Thursday, December 20, 2007

mike huckabee can munch on my grundle

He can lick it, flick it, and motorboat it. Apparently he said "Unless Moses comes down with two stone tablets from Brokeback Mountain to tell us something different, we need to keep that understanding of marriage."

I guess "that understanding" means his understanding, because my understanding of marriage is definitely not what it is in his lovely little world. I can tell you some motherfucking stories about marriage -- good, bad, and absolutely horrifying. It's different for everyone, and maybe sometimes that includes two people who happen to be the same gender. Big fucking deal. How about we do something about domestic violence. Then you can tell me how if two women share health insurance and hospital-visitation rights, all the straight people are going to light on fire or something.

And by the way, I don't seem to recall anything in the 10 commandments about "Thou shalt not marry a dude if thou art also a dude." I also seem to recall something about the church and the state being separate entities in this country.

Not that the other pubbie candidates are any better.

Rudy "I Feel Pretty" Giuliani said, "It’s the acts, it’s the various acts that people perform that are sinful." He paused, then added, "Nine eleven." I've beaten the shrimp-as-sin dead horse to the texture of hamburger already, but I just wanted to bring it up one more time in the true spirit of Giuliani. (It was either that or go make a bunch of bad decisions.) But his statement makes me wonder if he really understands what sodomy is. If you think that being gay is gonna send you into a lake of fire for all of eternity, if you've ever had a blowjob, you're gonna spend the afterlife between Andy Dick and Richard Simmons. And I do mean between.

Mitt Romney, laying it out there plain and simple, much like tying a dog to the roof of a car, said, "I don't want civil unions or gay marriage." Only he could make an incendiary statement fucking boring. You know what, Mitt? I don't want you. And yet your existence is still legal. So I just stay away from you and other likeminded, breathtakingly boring individuals. Maybe if you're so afraid of me kissing on some ladies, you should stay the hell away from me. In fact, let's just agree right now to never, ever see each other.

However, Mike Huckabee, the invitation for you to dive facefirst into my nether regions shall stand until one of us is dead.

It's not just that particular statement that makes me hate him so much. Nor is it his policies, which include supporting the FairTax. (By the way, I've heard things from retarded people that were way less retarded than the FairTax. More on that here if you're interested.) He also wants to write shit into the Constitution banning abortion, of course he wants to "protect" marriage from all us scary non-straight people, he thinks immigrants are gross, he wants to stay in Iraq until the Sun supernovas, and I'm pretty sure there's probably something in there somewhere about repealing suffrage for all non-white, non-land-owning men, and all women.

All of those things contribute to his douchebaggery. But they're not the reason I can't stand him. Not the way I hate Dick Cheney, of course. It's a little more annoyance than hatred, but it could still shift.

It's because he can't fucking write, yet he continues to do so.

I had to caption a speech he gave to a bunch of nodding white people with really bad haircuts and even worse clothes. I can only assume this took place in a church of some kind.

He kept drawing these ridiculous analogies between "the good old days" and "now, a time when gargoyles apparently fly through the air." Except none of his "now" analogies were things that were within the past 10 years.

These quotations are from memory, so they're not exact, but the then-versus-now examples are accurate, because I could not make this shit up.

"I remember when art was Norman Rockwell. Now it's Robert Mapplethorpe." I am 25 and I only had a vague recollection of who Mapplethorpe was. That's because he died in 1989. He was a photographer who, among many other things, photographed nude people. Which, in case you didn't notice, destroyed society.

"I remember a time when children grew up watching 'Leave It To Beaver.' Now we have 'Beavis and Butt-head.'" Dude, you should seriously watch "The Sopranos."

"I remember a time when Father Knew Best. Now we have fathers like Homer Simpson, who need help from their kids just to get through the day." You do understand that Homer Simpson is a fictional character, correct? That it's funny? When you hear about "Family Guy" in like 12 years, you'll probably have a stroke.

There was a lot more of this crap -- it just kept going and going. He's a good speaker, though, and if I were really fucking stupid, I'd be taken in by him. (Iowa, go kill yourself.) Which is why it's possible that I could possibly hate him as much as I hate Dick Cheney someday.

He's such a wad of snot that because Chuck Norris has endorsed his candidacy, (apparently the third fist isn't under Chuck's beard; it's inside his skull) I have officially renounced Chuck Norris. So I need to find some other celebrity to take his place. Maybe William H. Macy, because I love his name. We'll start a line, guys. Just don't get in the one behind Mike Huckabee.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

christmas dusty

Where's Waldo?















Some guy just came down the chimney. Don't worry; I ate him.












Looks better on me anyway.



WHAT?!


dusty auditioning for "i am legend"


halliburton: as evil as possible

What the hell is wrong with people?

Enraged? I am, too.

Take 25 seconds and do something about it.

Friday, December 14, 2007

it's the day when my people wear candles on their heads, and i am serious about that stabbing thing

So it's been brought to my attention by, um, all of you that I haven't written anything in several moons. Sorry. So as a kind of apology, here's a picture that has been making me snort all day:






Yeah, that's fucking awesome right there.


So here's what's been up. School. Work. New dog. Speeding ticket. Going to England next month (for school -- 10-day residency just like what I did in August in Jersey, except it's January in England).


School -- going well. Getting some good "real" writing done.


Work -- fortunately, the writers' strike hasn't yet affected my ability to bring home the partially dehydrogenated bacon substitute. (I think I got an email from one of you asking what in the hell it is I do -- I create closed captions for television.) And on a related note, how about the bunch of new HD channels that sprang, Greek-god-like, out of fucking nowhere, yesterday. All of a sudden I'm seeing my Law & Order SVU repeats in high definiton, which is exactly how Mariska Hargitay should be viewed. AND Discovery is now airing its regular lineup in HD in addition to the other HD channel it has. Which to me means one thing: Mike Rowe. In high definition. Mmm. Yes and yes. Today was our holiday party, one of two yearly catered events during which they try to kill me via buffet. Why does everything have to have green peppers in it? Are they a food group or something? I really have the most obnoxious food allergies. Today was also St. Lucia Day. If you don't have any idea what that is, it's okay. That just means you are not Swedish. As my friend Meadow explained to the table of Very Confused Coworkers, "it's the day where her people wear candles on their heads." Yeah, pretty much it. It also involves getting up with the sun, which is when I go to bed, so to you, St. Lucia, I say: perform a miracle where dawn happens at 3:00 PM and we'll talk.


New dog! Dusty is fucking awesome. She's like a furry toddler. Who eats people. I walk her when I get home from work (which is a little before midnight) and we go past a bar at the top of the hill and I have discovered something. Drunk old guys in parking lots leave you the fuck alone if you're holding the leash of a snarling creature. I need her with me all the time.


This is her.



I got her from a coworker. Her owner passed away, and so I saw this flyer with pictures of this sad-looking doggie...posted right behind my desk. And in the kitchen. It was like she was looking at me all day, saying "Mommy! Come get me! Take me home!" So I did. And she's absolutely a wonderful dog. She's attached to my hip and extremely protective and very sensitive to my moods. Granted, I pretty much just have the three: angry, laughing, and asleep. The other night we were playing and she got really wound up -- she started spinning like a top. So I collapsed in a kind of stage fall and she freaked the hell out. She ran over and pounced on me and started crying and licking me and whapping me in some kind of berserk doggie CPR. It would have been funny if only she weren't completely terrified. So no more Jim Carrey moves for me.

Speeding ticket -- I was NOT!

England -- very excited. But if one more person tells me that it's cold in England in the winter, I will fucking stab you in the taint. I live in Pittsburgh, where we have things called seasons. Therefore, I own sweaters. Also, I'm pretty sure there are buildings in England with which I will shield myself from rain and/or snow. And I am serious about that stabbing thing. Also stab-worthy: telling me that things in England are expensive, that I should take food with me, and telling me to go "swing by" every single corner of the country. You know, since it IS a vacation, not an assload of graduate credits. So serious about the stabbing. So serious.