Operation Give has a new home and has a new address to send toys for Iraqi children.
There is a new Carnival of the Capitalists. Anyone know anything about getting a book published?
Emperor Misha I said mean things about the Palestinians, and someone called him on it. I think he learned his lesson.
BTW, when I previously said “Damn Mormons” and that I didn’t like being woken up by them, that wasn’t meant to be an opening for some religion bashing. Let’s all save our hatred for hippies, Commies, and terrorists.
Also, so many people are griping about how I won’t update their links that I’ve lost track. I’ll finally get that done this week, but, to help me, e-mail me with the subject “Link Update” and tell many how many links and where I need to take care of if you’ve moved to a new URL. Thanks.
Archive of entries posted on 20th October 2003
Frank Answers: Popeye Laugh, Convenient Bombing, Baseball Curses, and Poo Flinging Monkeys
Ross McIntosh from Syria writes:
How would I type Popeye’s laugh? I’ve tried all kinds of things and
none of them seem to convey it properly.
“Ah Guh Guh Guh!” seems closest to me, but nothing can match the sound of the world’s most disfigured man himself.
Jessica R. from Waco, Tx writes:
While bombing the nations of France, Germany, Iraq, Syria, North Korea, and any other stupid, socialist, or annoying countries is appealing… oh, so deliciously appealing, is there any way to make it more efficient? I mean, it just seems wasteful to bomb all the countries individually, so I’m wondering if there’s a way we can simply round these countries up in one convenient location.
That’s what U.N. summits are for (far as I can figure).
Mike from a hole in the ground asks:
Will the Red Sox win the World Series next year?
No, because of the curse from when they sold the Bambino to fund opening the pharaoh’s tomb in which they found a goat.
Plus, they will never beat the Yankees since they have Hideki Matsui who has the spirit of the samurai in him and hits very honorable homeruns. Hai!
Mike, Franklin, TN writes:
recently i read that monkeys fling poo to show love, hate, or jealously. and i also read that monkeys fling poo alot. liberal democrats also enjoy flinging poo around mainly at republicans. so i guess my question is,are democrats really just cyborgs created by the monkeys to destroy us all?
Just Al Gore.
Please keep the questions coming, <a href=”mailto:THISISSPAMTHISISSPAMace you’re from, I’ll randomly select one.
In My World: Bush Haters of the World Unite!
“The meeting of Bush Haters is called to order,” Michael Moore announced, “Jonathan Chait, please read the minutes from the last meeting.”
“By unanimous vote, we declared that we hate Bush,” Chait said as he read from the minutes that were made from hastily writing with a crayon, “Also, by unanimous vote, we declared that we are much smarter than the general populace. By majority vote, it was decided that people were much happier under Saddam than the occupying force led by Bush. We also determined that we will spend more time trying to resolve how Bush can be both extremely dumb and evil and scheming and constantly outsmarting us at the same time. Still open to debate is whether Bush is worse than Hitler.”
“I like Hitler! He kill joos!”
“Oh, I would like to welcome some new members to the Bush Haters club,” Moore said, “but I need to remind our Islamic extremist friends that we refer to Jews here as ‘neo-conservatives’. I think it’s time to open the floor to general fomenting. I’ll start.” Moore took a deep breath and fixed his hat. “I hate Bush!” he screamed, shaking the floor as he jumped up and down, “I’m too busy hating Bush to shave or bathe. And he drives me to eat excessively!”
“You could use some of your eating time to instead bathe,” suggested someone in the audience.
“You shut up!” Moore responded.
“Bathing is over-rated,” Jaques Chirac said, “Anyway, I hate Bush because he won’t recognize the moral superiority of the French. He’s always warring and liberating when the proper way to deal with foreign affairs is to be impotent and gripe about others.”
Al Fraken now stood up, his hair uncombed and his clothes disheveled. “Bush drove me to drink! I don’t just hate him, but I hate the right-wing media too that keeps labeling me as ‘deranged’! And I think the restraining order Alan Colmes put on me is overly harsh.”
“Gerrwargh lies erghwaggy!” Senator Ted Kennedy stated, flailing his arms wildly. Everyone nodded to his wisdom.
“I think we need to raise the level of discourse,” Chait stated, “There are a lot of perfectly rational reason to dislike Bush and…” Chait started getting tremors. “Who am I kidding! I just hate Bush because of how he walks and… uh… stuff.” Chait started punching a wall.
“We hate Bush because he has too many Secret Service agents guarding him!” shouted one of the Islamic extremists in the back.
“I hate Bush because he stole my pills!” yelled Helen Thomas.
A man with a bushy mustache stood up. “No one hates Bush more than me! I lost my job because of him.”
“He only cares about the rich like me,” Moore said firmly.
“And I lost two sons because of him,” the man continued.
“If only Bush would help the poor get healthcare,” Chait stated.
“Yeah… it was a healthcare issue,” the man said uneasily, “By the way, I need a place to crash since… uh… Ashcroft is after me with the Patriot Act since… uh… I said things about Bush– Yeah, that’s the ticket!”
“What your name?” Moore asked.
“Saddam Hu… I mean Ed.”
Chait answered is cell phone. “What? There is an infiltrator in our group!”
“Probably a jooo!” yelled one the Islamic extremists, “I mean neo-conservative!”
Moore looked to one of the most trusted members of the Bush Haters club. “Chomps, the world’s angriest Bush hater, do you have any suspects?”
“Gerrrarh,” Chomps answered.
“Maybe it’s just the unidentified pills I took,” Al Fraken said, “but doesn’t Chomps kinda look like a rottweiler with a mustache glued on and wearing a Rastafarian hat?”
“And he’s barely more coherent than Ted,” Chait added.
“We can’t just turn on each other for our odd appearances,” Moore said, “Then again, those are kinda sharp, jagged looking teeth he has now that I can see them since he’s curled is lips up. And the way he’s staring at each of us with a thirst for blood is a bit unsettling.”
“All this questioning of him seems to have made him angry,” Chait said, “Very angry.”
“Uh oh.”
Donald Rumsfeld sat on his back porch, drinking his whiskey. Suddenly Chomps ran up.
“There you are,” Rumsfeld exclaimed, “I always wonder where you go running off to during the day; guess you have business of your own to handle. Now what’s that in your mouth?”
Chomps dropped the item and panted happily.
“Looks like someone is missing an arm,” Rumsfeld chuckled, “Guess that’s why God gave us two.”