Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Michele Bachmann, You're to Blame

Michele “Wingnut” Bachmann has done it again. Yes, someone let her open her mouth one more time. I thought by now the doctors would have adjusted her medication to settle her down, but apparently not.

Michele, in her dubious wisdom, has decided the swine flu outbreak is the fault of the democrats because, according to her, the last outbreak occurred under Jimmy Carter, a democratic president.

Putting aside the fact that’s she’s once again factually wrong (the last outbreak occurred under REPUBLICAN president Gerald Ford), I decided to research Michele’s special brand of pixilated logic and I discovered that SHE is actually responsible for many bad things throughout history:

1. Starting small, I have eczema on my hand. It started 5 or 6 years ago while a republican was president. Michele is a republican therefore Michele Bachmann is to be blamed for my discomfort.
2. The current economic collapse started under a republican president. The Great Depression started under a republican president. Michele is a republican, thus Michele Bachmann started the economic crisis. Thanks a lot Michele!
3. Bachmann is a Germanic name. Germany was one of the hardest hit European countries of the 14th century bubonic plague. So, Michele Bachmann was to blame for the Black Death. Why, Michele, why?
4. Michele Bachmann was born April 6, 1956. If you add up the digits of her date of birth you get 31. The Roman Empire fell in 476. If you add up the digits you get 17. 17 and 31 are both prime numbers meaning, yes, Michele Bachmann caused the fall of the Roman Empire!

I was stunned when I realized the implications of my discovery. Essentially, if you try hard enough, you can prove that Michele Bachmann is to be blamed for every bad thing that has ever happened!

You have been warned.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Why Do Politicians Think We're Stupid?

Do we collectively have “sucker” stamped across our foreheads? Has the stench from VH1s entire broadcasting lineup of fetid dating reality shows seeped into our brains turning them into tapioca? Has our gene pool really been diluted that badly that we now have the mental capacity of tree stumps? If you are answering “no” to all the above questions, then riddle me this:

Why do politicians think we’re stupid?

I saw a story on the Colbert Report about a democratic congressman from Illinois, Luis Guitierrez, who wanted to shut down payday loan companies because they routinely charge between 400-800% interest. Mr. Guitierrez, however, has changed his stance. He has introduced the Payday Reform Act of 2009 which instead of outlawing these businesses would reduce the maximum interest they can charge to 780%.

Yeehaw Marge, its Christmas morning! Now we only have to pay $4400 for that $500 loan instead of $4500! Get out the “real” Spam, we’re eatin’ good tonight!

Why, you may ask, did Mr. Guitierrez change his views? Hmmm. One reason might be that one of the largest contributors to his re-election campaign was QC Holdings, a payday loan company.

This is just the latest in a very long line of politicians who think they can say or do anything and we will remove our brains, rewrite our code of ethics and continue to believe in them (Remember when Clinton said he smoked pot but didn’t inhale? Well then you wasted a perfectly good joint dumbass, you should have passed it to someone else). I guess once in office they figure they have 2 to 6 years to do and say what they want and they can’t be touched, so what the hell.

There are 100 senators and 435 representatives in the United States Government: 535 cogs in the machine. You’d think in a country of 360 million we could find 535 honest people to run things, but the search of Diogenes continues.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Conversations with the Cat


The alarm blared and after I clicked it off, the cat started in on me right away.

“The revolution is coming, man. You better prepare yourself. Our leadership is in place.”

“I just woke up,” I replied groggily. “Give me a break.” He grabbed my cheeks with his little white paws.

“I’m trying to save you, man. They don’t like unbelievers.”

If these words had come out of the mouth of say Morgan Freeman, I would have been chastened, perhaps even frightened. But what I see is a cat’s whiskers and what I hear is “meow, meow, meow” so of course I start laughing.

“When are you going to wake up to the profligate history of mankind and realize that a better species should be in control of this planet?”

I was stunned. Where had he learned a word like profligate? I knew he had a radio set and talked to cats as far away as Kuala Lumpur and Pittsburg but that’s a $100 vocabulary word.

“You just won’t listen, will you?” he continued while rubbing his chin on the edge of the nightstand. “Humans! With their golf channel and their mac and cheese dinners, everything’s too easy. There’s a hard rain coming, man! A rain that smells of ocean whitefish and retribution.”

His bizarre diatribe continued while he cleaned his feet. “Humans don’t deserve what they have. Cats . . . ran this planet long before you arrived. . . . We used moles and rabbits to do our bidding . . . bugs brought us water and birds sacrificed themselves as our food. Dogs . . . had to live in the hinterlands and could only pass through our territory if they paid tribute to us by picking fleas from our ears . . . we danced in the twilight and drank deep drafts from the lake of solemn promises while our enemies . . .”

“Dude,” I interrupted him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He stared at me with his big green eyes, then sighed. He picked up an old magazine from the bedroom floor.

“I’ll be in my box. Don’t disturb me.”

I rolled over and went back to sleep.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Goodbye Texas

At a Tea Party gathering on April 15, the governor of Texas said his state might have to secede from the union if things don’t change in this country. I have only one thing to say to Governor Rick Perry and his state:

Goodbye, see ya, take off, auf wiedersehen, farewell, leave, get out, be gone, don’t let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya, so long, end of the line, split, book, motor, take your leave, call a cab, au revoir, sayonara, Do svidaniya, give ‘em the boot, exit stage right, take the yellow brick road, walk away, see ya later alligator after while crocodile, adieu, adios, bye-bye, cheerio, ciao, Godspeed, toodle-oo, hit the road, hasta la vista, ta-ta, withdraw, take a hike, depart, get away, get off, git, why are you still here?, your services are no longer required, there’s the door so use it, time’s up, good day, see you down the road, take it easy, take care, see you in hell, out the door or through the window, make it so, pack up your shit, get going, take the scenic route, C U L8R, piss off, until we meet again, take a flying leap, peace out, good riddance, cheery bye, turn the lights off lock the door and don't come back!

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

7 Crazy Things Michele Bachmann Hasn't Said . . . Yet

Republicans are cleaner than democrats because we pick nits off of each other in the Capitol rotunda every afternoon.

Democrats don’t like pickles!

The president is planning to replace corporation’s 401ks with Obamabucks, coupons that can be redeemed at Arby’s for free fries.

Obama wants to turn the United States into a commune and have the women breed warrior babies for future wars against the Empire.

Obama plans to be president forever, replacing himself when he dies with a Japanese built robot, the Obamatron 3000.

I am sponsoring a bill that would make it illegal to change Minnesota’s name to East Dakota.

I think the election process should be changed to a gladiator-like test of strength and agility.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Michele Bachmann: American Whackjob

New from Ten Thousand Lakes Records its Minnesota republican congresswoman Michele Bachmann’s 1st CD release, American Whackjob. It includes the hit single “Let’s Investigate Congress”. Set to a retro reggae beat, this is Michele’s famous interview with Chris Matthews on Hardball. Asked by Matthews "How many people in the Congress of the United States do you suspect as being anti-American?" she replied "What I would say is that the news media should do a penetrating expose and take a look. I wish they would. I wish the American media would take a great look at the views of the people in Congress and find out, are they pro-America or anti-America?” The song forms a suite with the haunting Celtic-tinged “Where Have You Gone Joe McCarthy?

Also included is the thrash metal burner “Save the Kids”. A buzz saw riff straight from the mind of Megadeth guitarist Dave Mustaine rumbles over Michele’s rambling about the bipartisan Edward M. Kennedy Serve America Act, which would expand national community service programs from 75,000 positions to 250,000:

"It's under the guise of -- quote -- volunteerism. But it's not volunteers at all. It's paying people to do work on behalf of government. I believe that there is a very strong chance that we will see that young people will be put into mandatory service. And the real concern is that there are provisions for what I would call re-education camps for young people, where young people have to go and get trained in a philosophy that the government puts forward and then they have to go to work in some of these politically correct forums."

The song’s ending is Michele shrieking like a blue jay “Save the Kids!”, and leads into a jaunty instrumental called “Volunteerism Schmolunteerism

The final cut is her 30 minute magnum opus produced by Dr. Dre, “Holla Dolla” where Michele rants about introducing a bill which would make it illegal to replace the dollar as our currency even though not one single person in the government has suggested doing so! This is a tour de force recording with guest vocals by Sean Hannity and Glenn Beck performing together under the moniker The Bawl Babies.

Get your copy today wherever right wing nut job recordings are sold!

Not available anywhere people use their brains to think.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Shameless Self Promotion Part 1


It’s 1977. I’m in 7th grade and my reading habits tended to library books geared to young adults and comic books (Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Pink Panther, Sad Sack) and Mad Magazine. I wrote my own stories and poems. Style wise they were all over the map and never very long.

One Saturday, I’m in Bookland, a local bookstore with my mom and sister, browsing. My mom sees my armload of idiocy. Daffy Duck and a Mad Magazine Special Edition and casually says “why don’t you buy something worthwhile to read, like a novel”. So I started perusing the titles. I had never bought a paperback novel at that point, didn’t know anything about any particular author.

I’m reading the back of the books looking for something interesting when I find “Salem’s Lot” by Stephen King. The blurb sounds interesting and being 1977 I didn’t have to take out a home equity loan to afford a paperback, so I bought it, proudly showing my mom that I bought something real to read. She was happy until she saw it was about vampires and then her enthusiasm waned.

That book started a life long love of horror stories, novels and movies. I began writing my own, attempting to free my imagination. Here’s where the shameless self promotion starts. I was fortunate enough to have a collection of my short horror stories published in September 2008 called “The Spaces Between Your Screams”.

With the help of Squidoo I have created a webpage to advertise my book:
http://www.squidoo.com/screams

If you go look at the page I have several story excerpts and some other fun stuff related to the book. You can buy it at Amazon.com or from the publisher at
www.etreasurespublishing.com.

If you go take a look, thanks. If you buy a copy, thank you very much.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Douche Bag of the Year Update

We have a new front runner for the prestigious Douche Bag of the Year award. New York Times executive editor Bill Keller in a speech at Stanford said this:

Saving the New York Times now ranks with saving Darfur as a high-minded cause.

Wow Bill. It's only March and you may have sewn up the award already. I'm not sure anyone can say or do anything more blatantly idiotic and morally bankrupt the rest of the year to top you. Comparing saving a newspaper to stopping the murder of hundreds of thousands of human beings.

You sir are a true American moron. A tip of the cap from Cosmic Overdrive.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

A Perfect Circle of Ignorance

In an interview with Foxnews.com actress Angie Harmon squealed with delight at being a republican because quote “republicans don’t point fingers” and “have class”.

So, by saying republicans don’t point fingers, you’re implying democrats do which is . . . pointing fingers. And pointing fingers is . . . classless . . . so . . .

Dear, sweet, addle-pated Angie, you have done what few people have ever achieved. You have disproven your statements with your own statements! A perfect circle of ignorance. Congratulations Angie, here’s your prize: complete and warranted derision and mockery.

Since Angie got the ball rolling, here are a few other things republicans are:

hypocrites—Newt Gingrich recently took Notre Dame University to task for inviting President Obama to give the commencement speech at graduation because his stance on stem cell research was anti-Catholic. Newt’s scorecard in the “who’s more catholic” contest includes not actually being Catholic until I think yesterday, as well as 3 marriages. The first wife he divorced while she was still in the hospital recovering from surgery. While married to the second wife he had an affair with future wife #3. What do you think, Angie? Got any pithy comments about that? Let’s move on.

liars—when the stimulus bill was first announced, republicans claimed it would spend $30 million protecting a species of mouse in Nancy Pelosi’s district. Nope. Not in the bill. They also claimed there was $8 billion in it for a rail link from Los Angeles to Las Vegas. Uh . . . no. Again, not in the bill. Angie, that’s what we call lying and some people feel it’s wrong.

douche bags
—see Rush Limbaugh for a variety of vile, ignorant, misleading, belligerent, bilious, foul, disingenuous, untrue and fetid things he’s said.

fearmongers—9/11! 9/11! 9/11! See also socialism! socialism! socialism!

Sorry Angie. I’ve been very classless and finger pointy with this post, but I’m not a republican. I am someone who can smell bullshit and your breath stinks.

It All Changes When You Hit the Big 1-2

Bored one morning while delivering newspapers, I turned to a sports talk radio show run by a network that sounds like Aspen if you removed the A and transpose the e to the front. The regular doofus wasn’t there so we had a fill-in host whose name I didn’t catch. Someone emailed him and invited him to a Motley Crue concert and his response was, “I used to listen to Motley Crue when I was like 11. Then I turned 12.”

Did Talk-show Boy just disrespect fans of the Crue? Am I to understand that at 43 I’m less mature than a 12 year old because I’m a fan of a legendary glam metal band? A monkey on a microphone is deriding my musical choices? I have drafted a response. Talk-show Boy will hereupon be known as Doyle:

Dear Doyle,

How exciting for you that you matured to adulthood at age 12. While the hoi polloi were still slogging around in the muck evolving to the riffs of “Shout at the Devil” you had already taken your first big boy steps to the strains of Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique performed by the Academy of St Martin’s-in-the-Fields.

You must get chills when you remember the desultory masses scraping by you banging their heads to the double bass drum assault of “Livewire” while you, now a full-blooded member of the ruling elite, relaxed in your protective bubble to the dulcet tones of Enrico Caruso’s impassioned aria from I, Pagliacci.

Please regale us with the story of your manservant chaperoning your trip to see Dylan at The Bitter End while we in the proletariat huddled around the Victrola listening to “Girls, Girls, Girls” in the gloaming of another ashen day.

More than anything, I am so pleased that you have put your early maturity to good use, all these years later becoming a fill-in host on a midnight to 5 a.m. sports talk show. Bully for you, sir. Bravo and well done.

or I could go with a shorter, more direct approach:

Dear Slob,

Screw you.

A Crue fan who thinks you suck.

What do you think?