volatile mix of the militant homeless and uber-rich neo-socialists. After that he can go to work on the rest of the country.
Sec. of Energy: Max Walker (from Timecop)
I don’t know what they use to power the time machine, but I’ll bet it’s fission or solar wind or boob jiggle or something. He’d be a big help to us, I’m sure, so long as you don’t let him touch himself.
Sec. of the Interior: Jack Taggart (Fire Down Below)
In addition to being committed to the well-being of the environment, the interior of Taggart has almost quadrupled over the past ten years. So we have a candidate here who has both interest and experience. You can’t go wrong with that.
Sec. of Commerce: Agent Smith
Who knows the intertubes better than Agent Smith? Nobody, that’s who. Okay, it is true that he has this whole mavericky streak about wanting to enslave humanity to use them as living batteries for his mainframe master. But it’s not like he’s torturing them, or discriminating against illegals, or anything like that.
Vice President: Rita Rizzoli (Fatal Beauty)
If the presidential election is like a high-stakes poker game, then this move would be McCain’s way of saying to Democrats “I’ll see your minority, and raise you a minority.”
Sec. of Veteran’s Affairs: Roger Murtaugh
Even though he’s just one day from retirement, I’m sure that he’ll stick around to help correct the numerous problems in the VA hospitals and other services for our wounded warriors. As a plus, he has experience dealing with mentally unstable former vets, which I understand describes 78% of all Iraq War returnees. The other 22% are, of course, in prison.
Sec. of Homeland Security: John McClain
I don’t know about the rest of you, but when I think of vigorous homeland security, I think of this guy killing a bunch of Germans who were trying to take over a skyscraper. I know some people might be worried about his volatile temper, but this is the guy I want out there in the night protecting me from bad people.
Director of Drug Control Policy: McBain
Who knows more about Mendoza’s nefarious network of drug smugglers and hit men than McBain, who has been pursuing him for years? With all the resources of the Federal government behind him, McBain might finally be able to make traction in the War on Drugs, now entering its twentieth year.
Chariman of the Federal Reserve: Sonny Crocket
How is it that a Miami vice cop lives in an oceanfront condo, wears expensive suits, drives expensive cars, and dates supermodels? I don’t know, but put this guy in charge of the money. The only problem is that the US Treasurer might end up getting kidnapped all the time, just like the rest of his girlfriends.
Director of National Intelligence: Jack Cates
Okay, it is true that he didn’t figure out who the Iceman was despite numerous clues and the sinister background music, but we all learn from our mistakes, right? The only problem is his laissez-faire attitude about torture might not jive with McCain.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
“We’re taking these allegations very seriously,” said Samantha Wright, head of the Advisor Program. “Our profilers tell us we’re dealing with a sociopath here, who time and again hurls those who displease him beneath a rhetorical bus at the first sign of trouble. We don’t want Mr. Holder to become his latest victim.”
Agents said that Holder was being held in a secure location “to prevent anyone from getting to know him better and discovering that they didn’t know him very well to begin with.”
This weekend we hosted another child overnight. In addition to confirming my decision to have a vasectomy, it gave me an abiding dislike of the parent of the other child. I’m sure she’s a wonderful parent, it’s just that her son is, well, kind of a doofus.
See, the other parent was in a bind and needed somebody to watch little Doofus overnight because of a work function. So like all conniving parents she created the idea that little Doofus wanted to come have a sleepover with my son. After brainwashing Doofus into this idea, she suggested it, and like fools we agreed without consulting the boy.
When I told him about it, my son asked if he could have a sleepover the same night at somebody else’s house. This was the first sign of trouble. Apparently, he doesn’t care for Little Doofus.
The second sign of trouble was when it became apparent that little Doofus was in love with my daughter, to the point of wanting to eat, drink, and go to the bathroom with her. She took it all pretty well, except the whole bathroom thing.
Her first stalker at only 8 years old. Should I be proud?
I kept telling her she could solve that by punching him, but her school has taught her to be nonviolent and resolve things by “negotiation.” It’s no wonder we can’t get Iran to give up nukes, if we’re teaching kids that it’s not okay to punch people who try to go to the can with you.
But I digress. We quickly discovered Little Doofus’ favorite phrase: “I’m the guest, so…”
You can follow that with whatever you want: I get to go first, I get the biggest piece, I get to pick my nose, whatever. I don’t know where this piece of lifestyle advice came from, but it forms the cornerstone of Little Doofus’ world view: guests pee on your leg and tell you it’s raining.
He’d been there an hour when my son was begging me to let him go play at somebody else’s house. I had to admit the logic was pretty sound: Little Doofus liked his sister better anyways, and that way my son could be a guest and do whatever the hell he wanted, too.
I begged Wifey to let me take the boy over to another kid’s house, maybe a kid two countries away, but she wouldn’t let me. She didn’t like Little Doofus either and didn’t want to be stuck with him..
We sorted out Little Doofus as best we could, telling him that we still had to share and all that crap. I was never so glad for bedtime to come as I was that night. I would have drunk away my sorrows, but Wifey (who is a teetotaler) beat me to the booze.
The next morning, we got everybody up and ready to go to church. My son, knowing that Doofus’ mom would collect him there, got up at 5 AM and was trying to convince us to hit the road “so we can get there on time.”
I thought it was a good plan, but Wifey wouldn’t hear of it. Killjoy.
When we did finally get to church, Doofus’ mommy was nowhere to be seen. The service started, there was plenty of music and blah-blah, but still no Madame Doofus.
“If she doesn’t show up,” my wife whispered. “I’m going to kill you.”
“Why me?” I asked.
“Because I can’t kill Doofus.”
“That hardly seems fair,” I said. “Why don’t you kill Madame Doofus?”
“Because she’s not here, dipshit!”
Finally Madame Doofus rolled in, about fifteen minutes late, and her little angel immediately rushed to her to tell her what an awful time he had.
But wait! It wasn’t over! After church, Doofus sidled up to me with something and told me that my son had “given” it to him.
Listen, I know my boy, and he doesn’t give away his toys, particularly not to children he’d rather see beaten by a playground bully. Particularly not the object in question. So I asked Doofus, “what will he say if I ask him about it?”
“You don’t have to ask him,” Doofus said. “He told me to tell you he gave it to me.”
Curiouser and curiouser.
Notably, after the bonding of the previous 24 hours, my son was physically as far from Doofus as the room would allow, in the far corner of the room, hunkered behind a row of plastic chairs with guards posted out front. He had left strict orders that Doofus was not to be admitted.
“Let’s go see, then.” I drug Doofus over and informed my son of the situation: “Doofus here says you gave this to him. Is that true?”
“What?” He looked at me like I had three heads sprouting from my shoulders. “That’s not supposed to leave my room! What’s it doing here? Where did it come from? I didn’t give that to anybody. Give it back now, you dirty thief! GUARDS! OFF WITH HIS HEAD!”
He was actually gesturing at me, but since his guards consisted of Wifey and the girl, I felt pretty safe. I informed little Doofus that there’d been some sort of misunderstanding, and that I didn’t think this arrangement made any sense. I made sure to put the item in question in my pocket, because you can’t be too careful about these things.
Doofus tried one last tactic: “You know, I was the guest, so I should get to keep that.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” I said. “Why don’t I get you a nice, frosty glass of lead paint to drink? It’s paint-tastic!”
“Dad!” The girl yelled. “Don’t do that! It’s poisonous!”
Damn kids. What are they teaching them these days?
Sticky-Fingered Doofus ran off, upset, never to be heard from again.
“And don’t come back!” Wifey yelled after him.
“Yeah!” Yelled the boy. “And stay away from my sister!”
While I don’t necessarily approve of yelling it, I heartily agreed with the sentiment.
So let’s just take this story to its ultimate denouement, shall we? Because I hate things that are half-done.
SMOKEY ROOM, Washington: A sinister cabal loyal to John McCain continues to labor in secret to find the perfect running mate for the volcanically-tempered former POW, whose Navy career consisted of crashing planes and being captured by the enemy.
The clique is headed by Arthur B. Culvahouse, Jr, a lawyer famous inside the beltway for his work as a tight-lipped, high-flying, corporate troubleshooter, akin to films such as “The Firm” or “Michael Clayton.”
In the past he has represented giant firms that acted against the interests of the American people. Now, he’s slinking about Washington, skulking in the halls of power intent on doing more damage to the very fiber of the Republic.
Few are privy to the clandestine details of the machinations of this junta, but it is certain that they seek only to slake the dark thirst of their master for power over the American people, and possible prolongation of an unjust war that has cost countless lives.
Compare this villainy to Barack Obama’s “Sunlight Search,” which has been carried on in the open and is more of an independent self-directed team looking for a moon to properly reflect the benevolent light from the Democratic candidate.
The open-minded Obama has declared that his VP search team “works for no one” and is willing to accept the assistance of anyone, even allowing reformed sinners like Jim Johnson to help search for his eventual running mate.
The other key members of his team are an experienced political operative and the famous daughter of America’s royal family, the Kennedys. It is hoped that soon they will announce the candidate who gets to bask in Obama’s warming glowing warming glow.
However, no such announcement will be forthcoming from the black hole of the McCain camp, which may not announce their running mate until after the election. Rumors, as yet unconfirmed, are that possible candidates include Mitt Romney, Bobby Jindal, and Beelzebub, Dark Lord of the Pit.
“This is an issue that we need to tackle now, by trimming surplus human population and crippling the economy, before it becomes too late,” Hansen said in his statement. “The Northwest Passage, closed since the age of dinosaurs, will open up and expose our northern waterways to ice floes that will regularly come from the North Pole. On these frozen barges, likely guided by pilot monkeys, will come the Polar Bears, seeking to extract vengeance for our wanton consumerism.”
Hansen painted a bleak picture for cities on the Great Lakes such as Chicago or Detroit. “Armies of these giant, killer bears wandering desolate cities, eating what few survivors remain trying to glean a life off of rainwater and abandoned radioactive sludge,” Hansen predicted. “Then, the Bears will strike south, down the Mississippi, rupturing fragile levees and destroying farmland like a plague of two-ton carnivorous locusts.”
After his statement Hansen answered questions, saying at one point that “it’s now time to panic, crack each other’s heads open and feast on the goo inside.”
Monday, June 23, 2008
“Basically, Huck’s upset that he’s not getting the attention of major-league faith leaders like Father Pflegler or Reverend Wright,” said one source. “And he figures that since those guys got a lot of attention by being close to Obama and spewing anti-white hate, he’ll try the other side of the coin and go traditional racist.”
The former staffer said the plan is probably what prompted Obama’s bizarre claims over the weekend about upcoming Republican tactics. “When Obama said that Republicans would try racist attacks, this was probably what he had in mind,” the confidential source said. “It’s pretty well-established this campaign that white guys from Arkansas are going to use racist code words to criticize Barack. And you know who’s a white guy from Arkansas? Mike Huckabee.”
But not everyone agreed that the gaffe would be race-related. “I think he’ll question Obama’s sexuality,” said one former Huckabee volunteer now working on the Bob Barr campaign. “Huck wants to be the populist demagogue, and he can’t do that as long as Obama has the fruitcake coalition sewn up. But if he can get those swooning nimrods up front at Brother Huck’s Socialist Revival, watch out!”
Sec. Defense: Eric, Cavalier, Dungeons and Dragons
He seems to fit all of the requisite Obama patterns: emphasizes defense over offense, is young, has no experience, is an utter coward, and succeeds despite his own overwhelming incompetence. The only negative here is that he might overshadow Obama himself, and that would be bad. You don’t eclipse the sun, baby.
Attorney General: Tenderheart Bear, Care Bear
I can’t imagine that in Obama’s America we’d waste our time chasing after mobsters and drug dealers, but I can well imagine that we’d get those nasty people who spread hate and discontent taken care of (like the religious right and gun nuts). And that’s really what the Care Bears were all about, wasn’t it? It’s not that some people are bad; they’re just misguided, and after a good Care Bear Stare they’ll be straightened out and start singing kumbayah.
HUD: Bob the Builder
Listen, he’s gotta reward Bob with something after stealing his catch phrase. So why not this? Bob likes to build, so this seems like a good fit with his talents. Who else is he gonna pick, Jimmy Carter?
Sec. of Energy: Captain Planet
It took all five of the power rings to bring Captain Planet forth, and one of them is in the hands of the Russians. So, like Europe, we’d be in thrall to a chinless doofus for all our energy needs. Hey, that’s being international, right?
Sec. of Commerce: Wimpy, from Popeye
Wimpy would gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today. This dovetails well with Obama’s grasp of economics and markets: he’ll gladly pay Tuesday for a massive social welfare program today.
Sec. of the Interior: Ent, from Lord of the Rings
Enough of this memo BS to cut down on logging and environmentally-damaging activity. If Obama can convince this guy to mobilize thousands of trees to enter the forest and destroy logging equipment, so much the better.
Vice President: The Watcher
The Watcher pretty much fills in every gap that Obama needs: for every month of Obama’s experience, the Watcher has centuries. He’s a Caucasian male that comes from a very rural background (the Moon), so he can connect with those bitter rednecks that keep rejecting Obama. And he sits around with his thumb up his ass all the time doing nothing, having taken a vow of nonintervention, meaning that his foreign-policy goals dovetail nicely with Obama’s.
Sec. of Veteran’s Affairs: Big Gun, from The Tick
This guy pretty much typifies the Democratic view of former vets, I think.
Sec. of Homeland Security: Destro, from GI Joe
When it’s revealed that Destro is in fact an arms dealer who promotes world chaos, Obama will call it a distraction and say it’s not important. Then there will be further revelations, followed by his ultimate removal “to help keep the administration focus on underinsured kids.” Then, Obama will nominate Cobra Commander for this post.
Director of Drug Control Policy: Fritz the Cat
As we slump into a second coming of the 60’s-era sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll, I say just sit back and enjoy the entropy
Chariman of the Federal Reserve: Starlight, My little pony
Don’t laugh: those fluorescent-colored ponies are a money machine. And isn’t the Fed’s job to print money even when there isn’t any? It’s something like that, I think. Like Obama, I can’t be bothered to learn anything about the economy.
Director of National Intelligence: Inspector Gadget
Who better to help modernize our antiquated intelligence-gathering than Inspector Gadget? Unfortunately, without Penny or his long-suffering dog, the bumbling Gadget will likely wind up failing to keep us safe from the likes of Dr. Claw.
[Lest I be accused of being partisan, we’ll take a look at McCain’s later this week]
“It seems like every Democratic peer is working on his own little Nobel Prize proposal now,” said one insider. “First Al Gore wins a Nobel Peace Prize for a home-movie slide show, now this. We can’t get any progress on our goals as a party.”
Party chairman Howard Dean is said to be very concerned about the issue, but is busy writing his memoirs of the 2008 campaign: “The Audacity of Hype: How My Leadership Transformed Rancor into Victory.”
One Hill staffer said that Nancy Pelosi has been shut in her for two months working on a treatise titled “We Cant’ Drill our Way to Lower Oil Prices: why supply and demand no longer apply.”
“She’s hell-bent on proving Adam Smith wrong,” the staffer said. “It’d be a big shock to generations of economics majors if she turned out to be right, though.”
Pelosi is not the only Democratic congressmember hoping for the Economics Prize. A group of Senate Democrats are feverishly writing a detailed thesis on why their loans are just like everybody else’s loans, titled “Opportunity Costs and Friendly Loans: Why Time Spent at Angelo’s Cocktail Parties was So Not Worth It.”
Other notable Nobel entries in preparation:
We can’t kill our way to victory: by Jack Murtha.
Though Murtha hopes to submit this for the Peace Prize, those knowledgeable of the project say it will actually be for the Nobel Prize for Literature because it is his firsthand account of “the true story of the Haditha massacres.”
We can’t convict our way to lower crime rates: by William Jefferson.
Submitted for the Nobel Prize in medicine because of it’s ground-breaking study that all criminals are not at all to be blamed for their crimes and should be let off scot free. It also includes a taunt at Chris Dodd, saying that “only fools are bribed for less than 5G.”
We can’t feed people out of starvation by Harry Reid
Submitted for the Nobel Prize for Agriculture, which doesn’t exist, but which Reid is hoping they will create in order to give him a million dollars. Rumors that Reid has contributed a large swath of land in Nevada for a Nobel Museum are unconfirmed.
Yes, we can! By Barack Obama
Submitted for the Nobel Prize for Being Barack Obama. This statue has already been cast and the hall rented out for the awards ceremony; it has only to be formally awarded to make it a fait accompli.
Home Brewing the Kennedy Way by Patrick Kennedy
Submitted for the Nobel Prize in Chemistry.
Is there any other way to explain how this “modeling” (which consists of some moron making stuff up based on population and GNP) can be so badly off, yet get so much coverage? Who’s more to blame: the accounting company that can’t count, or the Journalism major with a short memory and no math knowledge whatsoever?
I blame George Bush.
This year PWC predicts that China will win more medals than the US. Maybe so, maybe not. But if we jump in the wayback machine, we can see what this same crew of cretins predicted for 2004 in Athens.
Why is this important? Because we hear about mathematical models all the time, and how we’re supposed to trim carbon emissions or prepare for the end of the world or pay more taxes or whatever, and the fact is that a lot of them are fucking wrong! If J-school majors could get this through their thick heads, the world would be a better place.
Pardon my vehemence, but science is to charlatans today what medicine-shows were once upon a time: a tool to fool the uninitiated rubes and get backing for otherwise cockamamie plans that aren’t even worth a snort of derision.
We really ought not be making major, society-changing, future-altering decisions on models with an accuracy rate under 10%. Just sayin’. And if you think predicting the Olympics is harder than forecasting the climate in 100 years, just consider that there are a finite number of Olympic events with well-defined rules and you more or less know everyone who will participate in them and how well they generally do.
Except Figure Skating, where the only rules are don’t club Nancy Kerrigan and be sure to pay off the French judge.
In 2004, PWC predicted 70 medals for the US in Athens. In actuality, the US won 102. If they’d just voted for a repeat of 2000, then they’d have predicted 97 medals. Why would the US win 27 fewer medals? PWC didn’t bother to try to explain; they just accepted what the model told them. Just don’t question their patriotism.
Hey, dipshit, if the model also tells you to bend over and stick a Bunsen burner up your ass, you gonna do that, too?
PWC further predicted 64 medals for Russia (who won 92), 50 for China (who won 63), and 29 for Greece (who won 16). Overall, they were 30% off the actual medal count.
There’s a word for this, and it isn’t “close.”
PWC predicted India would take 10 medals in 2004. In actuality? 1. This is why this year the PWC hack says that “India remains a ‘significant underperformer’” and then gives some BS reasons why it’s so, then goes on to forecast 6 medals for them in 2008.
I guess the same reasoning applied in 2004 to Mexico (11 predicted, 4 won), Indonesia (11 predicted, 4 won), and Switzerland (10 predicted, 5 won). So maybe the whole blah-blah they do about cricket doesn’t work for all those nations, but I’m sure it’s something like that.
Maybe PWC just sucks at predicting. Is that not possible?
Here’s my bargain-basement medal prediction: every country will win more or less the same number of medals that the won last year. And in 4 years, the dicks from Pricewaterhouse Coopers Dumbass will once again issue a medal prediction that will be totally wrong.
Seriously, why would you hire these jerkoffs? Somebody, somewhere, receives money from PWC for this idiocy. That means that if you hire them, you’re paying for this.
I predict that it’s money poorly spent.
Friday, June 20, 2008
My general plan right now is to continue to blog here with the more personal stuff: travelogues, musings, and general weirdness. I’m not planning on having another vasectomy, so I doubt I’ll recreate the magic of that particular saga, but you never know.
Over there I’ll do political stuff, likely cross-posted at Real Debate Wisconsin and also here (probably with a delay). I doubt I can write effectively for 3 blogs, so I’ll have to crib myself just to keep up with demand.
Yes, there’s a demand for my writing. I have ten whole readers a day, and I’m not even related to three of them! But rest assured that you can expect to continue to read the same high-quality posts from me that you’ve always enjoyed.
Don’t believe me? Just take a look at Clampett’s crimes against humanity:
He drilled for oil!
Without a permit, no less. Listen, drilling for oil is bad. This is one of those things that both major candidates can agree on. I’m sure it’s because oil drilling rigs use baby kittens as lubricant, cause massive environmental damage that kills rare and beautiful animals, and despoils pristine land masses, like nude beaches. And Clampett just up and drilled away.
He owned guns!
In some ways, this is even worse than drilling for oil. I hope and pray that the day will come when this nation will give up its obsession with weapons and let the government confiscate them all, leading to a new age of peace and freedom, just like in the UK, where surveillance cameras now capture every second of you being stabbed to death in public as people rush by on their errands.
He had a CO2 footprint bigger than Mecha-Godzilla!
Not only did he have that big oil well spewing toxic gasses all over, his gigantic mansion lacked even rudimentary energy-saving devices. What’s worse, he insisted on driving around an overloaded rattle-trap truck with no emissions control systems.
He exploited the natives!
There’s an episode of the Beverly Enviro-Rapists about how part of Jed’s land actually belongs to the local natives, but he’s never sold it to them or let them have any profit or even let them build a casino. Is it that much of a stretch to imagine that one of Jed’s ancestors, knowing full well the mineral value of the land, hoodwinked them for trinkets and beads?
He took special favors from banks!
On second thought, this is apparently a-OK for members of congress and other high-interest people. So at least on this score, he’s a real American hero.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
At the center of the investigation are a series of construction deals made between Pooh and Gopher during the development of the Hundred Acre Resort and Casino, from which Pooh and several of his friends profited when HD converted the rural area into one of the country’s hottest resort destinations.
The project had been the source of tensions between Gopher’s company and the local Heffalump residents, who have repeatedly alleged that Pooh and his friends harassed them in order to drive them off of their lands for a fraction of their value.
Saul McKay, spokesman for the Heffalumps, said that his clients were strongarmed into selling lands that had been in the family for generations. “With the financial power of Gopher behind them, Pooh and his friends made my clients out to be vicious, honey-stealing thugs in order to devalue the land and buy it for pennies on the dollar.”
When asked about the issue, an Obama spokesman called it “a distraction from the real issues facing this nation, like mental health care to make sure that everyone doesn’t end up trying to take their own life like Eeyore.”
Responding to the scandal, GOP candidate John McCain repeated his plan to “grant an amnesty to all Woozles living in the US, regardless of how they got here, because that will really upset my so-called Republican base.”
Whenever we conquer somebody, we just end up with a bitchy ally who complains about the way we do things but never lifts a finger to help.
That’s why we need to import the following cultural treasures from other countries and put them to use right now:
The Great Wall of China
The Chinese hardly need this any more. It’s not like the Mongols aren’t going to be coming over the top any time soon. So we might as well bring this to the US and put it to good use between the US and Mexico. We can hire the guys that put London Bridge in Lake Havasu, since they’ve already got experience doing this sort of thing.
Not only is Egypt full of these things, they provide a really tangible benefit to the country that has them: according to the game Civilization, if you build pyramids you get to pick whatever type of government you want! I vote that we switch ours for “competent.”
Russian Tennis Schools
I don’t know whether they’ve got some kind of cloning device in the basement of these places, or a robotics lab, or what. But the reality is this: female Russian tennis players are hot! But they’re wasting their time canoodling with washed-up second-generation singers and stuff. In America we’d realize the full potential of these women in the sport of kings: Foxy Boxing.
Easter Island Heads
The ancient Greeks used to set out Herms everywhere, which were basically heads on top of giant penises. Kind of like a bronze-age Kos Diarist. That’s a little “adult” for the US, but these are the next-best thing: inscrutable giant heads. Environmentalists will really go for this, too, because you can tell them that it’ll make Americans think about saving trees or some crap like that. As if a giant stone head makes you think of a tree.
I’m sure there are other great cultural treasures out there we could grab besides these. If you have any suggestions I’d love to hear ‘em.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
After we returned from Egypt, Grandma and Grandpa visited the beaches of Normandy. They were kind of enough to bring our children souveniers, and explain to them all about the D-Day invasions.
Last week, Wifey and I were in our room when she decided to get frisky. She put on a little Marvin Gaye, slipped into something more comfortable, and began to whisper sweet nothings into my ear.
Our dialogue went like this:
Wifey: “Ah, my darling, you set my soul on fire. And not just a little spark; no, it is a flame. A great, roaring flame!”
Me: “Let me get these pants off!”
Wifey: “I yearn for you, my love. Come to me!”
So we were just settling in under the covers when the door flies open.
Me: “What the hell?”
Son: “BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Die, Nazis, die!”
Daughter: “Blap-blap-blap-blap! Eat lead, Nazi scum!”
Son: “Hey, Nazi, why aren’t you wearing pants?”
So I quickly threw them out, because having the Allies using your bed as a beachhead does not make for a romantic interlude. As they went, my daughter wanted to know what sexual healing was, but I ignored her. Then, I locked the door and returned to the task at hand.
Me: “Tell me about this spark. Better yet, don’t speak at all.”
Wifey: “You know, I-“
CLICK! Son: “Any Nazis out there?”
This is the sound of the “cricket” that grandma and grandpa so thoughtfully bought them. It’s what Allied soldiers used on D-Day behind enemy lines to signal each other. Unfortunately, my children had learned their history too well.
Daughter: “I’m not a Nazi.”
Daughter: “You did it wrong! What are you, a Nazi?”
Son: “I’m not a Nazi!”
Daughter: “I didn’t say you were. But you’re only supposed to click twice.”
Son, crying, pounds on door. “Dad! She said I was a Nazi, but I clicked!”
Daughter: “No I didn’t! I said you only click twice, not three times!”
Me: “I’m slipping twenty bucks under the door! Take it and go!”
Son: “But she said I’m a Nazi!”
Daughter: “Thanks for the money, dad. Come on, let’s go kill some Frenchmen now!”
Son: “I’M NOT A NAZI!”
Wifey: “I’m sorry, I’m just not in the mood any more.”
Me: “But I really wanted to storm your beaches.”
Wifey: “Sorry. You’re going to have to go solo on this one.”
Me: “Stupid Nazis.”
There are three cases to explain what his evil plan is for world domination:
1) Mind-Control Ray
First Gore started beating the drum about environmental dangers and fanning the flames of Bush hatred to reduce mental resistance to suggestion. Next, he worked on his advanced mind-control device, conveniently located in central Tennessee, where he will have a straight shot at the satellites needed to use transmit the signal all over the world.
Then he tests his device, using it to get a Nobel Peace Prize despite the fact that his efforts have yielded no results whatsoever, least of all improving peace, but rather may be responsible for increased violence as food crops are turned into fuel.
Any minute he’ll throw the switch and we’ll suddenly find ourselves compelled to walk to work and live in solar-powered huts, while he and his cronies fly around in private jets telling us how we need to eat more feces to be environmentally responsible.
2) The Weather Machine
We know that Gore is obsessed with the weather. Is it possible that he’s taken up Mark Twain’s ancient challenge to do something about it? Therefore, he’s working day and night on a machine to try to cool the planet, perhaps plunging it into a new ice age.
The Gore Effect? That’s a feature, not a bug.
3) An Army of Bigfeet
Imagine if one day, with access to the secrets of both Area 51 and the government files on Bigfeet roaming in Colorado, the Vice President got the bright idea to use alien technology to create a cybernetically-enhanced race of carbon-neutral Bigfeet to carry out his dark desires to demote humanity back to the Stone Age.
Earth in the Balance was published in 1992, meaning that the first generation of Bigfeet are nearing adulthood. Any day now they will appear and seize control, marking the beginning of a Planet of the Apes style reign of terror.
Our only hope is that a secret service agent can rise up and stop this evil terror, whether it’s Bigfeet, mind-control, or (shudder) Bigfeet with snow cannons and mind-control rays.
But where would we find such a man? Who could possibly infiltrate and destroy this evil genius’ lair?
I don’t know about you, but I vote for this guy:
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
I find your blog very interesting to read. Your way of writing can magnet and lure a lot of visitors/readers. Would you be able to write about our product after visiting our site?
Or if you have a friend who is interested to try our product, we can send you one. From this, you can gain insights and share your friend's experience to us.
Can you guess what product they're pushing? Go on, try and guess. I can wait. What product would they want you to try, but say you might also have a friend who is interested in the product?
I would really be interested to know if you would be able to post your findings/review in your blog http://dailydollop.blogspot.com, it may be a positive or negative one, with links to our site.
I'm no marketing major, but I'm pretty sure when you send out free stuff you kind of hope for a positive review. Especially when your product is:
Penis size enhancment.
Turns out that an auto-crawler looking for "erectile dysfunction" stumbled across last week's phobia post and decided that I needed a little more larder in my garters.
The Internet is a strange, strange place.
[Side note: I'm hung like a donkey on viagra. Just thought you'd want to know that. It's not like I ordered a hundred cases from them or something on the off chance that it works and I can recapture some of my shattered self-esteem.]
“This is actually very good news for the Union,” said EU Spokesperson Reginald DuChamps de Marny. “We are certain that the Irish knew about the tradition, and so when they voted No, they actually meant Yes. So the progress of diminishing national autonomy can continue and we can collect power in Brussels, which is where it belongs.”
Catherine Borney Hump-Skoting said that the tradition also explained the continent’s warm welcome to US President Bush. “We hate the man, forked tail and all. But since it’s opposite week, we have to act like we like him. But France isn’t really going to give military support to any missions overseas, Italy isn’t really going to send soldiers to Iraq, and the US still doesn’t have any prestige overseas.”
She added that “it’s important for US voters to understand that it’s still necessary to vote Democrat to increase prestige overseas, because being well-liked by your peers is more important than anything else in life.”
Others were not so happy with the news. Greg Packer, interviewed on the streets of London, was irate that his country didn’t get a chance to also validate the treaty. “We didn’t get a yes or no vote,” Packer said. “Parliament just rubber-stamps anything Brussels sends to us. It’s like living in Zimbabwe, only with less personal freedom.”
But EU spokespeople disagreed with the Zimbabwe analogy. “We hardly had any beatings,” countered DuChamps de Marny. “Which is obviously a big difference.”
Monday, June 16, 2008
The “Life in Touch with Nature” award has been handed out the last two years by a group of prominent citizens, and is meant to honor those who “help keep our planet clean by controlling consumption, emission, and reproduction.” Past honorees include Madonna and Al Gore.
This year, though, organizers decided to honor homeless people. “Only homeless people live a life that Emerson or Thoreau would recognize as being in touch with nature, taking only what they need from the land,” said organizer Michael Ducarty. “We wanted to honor that, so we rounded up fifteen of them from the streets of LA to give them a hot meal and present them with an award.”
The fight started when one of the homeless men, who identified himself as Napoleon Bauer, discovered that the wine being served was non-alcoholic. In a symbol of protest he stood up on the table of honor and urinated on Mistress of Ceremonies Bea Arthur.
A fight then started, which raged until police arrived to tear gas and separate the two groups. Reports indicated that the citizens, who outnumbered homeless three to one, were next to utter annihilation when riot police intervened.
Bauer told police that “civil disobedience is necessary when somebody using a hobo to feel better about themselves refuses to provide booze. We have feelings too, you know.”
With that in mind let’s take a look at who his VP candidate could be:
The Ghost of Christmas Past
Pros: Will help heal the fractured soul of the Democratic Party, split as it is on the rocky shores of identity politics. Once proposed and passed a law. Has contacts with the Ghost of Christmas Present, a party boy well-known for his ability on the campaign trail.
Cons: Vincent Foster and RFK references will not make for a comfortable four years for President Obama.
Chances: Pretty good, if you assume Obama has an intern chaperone and a food taster.
Pros: Snagged himself a hottie despite the fact that he looks like the son of a troll doll and a lawn gnome. So he’s got something going for him.
Cons: It ain’t genius, because he’s a flaming moron.
Chances: Good, if Obama wants someone to make him look more centrist. Bad if Obama wants to actually win the election.
Pros: Would get her disastrous leadership out of congress and into an impotent position where her catastrophically bad leadership would not damage the party or the country any further.
Cons: The last time a major party did this, they wound up pairing Tippecanoe with Tyler. Thirty days later, Harrison died, Tyler took over, and this led to the secession of Texas from Mexico, which is where George Bush came from.
Chances: Good, if Obama wants to guarantee that the US ends up annexing a rebellious province of Canada (lake Ottawa) that will eventually spawn a Christofascist warmonger. Otherwise bad: why taint himself with her?
Pros: Judging from talk radio and conservative blogs, is essentially an older, crankier, less charismatic version of Obama. With decades and decades of service.
Cons: Is the other nominee, but scuttlebutt says he’s available.
Chances: At the rate McCain is alienating GOP members, fair to middling.
Pros: Can help solidify this whole “I love Israel even though all my advisors hate them” thing that Obama has going on.
Cons: Is a warmongering Zionist.
Chances: Not so good now that Lieberman is bad-mouthing Obama.
Pros: Years of service, including in the military (most famously in 1943’s That’s All, Hitler!). Well-known and beloved movie icon. Love of public nudity and lack of obvious genitalia will appeal to transgendered and nudist constituencies. Speech problems will appeal to the disabled.
Cons: Is a cartoon; of course, much of Obama’s appeal is cartoonish, so this is not a show-stopper.
Chances: Poor. Jews are already suspicious of Obama, and Porky is definitely not Kosher.
Pros: Went above and beyond the call of duty savaging Hillary Clinton while other press members were still in thrall to her by leading the way to calling her a “f***ing whore.” Only major press member to speculate about assassinating his rivals instead of him. Has the most watched show on MSNBC.
Cons: Having the most-watched show on MSNBC is like being the youngest person in a nursing home: nothing to brag about.
Chances: Poor. MSNBC can’t afford to lose him.
Pros: One of the few beatific Lightworkers whose spiritual goodness can hold up favorably to Obama. His stance on non-violent resistance tracks well with Obama’s feelings on war and conflict. Essentially told the Jews they didn’t die in sufficient enough numbers during the Holocaust.
Cons: Is not a US citizen and therefore not eligible for the office of president. Has been dead fifty years.
Chances: Great, if Ben Kingsley will agree to play him for four years.
Pros: Still has one term of service left. Views on Israel are similar to those of other advisors whose views Obama didn’t know until they uttered something horrible in public.
Cons: “Two Carters for the price of one!” probably won’t bring in many voters.
Chances: Superb, since Obama seems to want to have gas shortages and thus complete our “return to the 70’s.”
Earth: the Ultimate MILF
Pros: Hot, hot hot!
Cons: Spends all her time whoring around with Al Gore. Rumored to have gone to third base with John McCain. Largest constituency includes Europeans, who are worthless for anything other than finger-wagging.
Chances: Generally concepts are unable to run for office. This has not yet stopped Obama, though.
Pros: Has experience claiming votes were rigged and implying that a sinister cabal cheated him out of an election. Turned some home-movie slides into an Oscar. Won a Noble Peace Prize.
Cons: More wooden than the totem pole he has stuck up his butt.
Chances: Zero. Gore’s already running for worldwide messiah; why would he want to be vice-messiah of the US?
Friday, June 13, 2008
Would anybody else buy a video game where you took the role of a storm trooper tasked with destroying the Ewoks? You could call it “Grand Theft ATAT: Moons of Endor.”
Does anybody else hurry through metal detectors because they’re worried that they emit some kind of harmful radiation that can potentially cause scabies, lupus, or erective dysfunction?
Has anyone else begun to think that some of the reason college graduates can’t find a job is because they pick stupid majors that nobody pays you to actually practice, like Sociology or Journalism?
Does anybody wish they had a lead overcoat when they go to the store because they’re afraid the anti-theft device could cause lockjaw, shrinkage, or erectile dysfunction? Don’t laugh; I haven’t bought a CD or movie in twelve years because I can’t find a lead overcoat.
Have you ever laid awake at night worrying that your neighbor watched the same horror movie that you did, but was only inspired to start committing atrocities instead of filled with existential dread for his own existence like you were?
Does anybody else avoid the library because you’re worried that the 1950’s-era anti-theft system uses hard radiation, points right at your crotch, and is probably the reason that 99% of all librarians are lesbian women because it afflicted all logophiles with either spontaneous Bobbitation or erectile dysfunction?
Or is all that just me?
If you don’t get that thrill up your leg and go vote for Obama after reading these, then there’s something wrong with you. Specifically, that something is that you’re a racist.
All you need to know about Barack Obama is that he:
Voted “Present” in the Senate but was never present in Church.
Takes spiritual, economic, and foreign policy advice from lots of people, but doesn’t know any of them very well.
Responds to unimportant distractions by having them immediately severed from his campaign.
Consorts with anti-Zionists, but is pro-Israeli himself.
Wants to help the economy by cancelling NAFTA and making sure we don’t sign any new free trade agreements.
Wants to help American workers by ending Union oversight meant to keep out organized crime and doing away with secret balloting to determine whether or not a facility becomes organized.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Sneak into the store undetected, get the roof cut open, and get the safe free, yes. But then the crane would short out and the entire operation would collapse into a mass of failure, with ESPN’s Sportsguy writing a column comparing it to watching Screetch trying to hack into his report card before rushing out to do a porno with Jessie.
So I’m going to highlight other possible suspects, because it’s always the people you least suspect. Not me, though. I always suspect the correct people first:
Pop quiz: who is more bitter about the Giants winning the Super Bowl, a team that averages two SB rings a piece, or a guy who played his whole career, rode his mouth out of town, tore up the team all off-season and during the beginning of the season, only to find himself replaced like a flat tire and labeled as “unnecessary” by his teammates and his town? This guy’s so bitter that he probably has a gun stored in his bible.
From a Seattle point of view, stolen rings from SB XLII are just as legitimate as the rings that Pittsburgh stole in SB XL. Besides, with New York police distracted by $5,000-a-night hooker investigations, what’s the likelihood they’ll come all the way across the country for a few rings? Pretty remote.
When you’re a megalomaniac, things make sense to you that other people charitably define as crazy. So why wouldn’t Steinbrenner, who has spent over a billion dollars fruitlessly chasing a World Series title over the last 8 seasons, see stealing Super Bowl rings as totally legitimate? Plus, with New England around to take the heat, he figures he’ll get away scot-free.
If I learned one thing from “The Usual Suspects” it’s that when you gather a bunch of arch-criminals in one place, you’re begging for something big to go off. And with Tony Romo around to honk away their chances of legitimately earning a ring in Dallas, it’s no wonder that they turned to what they know best. Just wait: I’ll bet police find a G-String or a bandoleer in the jewelry store.
Go easy on her in sentencing; it’s likely the only major award she’ll win this year. And Mitt Romney may have provided material assistance in planning and executing the heist.
Already stole a Super Bowl ring? Check. Brazen thug? Check. Irrational? Check. Routinely murders those who criticize him? Check.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
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Void where prohibited by law
A delegate for “Trees, Please” was forced from the rules committee meeting shouting “They’re giving away the election!” and several supporters were seen crying outside. The meeting soon devolved into a melee as various special-interest groups demanded unequal representation at the convention, scheduled for Spring 2011.
Following the meeting, DNC chairman Howard Dean announced that both Obama and Clinton would run for president, saying “I am so very tired.”
It was unclear what this heralded for the November election, but Republican candidate John McCain was quoted as saying “I like a nice salad, too. I’m not all about the meat.”
And unless you’re going to Antiques Roadshow or really, really kinky, a multijewel sextant is just not that useful.
However, using an advanced analytical tool that I like to call “making stuff up”, I have managed to synthesize how the two candidate’s internal GPS systems have directed them through the grueling primaries to achieve the ultimate nominations of their parties.
Obama’s Internal GPS Directions for the Nomination:
Optimal Vehicle: Renault Hope 4X4 High-Clearance All-Inclusive Minivan with rainbow-accented exterior paint and optional Black Power interior included.
1) At Speechification Street, turn left.
2) Drive over Tony Rezko.
3) Turn left at Radical Pointe.
4) Drive quickly around William Ayers. Do not make eye contact and be careful not to accept any packages from him.
5) At Platitude Junction, turn left.
6) Drive over Samantha Powers.
7) Continue on towards Vague Valley, then turn left.
8) In six hundred meters, drive over grandma.
9) After grandma, turn left towards Dissembly Bay.
10) Jog slightly right to drive over Reverend Wright.
11) After Reverend Wright, turn left again at Regret Ranch
12) Head on towards Father Pflegler.
13) Drive over Father Pflegler
14) Veer sharply left to also drive over Trinity Church.
15) Take the first left onto Not Who I Knew Drive
16) At Identity Way, turn left and drive over Hillary Clinton.
17) After Hillary Clinton, turn left.
18) Continue straight on, driving towards Jim Johnson.
19) When you get to Johnson, you will drive over him.
20) When in doubt, turn left.
McCain’s Internal GPS Directions for the Nomination:
Optimal Vehicle: 1943 US Army Jeep, with rear-mounted right-facing machine gun and two different license plates: “BIGRINO” and “ILUVDEMS,” just in case you need to make a quick switch. Includes “Don’t Blame Me, I Voted for Gore” bumper sticker.
1) *@&%$ Republicans!
2) Turn left at Pander Place.
3) Throw candy to the Hispanic lobby as you pass.
4) Promise candy to the Fence lobby.
5) *@&%$ Republicans!
6) Feint right at Debate Way.
7) Once you’ve passed Huckabee and Romney, signal right, but stay in the lefthand lane.
8) At Immigration Alley, take a HARD LEFT.
9) Stay left. *@&%$ Republicans!
10) Stay in the center lane in the Economic Quarter (the streets here are too confusing to navigate, so you may want to hire a guide).
11) *@&%$ Republicans!
12) Stop at Surge Street whenever possible.
13) Stay at Surge Street Hotel until elections.
14) If you must leave Surge Street Hotel, take a left towards Gaia Square.
15) At Gaia Square be sure to switch your engine off and trim the economy, if the *@&%$ Republicans will let you.
16) *@&%$ Republicans!
17) Signal right near the elections.
18) Stay in the lefthand lane.
19) *@&%$ Republicans!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
It’s to the tune of “Little Drummer Boy.”
Come, they said to me,
Come vote for Barack!
He is the man who’ll win,
Come vote for Barack!
I cast my vote for him,
My vote for Barack!
He’ll lift us up from Sin,
So vote for Barack!
Vote for Barack!
Vote for Barack!
He can solve Iraq,
So vote for Barack!
Peace in our times we’ll find,
If we vote for Barack!
The Clintons are all gone,
So vote for Barack!
McCain’s a toothless thug,
So vote for Barack!
Vote for Barack!
Vote for Barack!
I cast my vote for him,
In several states!
My granny votes for him,
She died in ‘78!
If he doesn’t win then we will
Take to the streets!
Democracy only works,
If we get a piece!
We get a piece!
We get a piece!
If you’re not racist,
Then vote for Barack!
He’s got the holy vibe,
So vote for Barack!
It’s not every day,
You vote for your god!
Barack is just that great,
So go shut your yob!
Vote for Barack!
Vote for Barack!
Do you understand?
You’ll vote for Barack!
Or I’ll break your back!
“The way we handled this in the Republican Party is that all the unevolved reptiles with short brain stems voted for Ron Paul,” he said. “Or maybe Mike Huckabee.”
“Is that good enough yet?” Dean asked rhetorically at a press conference. “Any more aggrieved groups out there that want to bitch about needing a vote? NYYEAAARGH!”
Both Clinton and Obama agreed that they had no idea how the vote would turn out, but each suggested the other begin by polling the crocodiles.
Dean said that he hoped this satisfied the various special-interest groups, since “the party of inclusiveness now represents the wishes and desires of the Western Hemisphere regardless of nation of origin, our key European allies who have been close to us through war and peace, the indigenous peoples of Africa to whom we are indebted, our fellow warm-blooded mammals throughout the world, and now cold-blooded and insect animals which are little more than splotches on the highways but deserve a vote, just like Ohioans.”
I have a friend at work who is dying of brain cancer. About a year ago today they operated on him and removed a tumor. Now he has several more tumors and is beyond further treatment. He’s not really there anymore: he doesn’t know anyone but his wife, can’t even speak his native tongue, is paralyzed, blind, and in constant pain. They just moved him to hospice so he can live out these last few weeks, which we are all hoping will be very short.
He was the kind of work friend that you are close enough to to discuss stuff about your families, talk philosophy with when you’re supposed to be working, and rely on for help outside the office. Not a lifelong friend, but a good friend while your paths cross. He was smart, too, one of the best engineers I ever worked with.
He just turned 47 a month ago. His kids aren’t even 18.
I tell you that to tell you this: you don’t know if tomorrow it’ll be you having the incident that means your life is over.
We get caught up in debates about politicians, or the environment, or whatever else. It’s important. But ultimately that’s not why you’re here. I don’t know what your reason is, nor what your life goals are, and they’re different for everybody. But it’s important to remind people of this singular truth every once in a while:
Whatever you feel your purpose in life is, get out there and do it. Stop making excuses for why you can’t.
Yesterday is past, and tomorrow isn’t promised. You’ve only got today to work towards your goal.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Of course, she received one who understands every third word in English and speaks almost nothing beyond “I no speak English very well.” Add to that the fact that the doctor looks about 16 and you’ve got the most comforting medical experience of your life.
I’m okay with it, though, because it’s not my brain that they’re twiddling with.
The neurology department’s other main function there is as a psych ward, with an emphasis on alcohol addiction. So there are “DO NOT ENTER” signs and secured doors everywhere, along with “Drinkin’ problems?” posters on every exposed surface.
We were told that the technician was caught in traffic, so we’d have to wait. We were the only ones there. It was 9 AM and the hallway was heavily reminiscent of the one in the mental hospital in Halloween II that got blown up. I could hear the creepy music as I sat there.
To try to calm my nerves I enjoyed the artwork, but I became more and more agitated by the big painting in front of us. It was an art nouveau tree, with all kinds of swirls and dots that made you think of a tree without actually looking like a tree. It easily deserved first prize in an elementary school art fair.
What bothered me was that it hung cockeyed. Badly cockeyed.
“Do you think that’s a test?” I asked Wifey.
“What kind of test?”
“A psyche test. If you get up and straighten the picture, you’re obsessive-compulsive because you couldn’t leave it alone. If you ignore it, you’re normal. If you stick your hand down your pants, you’re a pervert.”
She scoffed and gestured at the empty hallways. “How are they going to know?”
“They have cameras,” I assured her. “That thing sticking down from the ceiling? Camera. That burnt-out light? That’s a camera. That exit sign that’s turned off? You better believe that’s a camera.”
“What about the garbage can?” she asks me. “Is that a camera?”
“Of course not. Don’t be silly.”
“Do they have cameras in the bathrooms, too?” she asked.
I leaned in close to her. “Would you find that erotic? You wanna join the third-floor club?”
“You’re paranoid and a pervert,” she said. “Leave me alone.”
After some time, she pointed out to me another painting, properly hung this time. “What do you make of that, Dr. Freud?”
It was a profoundly disturbing thing, a montage of birds and feathers that looked like it’d been splattered with blood and piss all along the front of it. “It frightens me to look at it,” I admitted. “It seems as if all the contempt for human life has been poured onto canvas and then my nose is being rubbed in my own inadequacies in a provocative fashion reminiscent of a public flogging.”
If that sentence sounds strange to you, then you have never properly appreciated art and artworks and are likely a philistine.
“I worry that it’ll give the crazy people inspiration of new ways to cut up their victims while they torture them to death,” she said. “Did you know that here in this hospital they have that cannibal guy that-”
Just then, the technician came to take her into the scanning room behind a three-inch locked steel door and leave me all alone in the hallway with the demonic portrait and the don’t-touch-this-unless-you’re-a-pervert painting.
“Have fun sitting in the unmonitored corridor while the criminally insane wander by armed to the teeth trolling for victims!” she said cheerily as she left.
Screw this, I told myself. I’m gonna go wait in the car and let Hannibal Lecter eat her.
“Animals aren’t smart enough to vote,” McCain told reporters. “If they were, they’d have people smarter than PETA campaigning to save them.”
Dean announced via e-mail that “The Democratic party is not just the party of the so-called higher order animals, but is also the party of the dog, the rat, and all of the animals in the world. It is only correct that humans and animals work together on the issues confronting us today, such as rising fuel costs and Global Warming. In this way, all our species can continue to live on this lovely blue globe we call Earth.”
Hillary Clinton hailed the news as “finally enfranchising those long-forgotten fellow-travelers” and immediately sent Spot out onto the campaign trail. She told an audience of ducks in Michigan that “when I am president, we won’t be talking about hunting quotas, we’ll be talking about criminal charges for those camouflage-wearing barbarians who slaughter your families.”
Barack Obama decried the move as “a stunt to try to keep the campaign of Hillary Clinton alive.” Speaking from a fishing tournament, where he lost six lures and capsized two boats, Obama said that “I can’t see any reason to allow animals to vote, since they don’t have any money. So this just doesn’t seem sensible to me.”
Dean said that he hoped this signaled the end of the primaries, since “the party of inclusiveness now adequately represents the wishes and desires of the Western Hemisphere regardless of nation of origin, our key European allies, who have been close to us during both war and peace, the indigenous peoples of Africa to whom we are indebted, and now our fellow warm-blooded mammals throughout the world.”
Friday, June 6, 2008
“As the primary affronter of human dignity throughout the world, and the country most morally responsible for slavery, it is only correct that we allow native peoples in these countries to select our next president,” Dean said in a statement. “The Democratic party is glad to include them in this historic primary process.”
Barack Obama also heralded the news as “historic” and said that “it was high time we recognized that Libya, which our country founded in the seventeen hundreds as a homeland for freed slaves, is just as American as Detroit or Puerto Rico. It’s just too bad we can’t include Afghanistan, but the lack of Arabic speakers to interpret the ballots makes it impossible to get a good read on this land at the crossroads of civilization.”
Hillary Clinton called the move “a dirty trick worthy of Nixon” and said that the entire process had become “a stunt to give Obama the votes he so desperately needs to overcome the threshold of delegates to gain the nomination.”
Dean said that the additional primaries were necessary to make sure that “we can adequately represent the wishes and desires of the Western Hemisphere, regardless of their nation of origin, our key European allies, who have been close to use during both war and peace, and the indigenous peoples of Africa, to whom we owe so much.”