No, it’s not some Nigerian e-mail scheme. I’m thinking more along the lines of just how much the Clinton Machine would pay for a genuine picture of Senator Obama sitting in a pew during one of Reverend Wright’s now-infamous anti-American, racist rants.

I figure it would be enough to buy that dream house you’ve always wanted.

I will be in Princeton, attending this gathering of blabbermouths, where I shall see some old friends and make some new ones. Maybe I’ll even have a couple a few more than a few adult beverages.

So, sign up already.

Just returned from an evening at the thee-ah-tah, where I saw Steel Magnolias. We have a subscription, so we get the season’s tickets mailed way in advance. Came home from work, gobbled down a quick dinner, grabbed the tickets and headed out the door absolutely convinced we were on our way to see “Kiss Me Kate,” a Cole Porter musical. Only when entering the thee-ah-tah did we realize that “Kiss Me Kate” is the next play of the season.

“Steel Magnolias” was good, but I was ready for a musical. I suppose I have made worse mistakes. It ain’t easy being a patron of the arts.

PRS Operatives had listening devices placed in a Garden State Supermarket in connection with a classified mission. As sometimes happens, we were surprised by the following conversation that took place in the middle of the night when there are hardly any customers in the store:

Celery: Yo, what did you think about the Eliot Spitzer thing?

Mushroom Who’s Eliot Spitzer?

Celery: Jesus, you don’t know anything about the Eliot Spitzer and the prostitution ring mess?

Mushroom Nope. Don’t know anything about it.

Celery: Damn, you are really ignorant. Were you raised in a cave or some shit?

Mushroom What kind of racist remark is that?

Celery: It’s not a racist remark, asshole.

Mushroom Yes it is, punk-ass bitch.

Celery: No it’s not!

Mushroom Yes it is, and don’t give me any of that “It’s not easy being green” booshit either.

Celery: Speaking of shit, you were raised in it, Dickwad! Bwhahahahaha.

GARLIC: Yo, youse guys! SHUT THE F*CK UP! I’m tryin’ to sleep heah.

Celery: (whispering) Now there’s a real asshole.

Mushroom (whispering) Yeah, no shit.

Celery: (whispering) Probably mobbed up.

Mushroom (whispering) Word.

In an exceedingly rare moment of lucidity, the SPEAKER in the House, Nancy “Pearl” Pelosi, got it right when asked to respond to a question about the possibility of Senator Barack ________ Obama and Senator Hillary Clinton running on the same ticket.

SPEAKER in the House Pelosi responded, “I think that the Clinton Administration has fairly ruled that out by proclaiming that Senator McCain would be a better commander in chief than Obama.”

Watch the clip, which you will doubtless see again in the fall, if Barack ________ Obama is the democrat nominee.

Thanks to Gerald, a teacher of English and other stuff in Thailand, for sending me the link in a comment to the previous post.

The ever-vigilant PRS Operatives have obtained copies of an e-mail thread between the Emperors Club VIP (identified below as “EC”) and Client 9. For ease of reading, the e-mails are listed from oldest to most recent. Here it is:

From: EC
To: Client 9
Subject: DC Meeting

Receipt of your payment is confirmed. Our employee will meet with you at the usual place.

From: Client 9
To: EC
Subject: DC Meeting

Great. What is your employee’s name?

From: EC
To: Client 9
Subject: DC Meeting

Her name is Kristen, and she loves to par-TAY.

From: Client 9
To: EC
Subject: DC Meeting

Excellent! What does she look like?

From: EC
To: Client 9
Subject: DC Meeting

She is a petite brunette. Here is a recent photo.

From: Client 9
To: EC
Subject: DC Meeting

AWESOME!!!!!!!

PUT YOUR DRINK DOWN.

You have been warned.

Thanks to my pal Bill from Missouri, a WWII Navy Vet.

It warms the cockles of my heart every time I see a democrat finally come around to holding the same opinion of Hillary that we have held since … well … forever.

Driving behind a truck when it loses control and spills its cargo is never a great place to be, but I shudder to think of being behind this truck when its contents went flying all over the road.

Actually, a several years back, I found myself at night on the New Jersey Turnpike (far enough south where the peeps even talk funny) having to slowly slip and slide through a spilled load of stuff like this. From a distance, I thought it was a spilled load of wet paper. As I got closer, my nose told me otherwise. The car damned near got sideways driving slowly through the glop, and it took several steam cleanings of the undercarriage to get to where the car didn’t stink.

Here is an entire page dedicated to truck spills. Click away. You know you want to.

Via Mister Snitch

I have been feeling antsy as a result of about eight or nine days without a ground pound. So, this morning, I looked out the window and satisfied myself that there would be a sufficiently long rainless window (rained like a bitch last night) for me to hit the street. I suited up with sweat pants, a long-sleeved tee-shirt and a nylon, “water resistant” windbreaker. I topped off my outfit with a baseball cap. Out I went.

About a quarter mile from home, came the drizzle. I forged ahead. About another quarter mile from home, the skies opened and positively gushed drenching, COLD rain. I turned in the direction of home, and by the time I got there, I looked and felt like a drowned rat.

Mrs. Parkway: You’re back already?

Me: Are you shitting me? It’s pouring, I’m soaked, and I’m cold as hell.

Mrs. Parkway: Pansy.

After I emerged from the hot shower and got dressed, I walked a couple times into different rooms, each time forgetting why I went there in the first place.

Mrs. Parkway: Doof.

Promises to be a long day.