Not a very good idea.
Thanks to reader, Dick
Right now, I am too pissed off at the Lame Duck Congress to even think about writing something even slightly funny. These rat bastards are in the process of ramming a bunch of legislative bullshit down our throats – stuff that the voters in the most recent election clearly said they want no part of. The clincher is the $1.2 trillion omnibus spending bill that is more than 1,900 pages long and contains 6,000 (yes, 6,000!) earmarks totaling about $8 billion.
Any republican who is responsible for any of those earmarks or who votes for this piece of shit ought to be drawn and quartered and, most certainly, should be kicked out of office. If next year the newly elected members don’t move heaven and earth to fix this disgrace, they too should be booted out of office.
It’s no wonder so many people think voting is a waste of goddamned time.
Being somewhat of an amateur mixologist, I would like to offer the following suggestions for signature cocktails:
Nancy Pelosi’s “Berkeley Bomb”
3 oz. Cristal
1 oz. Botox
1 tsp. Maui Wowie (remove stems and seeds)
1 tab of awesome acid
Mix ingredients in an old shaker, using old ice. Strain into an old martini glass painted to look new.
Al Gore’s “Climate Change Chiller/Warmer”
Pink wine (non-carbonated)
Pour into a wine glass and serve. If your guests complain that wine is too warm, blame
global warming climate change. If your guests complain that wine is too cold, blame global warming climate change.
Milky ice cubes
Add ice to glass and serve. Tell your guests that is a complex and delicious drink. If your guests are democrats, they’ll buy it.
Spent the day doing Christmasy stuff, including attending a Christmas brunch with our excellent new neighbors here at the House by the Parkway (South). As such, I’m too lazy to try to think of something to write that is interesting or amusing, so I thought I would share this video of people doing positively
crazy amazing things.
Thanks, once again, to my buddy Brian, the Air Force Vet.
PRS Operatives have managed (Don’t ask) to get a copy of Mrs. Obama’s letter to Santa. Enjoy.
I’ve been a really, really good girl this year, if for no other reason than I have managed not to strangle that arrogant, whiny, girlie man prick that I’m married to. I thought that I wood let you know what I wood like for Christmas. I am confidint that you will leve me these things, because, although my *spit* husband may be an arrogant, whiny, girlie man prick, he could federalize your operation with the stroke of a pen. Keep that in mind, Fatso.
1. Belts, lots of belts — wide belts. You know, the ones that separate my boobs from my ass. Everyone says that my belts are very slimming (even though I don’t really need slimming).
2. A hula hoop. I am a kickass hula hooper and a woman of the Peeps. Just ask any one of my dozens of staff members.
3. When you come by, could you puh-leeze take that pissass dog away with you on the sleigh. He always barks at my mama and shits in my shoes. The Secret Service guys like him, but I hate him
4. Twinkies, Devil Dogs and some killer éclairs. Please wrap these in plain brown wrapper and leave them in the cabinet under the sink. Know what I’m sayin?
5. Could you please hit that Smartass Suzette on the head with a flaming meteorite? I’m tired of redding the terribel things she says about me. If you can’t do the meteorite thing, please leave some reindeer shit under her tree.
6. I really would like a tutu and ballet shoes. People tell me that I look like a ballerina and that I’d look really, totally hot in a tutu. I’d like the tutu in something purple and yellow (sequins would make it really special) and the shoes in size 13 EEEE.
7. I also could use a new – what the hell is it called? – A nine iron, or some shit (Pardon my French,Santa). You see, one day, Himself was bitching and moaning about Fox News and Mama said, “Yo, Bitch! You sound like a gottdamned pussy with all that whinin’ ‘n shit!” (Pardon my mama’s French, Santa). She smacked him upside his head with the club and broke it. He tells me he really needs a new one, because he has a golf date with a bunch of Kenyans. Friggin’ Kenyan relatives of his … they show up here at the White House and wipe their asses on the sheets. What the hell was I thinking when I married this mutt?
8. I’d love a Sarah Palin wig hat. I figure that would get a rise out of Himself.
9. A few Poppers. I hear Himself and that slobbering jackwad Barney Frank talk on the phone about them, but I’m not sure what there are. Please leave me a package so I can see what the hell they are talking about. I somehow don’t think they are party favors.
10. Oh, and could you please find all those people who put my picture on the internet next to the picture of that goddamned Wookie and strike their sorry asses dead. I’m goddamned totally hot and those rat bastards know it. Hell, Janet Napolitano once grabbed my ass, and she doesn’t grab just any old ass.
Your pal (i.e. BFF)
P.S. I left some sweet ‘tater pie on the counter (mama made it). Hep yourself.
My buddy Brian, the Air Force Vet, sent me a link to an amazing series of photos focusing on the Pacific Theater in WWII. Many, if not most, of the photos were new to me. Each photo is captioned, and I am ashamed to say that I had not known of several of the island battles until now.
If you are interested in WWII history, you should take a look.
With each passing year, more and more Americans are unaware of the historic significance of this date. That’s a shame.
You can read and hear President Roosevelt’s December 8, 1941 address to Congress here.
A while back, I wrote about the inefficiency of men and women grocery shopping together (invariably caused by the men). The other day in the supermarket, I overheard a conversation between a woman and a man (a/k/a Health Nazi). The woman had put a box of prepared, flavored rice in the shopping cart. The Health Nazi Man, picked up the box and read the label:
Health Nazi Man: (Sarcastically) Oh yeah, this is really good for the heart.
Woman: You bitchin’ about the rice?
Health Nazi Man: Look at the ingredients. It’s not heart healthy.
Woman: OK, put it back on the shelf and go buy plain rice. I’ll make plain rice.
Health Nazi Man: Plain rice?
Woman: Yeah. Plain rice, but the last time I made it you bitched about it. You said it was “too bland.”
Health Nazi Man: (Returns box of prepared, flavored rice to the cart) Never mind.
Woman: Why don’t you go pick out some ice cream and meet me at the checkout.
Health Nazi Man: Great idea. Any particular flavor?
Woman: No. You pick one out. Just make sure it’s “hearty healthy” ice cream.
Health Nazi Man: Jeez.
This is a guy who probably should stay home or wait in the car.
Yes, Peeps, it was a pretty cold dreary day here at the House by the Parkway (South), but fortunately a remedy is easily within reach. I’ll be taking my Beloved Gibson over to the Albert Music Hall to sit in the Pickin’ Shed and do a bit of playin’ with the Pickin’ Shed Peeps. Might even get to sing a song or two.
Maybe afterward I’ll head off to the Legion Post for a beer.
I’m retired and easy to please.
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