I think one of the reasons I started this blog (but just one of the reasons) was to rant about all of the crap that the republicans are doing or are going to do to steal the upcoming election. But, frankly, I've grown tired of paying attention to the political childishness on a daily (or even weekly) basis. The juvenile depths to which the McCain campaign has demonstrated they are willing to go, just to convince themselves that they actually have a shot at winning, are embarassing. But what they have shown is that they are going to get the bloody piss beat out of them in November. I'm truly bored with the whole thing already. Crazy John is toast.
And the GOP gives a collective...YIKES!
Fuck them.
Now, that said, I promise to get re-interested in the silliness if one scenario that a friend of mine laid out for me a month or so ago comes to pass. My pal maintains that Crazy John will not, in fact, be the Republican candidate come convention time. No, my friend believes that Grandpa Munster will step out of the race, citing health reasons, and open the door for a douche bag like Williard Romney (that's Mitt the shit, for those of you keeping score). Like I said, if that happens...I'm in! I've always had a soft spot for the circus.
But barring that, the only question remains...margerine or jelly? Oh wait...McCain will just be dry toast. Dry, white toast.
By the way...and, yes, I know many others have made this comparison...the other night I was watching some archival footage of Bobby Kennedy (because new footage of him is hard to come by) and the similarities between the way Bobby related to people while on the campaign trail and the way Barack does are astounding. The connections are real for Barack, just as they were for Bobby. People want to believe...wanted to believe. The real difference is that Bobby, I don't think, would cave for the sake of political expediency in the way that Barack has shown he is willing to do.
Plus he nailed Marilyn Monroe.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
Legoland...where people are huge...
Took the kids to Legoland in Carlsbad today. All I can say is we had a very good time and I got to see the one and true reason for the downfall of the United States of America: Americans are fucking huge. Obscenely fucking huge. Sloppy huge. So huge that there is just no way the ground below them can support the weight. And that ground below them is the USA. Fat people are literally crushing the life out of this country...and killing themselves and their fat little children while they're at it. Did I mention the fat kids. I'm not talking about kids that are a little chubby, that need to get their Garanimals (TM) in the husky department at Sears. No, I'm talking about seven year-olds that weigh-in at over 150 pounds. And Dwayne and Francine, the proud parents, don't see a problem because little Bobby's five brothers and sisters were all pretty big too. Must just run in the family. That's sick. It's child abuse. But society turns a blind eye to it because, well, at least the fat kids are not being raised by 'the gays'. That would be too much to take.
They now make diapers (well, pull-ups, really) that will handle kids up to 65 pounds. Now, if you have children you know that, by and large (no pun intended), they are potty trained by the time they hit the age of three. Three years old. 65 pounds. What the fuck are we doing to our children? I mean, can you imagine having to clean up the loaded diaper of a 65-pound 3 year old? Good god. Think about your great yellow Labrador taking a dump in a Huggie. Now think about that good and happy dog of yours running around the house sportin' a feces-loaded bag on its ass. Jumping up on the sofa. Rolling around on your bed. Basically trailing a sack of shit all over that special place that you call home. Because that's what happens, ya know? When a kid who is not potty-trained drops a #2 in their pull-up they don't necessarily come running up to you to tell you about it right away. No, they savor it. So now you have this 65-pound kid strolling around your house with a grand saggy, smelly ass. It's like having Gary Coleman over for tea and having him just sit there in your living room and shit his pants whilst eating his cucumber sandwiches. Heavens.
What a mess we have made of ourselves.
Yikes!
They now make diapers (well, pull-ups, really) that will handle kids up to 65 pounds. Now, if you have children you know that, by and large (no pun intended), they are potty trained by the time they hit the age of three. Three years old. 65 pounds. What the fuck are we doing to our children? I mean, can you imagine having to clean up the loaded diaper of a 65-pound 3 year old? Good god. Think about your great yellow Labrador taking a dump in a Huggie. Now think about that good and happy dog of yours running around the house sportin' a feces-loaded bag on its ass. Jumping up on the sofa. Rolling around on your bed. Basically trailing a sack of shit all over that special place that you call home. Because that's what happens, ya know? When a kid who is not potty-trained drops a #2 in their pull-up they don't necessarily come running up to you to tell you about it right away. No, they savor it. So now you have this 65-pound kid strolling around your house with a grand saggy, smelly ass. It's like having Gary Coleman over for tea and having him just sit there in your living room and shit his pants whilst eating his cucumber sandwiches. Heavens.
What a mess we have made of ourselves.
Yikes!
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Yikes Indeed...
Indymac, Freddie Mac, Fannie Mae, George Bush , Ben Bernanke, Dick Cheney, Homeland Security, Stephan Payne, Phil Gramm, Crazy John McCain, Joe Lieberman, Nancy Pelosi, Gitmo, torture in the name of freedom, Fox 'News', the AP, the supposed 'Liberal Media' in general, my IRAs, my 401k, the equity in my house, the level of toddler urine in the pool water at our local Y, the cost of a gallon of organic milk, $75 per week to fill up the volkswagen, too much pepperoni on the pizza...these are the things that keep me awake at night.
Well, that and the fact that, for the first time in franchise history the Cubs have the best record in baseball at the All-Star break...when the hell is the bottom going to fall out of that?
Damn I'm tired.
Well, that and the fact that, for the first time in franchise history the Cubs have the best record in baseball at the All-Star break...when the hell is the bottom going to fall out of that?
Damn I'm tired.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Just what we needed...another blog...
Huzzah! Look at me...I'm bloggin!
As it turned out I was the last caucasian, 47 year-old, father of two in the United States without a blog. I know, wierd. Or is it weird? Yeah, that looks more right. I mean, righter. Less wrong.
Anyway, I got this notice from the guvm'nt notifying me (because, you see, that's what notices do) that I had not yet created the, apparently, mandatory blog with which to inflict my life upon others and that I had better snap-to...and pronto. Seems that this will make it a might easier for the men in the unmarked helicopters to keep track of my comings and goings. And anything I can do to make the D.C. bureaucrats lives easier, well I want to do it because they've done so much for me and my fellow man this past seven or eight years. Well, make that this past thirty or forty years. Lyin' thievin' bastards.
I'll be posting every other day or so...more if the mood hits me. I do have some moods. I'll try to contain my contempt for the current administration as much as possible, but they do make it difficult. Idiots. And the Democratic congress isn't any better. Idiots.
So, that's one 'under my belt' as they say. And should this make its way through the corridors of power and end up on the desk of 'Deadeye' Dick Cheney...and I call him 'Deadeye' not because of the hunting incident but because he looks, ya know, dead...in the eyes...so if it should end up on his desk, well, I hope he gets a goddamned papercut picking it up. 'Cause those things smart! And 'cause he's an asshole.
Yikes!
As it turned out I was the last caucasian, 47 year-old, father of two in the United States without a blog. I know, wierd. Or is it weird? Yeah, that looks more right. I mean, righter. Less wrong.
Anyway, I got this notice from the guvm'nt notifying me (because, you see, that's what notices do) that I had not yet created the, apparently, mandatory blog with which to inflict my life upon others and that I had better snap-to...and pronto. Seems that this will make it a might easier for the men in the unmarked helicopters to keep track of my comings and goings. And anything I can do to make the D.C. bureaucrats lives easier, well I want to do it because they've done so much for me and my fellow man this past seven or eight years. Well, make that this past thirty or forty years. Lyin' thievin' bastards.
I'll be posting every other day or so...more if the mood hits me. I do have some moods. I'll try to contain my contempt for the current administration as much as possible, but they do make it difficult. Idiots. And the Democratic congress isn't any better. Idiots.
So, that's one 'under my belt' as they say. And should this make its way through the corridors of power and end up on the desk of 'Deadeye' Dick Cheney...and I call him 'Deadeye' not because of the hunting incident but because he looks, ya know, dead...in the eyes...so if it should end up on his desk, well, I hope he gets a goddamned papercut picking it up. 'Cause those things smart! And 'cause he's an asshole.
Yikes!
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