That High Horse Ain't Got No Legs

You know, for a man named Peter, I’m so thrilled that General Pace so closely follows his moral code. I guess he wants to believe he's named after a big saint. I'm more inclined to vote body part.

This week, he felt the need to clarify his homophobic remarks from earlier this year, but really only stirred the hornet’s nest. See, General Pace doesn’t believe that the military should engage in conduct that isn’t “moral.”

By “moral” he means homosexuality and adultery. For the Bible tells him so.

Guess he missed the Moses memo on killing.

Excuse Me, That's MY Money!

So, the President can’t speak properly, but he sure knows how to ask for money. He has now asked the Congress for $190 billion to fund the Iraq war for another year. Let me emphasize that again. He is asking for $190,000,000,000 for ONE FUCKING YEAR of battling a war we shouldn’t be in in the first place. And no one even seems to be swallowing hard.

And what is it again we’re supposed to be getting out of this?

Where’s the fucking outrage people? This is ridiculous that we have become so desensitized to so many zeros. (I guess that happens when you have the biggest ZERO sitting in the Oval Office.)

And where is the Republican outrage? Aren’t they the ones who are always complaining about high taxes? Well how the fuck do you think we’re paying for this war? Bake sales?

Give me a fucking (tax) break. And quit bitching about welfare mothers and social programs. The amount of money we have spent on this war is OBSCENE. We could have rebuilt New Orleans, provided a college education for every child who wanted it, eradicated homelessness, provided healthcare for all and still had enough money to go for ice cream after.

As of July this year, the population of Iraq was 27.5 million (and falling). And the meter is fast approaching 1 TRILLION dollars. Why not just buy them? It would be cheaper.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know there’s a bunch of oil over there and that this is a domino game. But I thought that’s why we sucked so much Saudi dick. So we could have a toe-hold in the region.

Maybe growing up in the Bush household, Little Georgie thought it was okay to ask for a million dollar advance on his allowance. But I think it’s time to cut up his credit card.

Cute Quotes From the Leader of the Free World

So, I’m hoping, hoping, hoping that some commemorative ceramic figurine maker will decide to make these. I want to see a set of cutesy bookends, featuring a Norman Rockwellian vignette of George W. Bush in an old-fashioned classroom setting.

The first would show a concerned, fatherly Bush, surrounded by school kids (maybe with their books upside down—how cute would that be?). He would be scratching his head and looking perplexed—maybe even flummoxed.

The inscription on this collectible would be: Is our children learning?

The other end would be a smiling Bush, flipping one of the children’s books right-side-up, while the other children laughed along. This inscription: Childrens do learn.

I bet there are a lot of trailer-park Christians out there who would snap this up. QVC? FranklinMint? Lladro? Are you listening.

Peoples do buy this shit.

Me? I'm going to throw up now.

"Ow!" Said the Pretty Blonde Girl

Zoomed through an episode of Beauty and the Geek. Hadn't planned on stopping AT ALL. The premise absolutely repulses me. But just as I was about to click away, the pretty blonde girl spoke. She was talking about how hard her challenge had been, because it required thinking and "brain stuff."

Swear to God. She called it "brain stuff." I fell off the fucking bed laughing. Best of all? Straight face. Missy has a WHOLE lot of room upstairs. It's where she keeps her "brain."

Sad to say, but I'll probably come back for more. Besides, Britney's no fun anymore. Y'all.

Rich People Don’t Wear Socks

So, I haven’t hung with the East Coast Elite in many, many years. (Okay, I’ve never hung with them. But I do stalk them from time to time. Sue me.) But I hadn’t noticed before--rich people don’t wear socks. When they are at leisure, they wear “casual attire” (which is pretty much what I call “dressing up,” i.e. long pants and a polo shirt.) They wear cute shoes. AND NO SOCKS.

Now I know what you’re thinking. Why would I, who subscribes to the “barefoot and looks pregnant” school of fashion find it at all remarkable that these conservative types (preppy in the legitimate sense) would go sockless. I live in Austin, for Christ’s sake. Flip flops are our version of dress shoes.

But in a town as buttoned up as D.C. is (guys wear ties in the gym), it just struck me as funny.

Now, I know they can afford socks. So, it must be a “I-don’t-care-if-I-stink-up-my-shoes-I’m-rich-be-otch!” kind of thing. Or maybe that’s their way of showing a little skin. A sexy come hither code that turns other rich people on. Mmmm. Ankles. HOT!

Hey, whatever turns you on. If you put your feet together, those little ankle bone bumps do sort of look like cleavage.

How Come They Make Such Stupid Decisions?

So, I’m in our nation’s capital. I figured I might as well come to the front and check out the Office of Stupid Fuckers first hand. But first, I needed caffeine, so I parked my happy ass at a small, local coffee house (I think it was called “Starbucks” or something like that) and tried to look like I wasn’t from Texas.

The first thing I noticed is that there sure are a lot of smart people here. Seriously, there are more think tanks than Starbucks. Just in the couple of blocks near our hotel, there’s enough brain power to fuel a MENSA outlet mall.

So how is it that the people in power here make such stupid fucking decisions? Then sound so fucking stupid talking about them? Maybe they’re not active listeners.

Say Wot? British Stoner Stupidity

So a Brit feller texts his buddy to see if he “wanted to buy some reefer.” Guess the dealer hadn’t made the cut to new phone. See, the buddy had changed numbers. The old number now belongs to a police officer. Like any good copper, he responded that, yeah, sure, he’d love some. Arranged to meet the guy and busted him. Wah-wah-wah-wah-waaaaaaaaah.

You know, though, it’s probably the best thing that could happen to him. If he’s that retarded in his business and discretion skills, he probably wasn’t going to get the branch manager promotion anyway. Or maybe he just enjoyed dipping into his inventory.

I feel especially bad for the guy because I have a family member (extended) who accidentally texted me a series of oddly (and poorly) coded messages about “playing basketball at midnight.” He also talked about “bringing the girls.” It had long been rumored in our family that he was pimping and dealing on a very small scale. Like so many of his “startups” this one fell by the wayside. Hard to figure out why. I, of course, being the evil bitch that I am, texted him back repeatedly, altering the plan and changing the time. Then I stopped responding altogether. I had to go to bed.

Now, I grew up in the 70’s and 80’s and really, really, truly people, there aren’t any euphemisms left that are subtle enough to escape detection, yet still be understandable. So I kind of laud the guy for just saying, “Dude, want some reefer?” and not beating around the bush.

And I also must confess that I hate texting and culture around it. So I’m secretly glad that he got busted that way.

Someone should develop a national PSA campaign around the slogan, “Stupid People Shouldn’t Deal Drugs.” We could get Ann Coulter to be the spokesperson. That’d scare a stoner.