We’re All Going to Die

If Glenn Beck had any sense, he’d be talking about this instead of whether Putin is Gog or Magog:


I found this through Ace (that’s right; I found this monkey news myself before any of you e-mailed me — you guys are slacking). That is an orangutan spearfishing. They had never done that before.
They are learning.
Becoming smarter.
Becoming deadlier.
Now they’re killing fish with spears, but how long until they’re coming through our windows with shotguns?
At least I’m not the only one seeing where this is going.

Let’s Spotlight New Talent

Do you like conservative ranting? Do you like heavy metal? Do you like black people? Then check out this guy where you get all three at once. Ranting by itself can be pretty cool, but Zo does his research, man.
Watch. Discuss.
Hat tip to TBinSTL

Fred Thompson on Obama


How long until someone explains that the epithet “typical” is racist? Of course, Obama has already used in a racist context.
Missing is the part where Fred Thompson says, “God might not have smote Wright for ranting in a church like that, but I sure would have.”
From Hot Air.

A Story, Bit by Bit
Hellbender: Chapter 22 – Priorities

PREVIOUS
Doug was quite familiar with concussions and thus was certain he had one. He felt both dizzy and tired and wanted nothing more than to just lay where he was. He was also hurting all over and pretty sure he was bleeding, but not so much he felt a desperate need to do something about it. Still, he heard others moaning around him and footsteps nearby and knew he couldn’t just hope things turned out all right.
Doug felt around for one of his weapons, and screamed as a foot stomped down on his hand. “There you are,” said a female voice.
He looked up to see another woman completely covered in body armor, a rifle slung over her shoulder. “What do you want?”
“A spectacle.” She grabbed Doug and dragged him out of the car. Doug struggled to his feet, but she kicked him and sent him slamming into a wall, something striking him in the small of the back before he fell to the ground. The train appeared to have crashed in an abandoned part of town. Most cities had whole sections that had become ghost towns due to the huge decrease in population from the War.
“Haven’t you killed enough?”
“For now.” She punched Doug in the face and then rifled through his coat until she pulled out the cube. “I want you to open this.”
Doug slowly stood up. “Even if I knew how, I wouldn’t just because you psychos want me to.”
“Even if in it is the secret to fighting the Transcendents?”
Doug let go of his anger long enough to become curious. “Do you know what’s in it?”
“We know why we want it. We’re fighting against the Trans.”
“But you work for Elza.”
She laughed. “Well, not against all the Trans then.”
“But why kill all these people?”
She held the cube close to Doug’s face. He didn’t feel the depression and despair as much as he did before but he still moved away from it. “If only you knew how small a matter that was,” she said, “you wouldn’t even give it a moment’s thought.”
Doug pushed backed into the wall and felt the object in the small of his back again. Now he remembered what that was. “I guess I shouldn’t think too much about this, then.” He pulled out his snub-nose revolver and shot the soldier in the face. He wasn’t sure the bullet penetrated the helmet, but she did go down. No one, under any conditions, likes being shot in the face. Picking up the cube, he was about to head back for the train when he saw a group of people walk towards him. His vision was blurry, but he could see all were in black except for the one at front.
The leader made a motion, and the gun was knocked out of Doug’s hand like it had been hit by a strong gust of wind. “We’re not here to hurt you,” the man said. Doug could finally see who it was: Darius backed by a dozen Protectors. “Luckily, Asmod was able to convince Viath of the importance of getting the cube back in proper hands, so he allowed my people passage here. Looks like we were just in time.” He walked over to Doug and took the cube from Doug’s hand and looked it over. “How did it get bunnies on it?”
A part of Doug felt he should snatch the cube back, but he had no idea what he’d be trying to do to fight these people. Plus, there were more important things on mind. “You have your cube. I need help finding my friends now.”
“If you mean Charlene Marshal, she already with us and she’s fine. My understanding is your two other associates are far enough away from this that there is no risk to them. Now, for discretion’s sake, we need to be out of here before Viath’s people arrive to clean up this mess.”
Some Protectors roughly led Doug away with Darius. They soon came to a large transport. They pushed Doug inside where he saw Charlene and Lara seated next to each other. Charlene immediately embraced Doug, tears in here eyes. “I thought you were dead!”
He patted her on the back. “I’m okay. So what’s going on?”
“Did you get the cube?” Lara asked.
Darius entered and shut the door. “That he did.”
Doug let go of Charlene and turned to Darius. “So it’s all good then? We get paid and can go our separate ways?”
Darius looked a moment at the cube in his hand and then at Doug. “I’m afraid our deal has changed.”


“Anything new?” It was perfunctory question, as Lulu had laid her head on Bryce’s shoulder and could see the screen as well as he could.
“Nothing new.” They then had to wait to catch a train back to Avaro. It was now approaching evening and the sun was beginning to set, and all they knew of their friends was that there was a terrorist attack on the train resulting in an unspecified number of deaths.
The handheld computer beeped, indicating a new message. Lulu sat up. “Maybe that’s them!”
“Maybe.” Bryce checked the message, and it was perhaps the most shocking piece of news he had ever received.
“What is it?” Lulu asked with concern. She then glimpsed at the screen. “Holy flipping ninjas!”
The message was from his bank. Three million had been deposited into his account. Bryce slowly regained his composure. “I guess we did it.”
“Go team Hellbender!” Lulu weakly pumped her fist in the air. “That must mean Charlene and Doug are okay if they got the cube and delivered it.”
“But if they aren’t okay, then that just means we get their shares. Good new either way,” Bryce joked weakly. He checked his account again just to make sure it was no mistake. It wasn’t. He was rich. The world was as it should be. The other details were unimportant. Still, one thing nagged at him. “That’s five hundred thousand more than we agreed to. I wonder what that’s for?”
NEXT

Seems like the worst thing that happened to these “wealthy” was having to talk to the NYT

Check it. I found this at HuffPo.
Pain of Foreclosures Spreads to the Affluent” is the name of the NY Times article. Wait. Let’s stop right there. Last I heard, all of the foreclosures were because the evil mortgage people tricked the dumb poor people into taking mortgages they can’t afford to pay. Are you telling me that the rich people were “tricked” too? I’m guessing all of these rich folks feeling the heat from the mortgage companies — they’re all either trust fund babies or pro athletes, right? Because people smart enough to become affluent couldn’t ever be “tricked” into taking these mortgages.
I know it’s not possible that people knew what they were getting into when they signed their papers (because some people do actually read a piece of paper that is going to put them in debt for 10, 15, or 30 years), because the media tells me that the evil mortgage companies did it.
Let’s read the article together, shall we? We’re in Greenwich, Connecticut.

On Stanwich Road, for example, a house worth $2.6 million is close to going on the block. On Hettiefred Road, the owner of a 2,720-square-foot, four-bedroom colonial featuring a luxury kitchen, swimming pool and tennis court, has been threatened with foreclosure for months. Several dozen other owners in Greenwich have received foreclosure notices this year.

Oh. Oh. So we’re talking about a house that is “close” to going on the block and another that has been “threatened with foreclosure.” And people who have received foreclosure notices. All of that would suck, yes, but are the affluent of Greenwich really feeling the pain of foreclosure? I would think the pain of foreclosure is when you’re actually, um… foreclosed upon, and you have to move out quickly and have a hard time finding a place to stay because no one wants to rent to you when you just defaulted on your loan for whatever reason.

But there is a difference from most other communities. Auctioning off such homes is a far greater challenge here than elsewhere, as affluent but cash-squeezed owners often find ways to delay losing their homes, sometimes by coming up with just enough to make last-minute payments avoiding a final sale — for a while, anyway.

Come again? I thought the article was going to say that auctioning off such homes is a far greater challenge in Greenwich because the homes are outrageously expensive and people don’t want to pay so much for a house. But no. Auctions are a “greater challenge” there because people are able to make their payments. Oh noes!

Just ask John Thygerson, who parked his Jeep sport utility vehicle in front of the empty house on Hettiefred Road on the flawless spring day last Saturday.
As a foreclosure auctioneer, he was scheduled — for the third time since January — to sell the house. But the owner, a construction business owner who has fallen on hard times, made a last-minute mortgage payment and the foreclosure was postponed yet again.

Poor John Thygerson! Postponed yet again! Poor guy just wants to foreclose on a house on a flawless spring day, and the evil homeowner made a payment!

So Mr. Thygerson was there to shoo prospective buyers off the property, nod at inquisitive neighbors and stake out a new spot for a fourth set of foreclosure signs after the first three had been mysteriously torn down.

Here’s a clue to your mystery: The owner did it. Case solved. And poor guy, having to shoo off prospective buyers. Work is hard.

“We never had a case that had gone through three separate sales attempts,” he said, still dazed that the auction failed to take place. “Greenwich being Greenwich, foreclosures are a rare occurrence.”

And there you go. The pain of foreclosures is hitting the Greenwich affluent because… foreclosures are a rare occurrence. Those poor people in Greenwich who aren’t being foreclosed. I’d just go ahead and off myself if I were them, being able to make their mortgage payments and keep their homes and all.

Rare, perhaps, but not unheard-of, as the housing industry collapse starts to claim victims among the affluent. Personal traumas like business reversal, illness and divorce play a role. There’s no real pattern, with people as diverse as builders, restaurateurs and poker players at risk of losing their homes.

What? The evil mortgage company isn’t at fault? I don’t follow.

But even the most financially stressed of Greenwich homeowners have generally been able to ward off actually losing their homes.

Well, that’s just awful. People keeping their homes.

In the last 30 days, none of the three Greenwich properties listed for auction were actually sold.

Terrible, that.

In Greenwich, foreclosure filings were made against 100 homes last year, according to RealtyTrac. That translates into less than half of 1 percent of Greenwich’s 24,511 households, compared with a rate higher than 1 percent nationwide.

Note, that’s the number of filings, not the number of actual foreclosures. This article is doing such a great job of showing me how painful it is to not lose your house due to wealth.

By 2007, the Connecticut Economic Resources Center reported, the median household income had risen to $122,849, with many homeowners earning far more.

I’d hope they’re earning far more if they’re buying multi-million-dollar homes.

The tearing down of existing homes to make room for new ones has continued despite the mortgage crisis that began last summer. And while prices and sales volume are dropping, Greenwich is not suffering as badly as nearby towns.

Greenwich is growing and building and not suffering as badly as nearby towns? I’m sorry, I missed how this article is about what the title says?

Through April 23 this year, 160 co-ops, condos and single-family homes sold for $290,000 to $30 million. That compares with 240 sales, from $385,000 to $12 million, for the period in 2007, according to the Greenwich Multiple Listing Service.

Just curious, are you comparing apples to apples? Was the $30 million sale a 10,000 sq. ft. house while the $12 million house is only 4,000? You can’t just throw stats out without the important supporting information or they mean nothing.

Still, lawyers working on Greenwich’s early foreclosure cases predict that most will never reach the auction stage because their homeowners almost always have other options.

Did Harvey write this?

As for the four-bedroom colonial that just avoided going on the block, Zbigniew Skwarek, the 41-year-old owner, came up with his own money to postpone the auction. Court records show he stopped paying on his mortgage on Feb. 1, 2007. But three days before the scheduled auction, he said, he gave his lender a check for $50,000.
Mr. Skwarek may not live in one of Greenwich’s most coveted neighborhoods. But like many residents here, he owns other properties, including an apartment in Greenwich and a home in Florida, and he can tap into that equity.

Now, there’s your problem. The poor rich guy who didn’t lose his house even though he didn’t pay his mortgage for over a year owns another apartment nearby and a house in Florida? He couldn’t have sold something to make his payments? Maybe he just forgot that he had three mortgages and only remembered the other two. I’m crying for him, really.

“I don’t want to lose this house,” Mr. Skwarek said in a telephone interview.

Then make your payments. Sell something else. We can’t have it all, dude.

Mr. Skwarek rented out the house after he divorced his wife, Renata, in 2004, because, he said, it felt too big to live in alone. But last year, he said, his renters, John and Arline Josephberg, stopped paying their monthly rent of $10,000.

Oh, it’s the renters’ fault! Of course! And if it’s too big to live in alone, maybe you should sell it. Do you really not want to lose the house if you don’t even care to live in it?

But public records show that Mr. Skwarek had trouble paying his bills even before he rented out his home. Court documents show that he also owes construction and supply companies more than $200,000 for unpaid bills on his home.

Good grief. I don’t even think I can make it through the rest of the article. The title suggests we’re supposed to be sad, but all I’ve read is that people are keeping their houses and/or are deadbeats.

He has a felony conviction for not paying wages to his workers and a misdemeanor for issuing a bad check.

Who gave this guy a mortgage?

Vincent Scorese, who owns a house next door and also faces the risk of foreclosure, moved out and rented out his home after he went through a divorce. He said that as a builder he became overextended and found it difficult to make his mortgage payments on the five properties he owns in the area. So he has put them all up for sale.

Finally, someone with sense. He can’t afford his mortgages, so he’s selling his five houses.

Mr. Skwarek says he is eager to hold onto his home, especially because it represents the culmination of his longstanding immigrant dream. Mr. Skwarek said he grew up outside of Warsaw and studied construction in Germany, France and Britain.

And studying not paying his bills in America.

Mr. Skwarek has still not figured out how he will hold on to his home. He will try to rent it again, he said. If that doesn’t work, he plans to move in and rent out his apartment. He remains optimistic that foreclosure will never happen and that his lender will help him find a way to escape his financial trap.
“They want to work with people like me,” he said.

People who haven’t paid them even the price of a steak dinner in over a year.

Mr. Thygerson, the auctioneer, agrees that he may never get a chance to do his job.

I hope he doesn’t work on commission.
Cross-posted from Mountaineer Musings.

Someone Is Not Bitterly Clinging to Her Bible

A couple of times I posted about the paradox of liberal Christians, wondering why they even bother with Christianity when they have to toss out so many beliefs to make themselves feel good about their current actions. Pelosi helped me understand with this quote from Earth Day:

“The Bible tells us in the Old Testament, ‘To minister to the needs of God’s creation is an act of worship. To ignore those needs is to dishonor the God who made us.'”

So liberals just make up Bible quotes to fit whatever they want to argue for.
“And God said to Adam and Eve, ‘Be fruitful and multiply… but if you don’t feel like having another child and get pregnant, do what you need to. I won’t judge.'”
“And God said to Abraham, ‘I shall destroy Sodom and Gomorrah, for they are wicked and don’t allow gay marriage.'”
“And Jesus said, ‘Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, because he’s the government and he knows how to spend your money better. Seriously, give your money to him and not to me or my followers; religious charities are no match for the benevolence of the government.’ Jesus then mocked everyone who believed in Him for being stupid and closed-minded.”

The Perfect McCain Slogan

That about sums it up.
(profanity warning)
Certainly haven’t come up with a better one myself.

People Who Don’t Like Me Assume I Have Magical Mind-Reading Powers

You don’t know how many times I get angry hate mail where I have no idea what the person is talking about. Obviously, some person looking for porn accidentally stumbled onto an old post and then sends me an e-mail ranting about it but not telling what post made the person angry as he apparently assumes I’ll psychically know what the hell he is talking about.
Here’s an e-mail I got today (usual rules on profanity in hate mail apply):

SUBJECT: screw you ronin
Uh, I don’t know who you are or where you are from, but screw you if you want to make fun of us. We are not all hillbilly’s. We don’t mind the river flooding, I’d rather it flood then be stuck in a damn earthquake and fall into the earth in Cali! We do get personalized license plates and I think we can spell better than you ronin. Yes we do have all our teeth and not more than we should ronin. You have really offended me and this state, if I ever catch you around here you will see what a redneck can happily do to you, you stupid piece of eight! I know you are probably one of those “I don’t give a banana hammock who I offend people”, but let me tell you brother, you are going to burn in hell for talking about people like that. Have a nice day idiot.

From context, I’m guessing he read one of Harvey’s “Fun Facts About the 50 States” posts (they’re under Fun Trivia as I apparently wasn’t smart enough to make a separate category for them), but not only does he not tell me what post he’s reacting to, he doesn’t even give me a clue of what state I need to stay out of to avoid being beaten by rednecks. How do people this stupid even get on the internet? I e-mailed for clarification — as I do every time this sort of thing happens — but if history is any indication, I shouldn’t expect a response.
UPDATE:
I googled some of things mentioned in the e-mail and my best guess is he’s from Mississippi and reacting to this post by Harvey. Someone takes his state a little too seriously.
When did Mississippi get the internet?

Superdelegate FAQ

Q. Why do the Democrats have superdelegates?
A. Democrats got burned by democracy in many previous elections, so they decided that after the long primary battle between Democratic candidates for the president, they’ll just go ahead and have their elites pick the winner.
Q. So why even have the primary process and not just have the superdelegates pick the winner?
A. The Democrats know they need to keep their voters busy or they might try thinking for themselves.
Q. The Democrats claim that the superdelegates only enhances the primary process. Is this true?
A. The stated purpose of the superdelegates is to make sure that the idiots who make up the Democrat base don’t nominate someone unelectable.
Q. Like Barack Obama?
A. Yep. Shiny new candidate all the dummies flock to while the elites deep down know he’s going to be a disaster.
Q. Plus, the Democrats don’t want the minorities to get all uppity.
A. Well that goes without saying.
Q. So who are the superdelegates?
A. They are the elites of the elites — the intelligentsia of the Democratic Party.
Q. White people!
A. Pretty much. While white men don’t actually vote for Democrats anymore, they still run the party.
Q. I don’t trust white people.
A. I’m not going to argue you should.

The inventor of the Democrats’ superdelegate system.

Q. So how does one get to be a superdelegate?
A. You have to work in the higher echelons of the party, laugh at religious people, and consistently underestimate middle America.
Q. And be white.
A. I didn’t say it.
Q. It’s time to take the party away from those honkeys!
A. Why is my questioner today a black militant?
Q. Shut up, cracker! I’m asking the questions!
A. Fine. Anymore questions?
Q. So is the superdelegate system pretty much assured to rip the Democratic Party apart?
A. Yes. You’d almost think some Republican operative came up with idea.
Q. Who did come up with it?
A. Someone named Rarl Kove. Is it just me, or does his mustache look fake?
Q. All I know is that he looks white, so you know he’s up to something!
A. You can say that again, brother.
Q. Don’t brother me, honkey!
A. Sorry.

Maybe He’s Just Courting Edwards’s Pansy Voting Bloc?

In primaries, debates, and in the finer points of smear-campaign, Barack Obama keeps showing America how good he is.
At getting beaten by a girl.
A GIRL!
How can he be expected to stand up to ruthless, cut-throat Islamic terrorists – who, according to scientific studies, beat girls all the time – when he’s constantly getting his ass handed to him by a Breastified-American?
Seriously, the dude needs to sneak the key to Michelle’s testicular lock box out from underneath her pillow, strap on a pair, and cowboy up.
Here are my suggestions for ways Obama can toughen up his image to improve his chances of having the honor of losing to a REAL man in November:


Obama’s new testosterone-powered campaign tour bus
  • Claim that he once gazed up Fred Thompson’s mighty visage without being turned into stone.
  • Point out to journalists asking tough questions that he knows both unrepentant terrorists and the journalists’ home addresses.
  • Post a YouTube video of himself successfully de-candifying a baby (note to Obama: edit out the failed attempts before posting).
  • When whining about the unfairness of debate questions, do it with a Schwarzenegger accent.
  • Drop the Cosmo scrip.
  • Casually twirl a butterfly knife during stump speeches.
  • Surround himself with guys who make him look rugged by comparison, like cripples or interior decorators.
  • Kick a puppy and laugh.
  • Don’t look at me like that. It worked for Hillary, didn’t it?
  • Promise that if he’s elected, he’ll replace water-boarding with scorpion-boarding.
  • Film himself defeating a Spaniard, a Giant, and a Sicilian.

YOU got any suggestions? Come on, help a brother out.

It Seems Like Genius, But I Think He’s Just Cranky

Have you seen the racket McCain has going? Initially I dismissed it as just nutroots whining, but it is pretty sweet. Either a person makes an offensive statement about Obama or a group puts out an attack ad against him, McCain then denounces the person or ad, the statement or ad gets played over and over so everyone can see what McCain is offended by while McCain gets praised by everyone in the media for denouncing the attack. Of course, he upsets conservatives when it’s a completely legitimate attacks he’s denouncing, but the Republican primary already proved that no one cares what we think.

People Expect Too Much Out of White Men

I was looking at the exit poll data for the Pennsylvania Democratic Primary, and I noticed some things. First off, it was 58% female, because, as I’ve said before, it’s very hard to imagine someone which a penis voting for a Democrat. The other things I noticed involved race and gender. Blacks went insanely for Obama at 90% for him versus 10% for Hillary. White women had an absurd 68% percent for Hillary versus 32% for Obama. That left it up to white men to actually vote for one or the other based on the issues and not just their racial or gender identity (they went 57% to 43% for Hillary). It’s kinda unfair to put that much responsibility on them. Plus, I’ve known plenty of white males, and they are not the sort of people you want making all these decisions.

A Story, Bit by Bit
Hellbender: Chapter 21 – Violence

PREVIOUS
“Why is this train flying?” Lulu pointed out the window. “There’s plenty of room down there for tracks. It’s only flying because it seems high-tech, and everyone want everything to be ‘high-tech’ whether it serves a purpose or not.”
Bryce sighed and sat down. “I don’t care, Tri-Lu. Should we check around the train once more?”
Lulu didn’t answer and kept staring out the window with an odd expression. Bryce heard gasps and then looked out the window as well. He could see in the distance the other train and it looked like parts of it were exploding. “I guess we have the wrong train.”
“I’m not sure you can call the non-exploding train the ‘wrong’ one,” Lulu answered.
The other train looked like it was descending. “You can when you have millions invested in the exploding one.”
“I hope Charlene and Doug are okay.” She turned and faced Bryce. “I don’t care if Lara is okay.”
“I figured.” Bryce looked around the car. “You think this thing has an emergency brake?”
“It might if it were on the ground.”


For a moment, Doug could only stare in disbelief. The four women with Handler began shooting and stabbing the passengers while Handler just watched and smiled. People pleading for their lives were struck down, and then the horrifying realization hit Doug that this was going to keep happening unless he did something.
He ripped the sword from the hidden sheath on his back and cut through one of the Amazons just as she was about to shoot another passenger. Blood splashed on his face but his mind was racing from too much adrenal to care. The others kept killing, not paying Doug any attention. He stabbed one who was armed with a short sword and then remembered his gun.
He tossed his sword to his left and hand and drew his gun to Handler’s head who looked back at him with amusement. “You seem to be taking this personally.”
“You’re insane!” Doug screamed at her. The two other remaining Amazons paused to watch, allowing those left alive time to flee, but Doug could hear gunfire both in front of him and behind him on the train.
Handler still looked at him as if this were all some big joke. “If sanity is defined as having an accurate perception of reality, then we’re the only sane ones on this train.”
“Stop this or I will kill you!”
She laughed. “You should threaten people with things they’re afraid of, dear.” The other two laughed as well as began to leave the car.
The mixture of confusion and rage was a bit much for Doug’s brain. He couldn’t remember much of what happened next, but his ears were ringing from gunfire when he walked into another car. There were men and women huddled on the floor there, not having anywhere to flee for safety. “Don’t kill us!” one yelled at him.
“I’m with Hellbender; I’m here to help. Stay here.” Doug wrested control of himself again. He couldn’t quite understand what was going on and why, but he was able to break it down into something simple he could understand: He had to kill all the bad people.
A bullet broke the glass to the door to the next car. Doug charged forward. Some vehicle had crashed through the side of the train and was lodged into it. He saw someone in full body armor armed with a rifle standing among dead bodies. “Are you Doug?” she asked.
“Yes.” Doug fired at her, but the bullets only knocked her back slightly as she fired back wildly. Doug dived to the ground and heard more gunfire though no bullets struck anywhere near him. He looked up to see Charlene standing over the soldier fire down. “Charlene!”
She looked at him. “What the hell is happening here?”
Doug got himself off the ground. “I don’t know! They’re after me or something! Where’s Bryce and Lulu?”
Charlene reloaded. “They’re on the other train.”
He saw Lara enter the car, and he ran over and placed his sword to her neck. “You’re behind this! This was a setup!”
“How does that make any sense?” Lara shouted back angrily.
Charlene pulled Doug away. “I don’t trust her either, but she just helped me fight off a couple armed gunmen so let’s keep things in perspective. What we need right now is to get out of here.” She looked at the transport lodged in the wall. “Maybe this vehicle still works.”
Lara shook her head. “Too risky. The train is going for an emergency landing. The best bet is defending this position until we’re on the ground and can make a getaway.” She looked to Doug. “Do you have the cube?”
Doug felt an odd lump in his jacket. He didn’t remember pocketing it but figure he must have during the initial commotion. He felt like just chucking it out the hole in the wall. More gunfire snapped him back to the matter at hand. “They’re going to kill everyone if we don’t stop them.”
“Maybe we weren’t the only ones smart enough to ride the train armed,” Lara said. “To be honest, I don’t really see why we should care either way.”
Charlene grabbed his arm and looked him in the eyes. “We need to worry about ourselves right now. We don’t know how many there are or how well they’re armed. Defending this position is the smart thing to do.”
Doug thought he heard more screaming. “How many times did we need help and there was no one there?”
“Yes, Doug. So what do we owe any of these people?”
He didn’t know how to argue with that, but he knew he was right. He pulled off Charlene’s grip. “I’m going.”
“If you’re going to run off and get killed, at least give us the cube,” Lara said.
“Go to hell.” Doug exited the car towards the sound of gunfire. He was back in the car filled with people who had fled from both directions. He glanced back to see if Charlene was following him, but he was alone again. “Everyone go back a car!” he yelled to the people there. “There’s two women there who will keep you safe.” Doug marched forward.
An explosion shook the train and knocked him to the ground. He looked back to see they were ripped apart from Charlene’s car. They were also plummeting quite quickly. He didn’t remember much after that.
NEXT

They Stole My Precious!

People in the Congo are afraid of penis theft… and not just any penis theft. We’re talking magical penis theft. Citizen will go up to the police and say, “A sorcerer stole my penis! Look how tiny it is!”
Now, we’d probably just laugh this off as people in Congo being a bunch of rubes who have never seen the shrinkage episode of Seinfeld and probably just read Harry Potter and the Goblet of Penis Snatching (“Peno Reducto!”), but just the other day I saw at least two diaries at the Daily Kos entitled “Someone stole my penis!!11!! Look how tiny it is!!” I didn’t click on them, though, out of fear they had pictures.
Question: What is the sorcerer Karl Rove doing with the penises he magically stole from the nutroots?

Why Is This Guy Considered a Pundit?

Obama outspent Hillary 3 to 1 in Pennsylvania and still lost big time. The important lesson Kos takes from this: Wow! Look at how much money Obama has! This is great news for the general election!
I’m not thinking we’re going to hear anymore about Kos and the Kwazies after November.