Rosie O’ Donnell is right on when she says that Christian Extremists are as bad as Muslim Extremists.
Here is my artistic ode to Ms. O’ Donnell’s amazing observation.
I for one am glad that Rosie spoke Truth to Power. I am sick and tired of these Christians ramming our buildings with airplanes while singing “Praise Jesus!”.
Enough!!
Archive of entries posted on 14th September 2006
In My World: Stains
“I don’t care anything about terrorism!” Bill Clinton declared loudly to Sandy Berger and Madeleine Albright. “I just care about getting BJs from interns!”
“Wow,” President Bush remarked, “this ABC movie really does make Clinton look bad.”
“You’re not watching ABC, dear,” Laura Bush told him. “You’re looking out the window. Clinton and his friends were coming over today, remember?”
“Oh yeah. I forgot why I was scotch-guarding everything.”
“And I’m going to go hide the valuables. Call me if you need anything.” Laura headed out the door.
Clinton, Berger, and Albright entered the Oval Office. “Hey! Dubya! Good to see you, man!” Clinton exclaimed.
Bush quickly backed away to avoid a hug. “What do you want, Slick?”
“Just the usual, ya know.” He bit his lip. “I’m looking for my legacy.”
“Well, I ain’t seen it. I did see some odd garbage by the dumpster out back; that might be it.”
Clinton laughed. “Dubya is a funny guy, ain’t he?”
Albright looked unamused. Berger looked around the room in a way that made Bush quite wary.
Clinton walked through the office. “Man, I miss this place.” He suddenly stopped in one spot and smiled as he looked to Bush. “Know what I used to do right here?”
Bush was horrified. “No! And I don’t want to know! If you try and tell me, I’ll punch you in your big stupid mouth!”
“Fair enough.”
Bush looked suspiciously at the three of them. “So what are you guys up to?”
“Just thinking of the history books,” Clinton said. “You see, that recent slanderous miniseries on ABC got us really thinking again about how history will look back on my administration. The problem is, my presidency was between the end of the Cold War and before 9/11. It was eight, uneventful years of economic prosperity.”
“Yeah, that must have been rough for you. Now, can you get to your point, because I was going to give a speech today on–” Bush noticed his written speech was missing from his desk. “Where did my speech go?” He pointed an accusing finger at Berger. “Did you shove it down your pants?”
“No… I… Okay, I did.” Berger pulled the speech out of his pants and handed it to Bush.
“Aww! Now it’s going to smell of Berger pants!” Bush quickly put it back on his desk. “Why do you always have to shove stuff down your pants?”
“I have the opposite problem,” Clinton chuckled. “I can’t keep things in my pants.”
“We all know your problem, Slick.”
“Anyway, Dubya what we’re worried about is that our administration will get unfairly ignored,” Clinton said. “I’m just afraid that people aren’t going to remember a good economy years from now and something must be done to make sure people remember me far into the future.”
“So, let me guess, you’re going to star in some pornos?”
Clinton shrugged. “I have some offers, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I need to make it more apparent to the public that my administration anticipated the terrorist threat.”
“That would be nice for you,” Bush said, “except you didn’t. Instead, that was just another mess left for me.”
“There was no terrorism until you came along!” Albright screeched. “You! You! You! It’s all because of you!”
“Actually, weren’t there a number of attacks during–”
Albright started hitting Bush with an umbrella. “You! You! No terrorism until you!”
Bush swatted her away. “Get away from me, you old bat!” His phone started ringing. “It’s the Attorney General; as much as I like reminiscing about when Democrats were just scumbags instead of completely nuts, I have to take this.” Bush picked up the phone. “What is it, Speedy?”
“I want to get information out of our terrorists suspects, but I’m all confused on what I’m allowed to do without it being considered torture. I’m being told I can’t yell at them, I can’t play loud music, I can’t shine lights in their eyes, and I can’t connect their gonads to car batteries because that’s all ‘torture.'”
“Just do what your heart tells you is right.”
“Well, in my heart, I hate all humanity and love to hear people scream in pain.”
“Whatever; just figure it out because I have Bill Clinton bothering me.”
“Man, I’d love to hook his gonads up to a car battery.”
“No, he’d probably like that.” Bush hung up and looked to Clinton. “I’m not going to help you with your stupid legacy, Slick. I have problems enough making it seems like I’m not the worst President in history.” Bush thought for a moment. “Well, worst two-term President in history. I’m finally getting my polls numbers nearing 50%, and it won’t help things to be seen near you.”
“Fine,” Clinton said. “I just thought you and me could be friends and help each other out. So, how’s the wife?”
“She not a conniving shrew who I have a sham of a marriage with, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Clinton laughed. “You’re good with those zingers. So, seriously, like what’s she wearing?”
Bush knocked Clinton to the ground with a right-hook.
Clinton picked himself off the floor. “Entirely justified. If you knew exactly the sort of things I was thinking of doing to your wife–”
Bush punched Clinton again, sending him back to the floor.
Clinton chuckled and wiped the blood from his mouth as he stood back up. “I really need to learn when to shut up. At least I didn’t ask you about your daughters.”
The next punch knocked Clinton into a wall before he fell to the ground. Suddenly, a hulking mass appeared at the doorway. “Reno hungry!” it declared.
“Okay, Janet.” Clinton stood up once more. “We’ll go get lunch now.” Clinton looked to Bush. “Just think about helping my legacy, and maybe I can help yours.”
“And you think about getting some serious therapy,” Bush answered.
Clinton chuckled as he and the rest walked out the door. “That Dubya; he’s a funny guy.”
Laura then came to the office and looked at the floor. “A blood stain! Well, I guess I was worrying about even worse stains to clean up when I heard he was visiting.”
“Yeah, Slick sure has an effect on people when he drops by. If anyone needs me in the next three hours, tell them I’m showering.”
What Do You Call a Moderate with No Arms and No Legs Hanging on the Wall
Pajamas Media has a contest to come up with a good name for people who don’t fall under the “left-wing” or “right-wing” labels. Here are my ideas:
“Half-wits”
“Goobers”
“Swishy”
“People I Have Punched or Will Punch in the Face”
“Stupid Ugly Monkey People”
“Hagel”
I’ve never had much use for moderates, and I never will.
Man Enough To Admit When I’m Wrong
On June 30th, 2004, I predicted that Air America would be dead & gone by February of 2005. I was off by 19 months, and I apologize for my inaccuracy.
Nevertheless, I here re-publish the list of potential excuses Air America will use to explain its failure. We’ll see if I’m at least right about these:
- Contract with Satan guaranteeing Air America’s success found invalid due to not being signed in blood.
- Al Franken’s thick glasses kept accidentally setting the studio on fire.
- Randi Rhodes didn’t talk about her nipples enough.
- Too much money wasted on salaries, not enought spent on bribes to Clear Channel executives.
- Rush Limbaugh depleted the nation’s supply of Oxycontin, so not enough was available to make Air America’s hosts witty and insightful.
- Digital brownshirts kept smashing people’s radios
- Al Franken is Jewish, so Bushitler had him gassed.
- The fact that Al Franken is still alive does NOT disprove this theory.
- Air America staff constantly attacked by vicious hordes of rats and cockroaches, who, apparently, didn’t appreciate the competition.
- The Air America signal simply wouldn’t carry. Not surprising, since vibrations in the electomagnetic spectrum tend to vote Republican.
- Nobody was buying commerical spots. Even a NAMBLA spokesman was quoted as saying “we don’t want our reputation soiled by these degenerates”.
- Air America had to shut down because of the McCain-Feingold campaign finance laws, which expressly forbid such things as speaking in direct support of a candidate, or speaking at all if you’re dumber than a bucket of monkey dung.
- Although Al Franken created a lot of great material, he would often flush the toilet before it could be retrieved.
So… which one do you think they’ll use?
Ah, Those Peaceful Blackouts
Ole Blinky (also known as Florida Power and Light) decide to give out again, so I was stuck at work in the dark. Luckily, with my cool PDA phone thingee, I was just able to sit back and listen to music while reading Jim Baen’s Universe. I decided to finally get to the serial John Ringo is writing in it as I’ve been quite interested to read some of his work as I know my brother is a fan and he was nice enough to write me an e-mail when I first showed some interest in Baen’s Bar about writing science fiction. He’s known for military SF, but his serial so far is more about a boy adjusting to a new school – but still a good read. Anyone can draw your attention with explosions; it takes skill to make the mundane interesting.
BTW, as for the progress of Hellbender, I’m having trouble getting it restarted. I know where it goes, but the beginning is giving trouble. Still, I’ll power through, and, when I have the first couple chapters done, I’ll put those up for preview and critique for those interested.
I have ideas for a new In My World™ (the political season is heating up, and there’s just so much material), but I also have some number theory to play with – and that I get paid for (well, more than blogging). You’ll get teh funny soon, though, so keep reloading the page like a madman until new posts appear.
Be honorable, ronin.
UPDATE:
If you’re interested in the issue of digital rights management, Baen’s Universe editor Eric Flint has three editorials on the subject all free to view (part1, part2, part3). He doesn’t like Disney – but not because they made a miniseries that reflected poorly on Clinton. As for me, I just want to know when I can steal music and not feel guilty about it.
Oh, wait, I can do that now! Ah, the joys of an underdeveloped superego.
Help Save Science Fiction at Jim Baen’s Universe!
Today’s Simpsons Trivia
1) Who plans to become a jazz musician and have torrid love affairs when she grows up?
2) What is the name of the baseball bat Homer makes for himself?
3) Why did Mike Scioscia shoot Waylon Smithers?
4) In “Homer at the Bat”, who falls into the Springfield Mystery Spot?
Official Trivia Card answers in the comments tomorrow.
Ok, you hip kids are gonna have to help me out here
Just how much injury can you get from falling off your Segway when it accidentally reverses direction?
Dude, you’re like three inches off the ground, and your maximum speed is 12.5 miles per hour. It’s a moving sidewalk raised off the ground a few inches.
Perhaps I’m missing something.