Posts Tagged ‘Sarah Palin’

The Zoo Story

February 7, 2014
Giraffes are cool.

Giraffes are cool.

Long-range relationships are difficult. As many of you may know, I’m working in San Francisco, while my wife is on our farmette in rural Pennsylvania. The other day we had one of those conversations.

Me: Hi, Honey! I just went to the San Francisco zoo! I saw some penguins there – they are sooooo frickin’ cute! OMGeezers! I just want to pick them up and squeeze the li’l fellers! So how are things on the farm?

Her: It’s 20 degrees out and freezing rain.

Pause.

Her: We have no power.

Me: Oh.

Her: Fritz* pooped in his water bucket. Again. It’s frozen.

Pause.

Me: That’s too bad, Honey.  Did I mention that I hugged a giant hairy anteater?

Her: You’re dead to me.

At times like these I find it’s best to not gloat too much about how cool it is here in San Francisco because I have to sleep sometime and she knows where I live. But I will state for the record that the SF Zoo is a fun place and I enjoyed my visit. (Perhaps not as much as I’d enjoy chipping our car out of the ice in PA, but it was a good time.) You should check it out.

Some birds. Presumably fighting over manflesh.

Some birds. Presumably fighting over manflesh.

So with love and sympathy to my poor wife who is suffering through a terrible ice storm back in Pennsylvania, here are some pictures from my trip to the SF Zoo. I’m flying in tomorrow, Honey! Save some ice for me!

I did not like the way these birds were looking at me.

I did not like the way these ostriches were looking at me.

Generally, you only see two types of folks at the zoo: parents with young children, and teenagers**. The kids are either trying to throw themselves into the alligator pit or are rightly terrified of these creatures. Here’s an actual conversation I overheard between a dad and his young son.

Dad: Timmy, do you see the Mccaw? It’s sleeping!

Kid: Yeah, can we please go before it wakes up?

The lad clearly understands the perils of hurled poo.

Gorillas. Doing gorilla stuff.

Gorillas. Doing gorilla stuff.

Rhinos are cool.

Rhinos are cool.

The teenagers are almost universally jerkfaces. The boys have clearly determined that the best way to impress their girlfriends is to act like huge assholes, and the girls are too busy texting to give a shit.

Teenage Boy: (Pointing at a giant anteater, shouts) It’s a dick! A huge, hair dick! Hey Michelle! Look at the huge hairy dick!”

Michelle: God, Brad, shut up! I’m texting that bitch Rachel.

Teenage Boy: Seriously! Check it out! It’s a huge hair dick! A huge, hairy, anteating dick! Don’t you see it? Hey Michelle…!

As a rule, all teenagers should be eaten by tigers.

This tiger's waiting for the teenagers to be hurled in.

This tiger’s waiting for the teenagers to be hurled in.

Penguins. Cute - and delicious!

Penguins. Cute – and delicious!

Penguins are adorable and ridiculous. Presumably they survive because anything that tries to eat them is likely to bust out laughing when they get close.

Aww! Want!

Aww! Want!

A mama grizzly. Probably Palin.

A mama grizzly. Probably Palin.

The Zoo was a blast, and I recommend that everybody go visit. Rent a small child to take with you if you don’t have one of your own: they really appreciate this stuff and through their eyes you will too.

I also got to see the Pacific Ocean, which looked chilly and very wet. There were crazy dudes with surfboards out there waiting for the big one. I watched to see if they caught a wave or got eaten by a giant squid, but nothing happened.  so after about 30 minutes I left. The whole thing was sandy and anticlimactic. But all in all it was a great day and I wish my wife had been here to share it.

Tomorrow I’m off to Pennsylvania to help chip ice and yell at the power company. That should be fun too!

“Hey, Honey! That icicle looks like a  huge dick, doesn’t it? Hey!”

_______________________________________

*Fritz the horse. Who did you think it was?

**And rarely, creepy old dudes with cameras.

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Middle of the Road

September 17, 2010

So earlier this week I let some strange dude named “Dr. Kumar” cut on me and yank an alleged hematoma out of my torso. However, they didn’t let me see it before they sent it off to the lab. (What were they hiding, one must wonder. Perhaps it was an alien eyeball and they feared for my sanity. Hah. The fools! It’s far too late for that to be an issue.)

The process was mostly painless and hardly resembled a scene out of Saw III. I was fully conscious during the procedure and the most disconcerting part was the smell. Doctor Kumar was using some Dremmel-like device which cauterized as it cut. Mmmm, bacon!

Since that time I’ve been chomping down antibiotics and the occasional Darvon. I took one day off after the experience, but now I’m back at work full-time. I’m told I can’t do any lifting for a week, and my wife won’t let me use the riding mower. And experience has told me that it’s No Fun when a puppy launches its cute little head directly at the wounded era at like a zillion miles per hour. But other than that, things are going pretty good. I should be in fine form by Sunday, when we’re going to the York Fair to try to find people to sell us their chickens.

In opposition to Jon Stewart's "Rally to Restore Sanity," sinister pundit Stephen Colbert will be holding a "March to Keep Fear Alive" on the same day.

Viva Stewart! Viva La Non-Revolucion!

On other matters, did you happen to see The Daily Show on Thursday night? Mr. Jon Stewart announced his “Rally to Restore Sanity,” kind of an anti-Beck and Palin call to moderateness scheduled to occur on the Washington DC mall on Saturday, October 30, 2010, a date, as Stewart puts it, “of no significance whatsoever.”

The purpose is to encourage intelligent debate and polite discussion over America’s issues, to counteract the shouters and fear-mongers on both extremes. My wife and I are totally going. We’ve been discussing what kind of signage to carry. Here are some contenders:

“I’m pretty sure that President Obama is an American citizen. They check those things.”

“Perhaps Mr. Beck should get back on his medication.”

“Seriously. If you read the legislation, there’s no mention of death panels in it anywhere.”

“Maybe you’re correct. Let’s discuss this using our indoors voices.”

“While I’m sure she’s a fine person in many ways, Sarah Palin may not be the wisest choice for President of the United States.”

“Lacking a uterus, I have no useful opinion on abortion.”

“Why should I have to fake an illness to legally smoke a joint in the 21st century? I mean, seriously.”

So what do you think? Is this some totally radical moderateness, or what? Let me know if you’re going to show up for this wonderful event; maybe we’ll meet in DC somewhere ahead of time and eat sushi.

Stewart's rally will be just like Woodstock, except with older, pudgier people, a better grade of brown acid and probably a lot less free sex and nudity (which, given the participants, may not be a totally bad thing).

Well, Crap

August 29, 2010

It’s late Sunday night. I was gonna write a humorous blog on painting the chicken coop and doing plumbing repair and cunningly tying it into the Saturday Glenn Beck/Sarah Palin “I have a Scheme” rally. I’ve been working for a few hours and it’s just not funny. Or interesting. Or insightful. It’s just flat, and I’m not gonna publish it.

See, one of our dogs (Tats) is going to the vet’s tomorrow morning to determine if he has a lethal disease or not. I hope he doesn’t, but he probably does. If so, he’s done. Yesterday he was fine, today he’s got symptoms, and tomorrow he may be gone.

Anyway, I’m just not feeling the funny tonight. Sorry.

Here’s a recommendation: be nice to the people and critters you love, because bad things sometimes happen with not so much warning.

P.S. The chicken coop is pretty much done. I’ll be putting in the chicken run over the next week, and then we just need the chickens. Hopefully I won’t come to love any of them feathery bastards.

Never grow too attached to food products.

Intelligent Americans, Please Refudiate!

August 22, 2010

I spent all day Saturday shoveling out the stalls of my wife’s three horses. This was extra challenging this week: it had rained quite a bit the past few days, which meant that the horses had spent more time in their stalls, and thus more poop had piled up (and I do mean “piled up”). Also my wife is recovering from bronchitis and I forced her pretty much at gunpoint to leave the entire task to me, a manly and heroic gesture which I came to deeply regret over the next seven smelly hours.

It's extremely important to limber up before saying something outrageously stupid (or you might pull a hammy!).

There’s nothing especially challenging about shifting horse excrement, and the task requires at most a small fraction of my amazing brain’s attention, letting me brood on diverse topics. On Saturday I mostly brooded on Sarah Palin. So what the hell is up with Sarah Palin? Is she a stupid, mean-spirited opportunistic dirtbag, or just plain stupid?

Like for instance, the other day Ms. Palin was railing against the planned Muslim mosque in downtown Manhattan. This in itself isn’t unusual: she and her Fox “News” buddies often bitch about the mosque. But this particular comment was aggressively ridiculous even for Palin: “There are 100 mosques in New York,” she snarled. “If the purpose of this mosque is, as we are led to believe, to create this tolerant environment, to ensure that something like 9/11 from repeating, why we have to ask didn’t any of these 100 mosques already accomplish this?”

Gosh. Interesting question. Now here’s one for you, Ms. Palin:

There are tens of thousands of Christian churches in the United States. If their purpose is, as we are led to believe, to promote understanding, and love for fellow men among their congregants, why we have to ask, are some Christians still such goddamned xenophobic bigots?

Now if this is just the stupid blathering of an ignorant, small-minded woman getting far more attention than she warrants, I can forgive her. Hell, I’ve probably made stupid statements myself. (I can’t think of any at the moment, but I’ll ask my wife.) However, if Palin is smarter than she looks and is simply using this controversy to promote her own agenda, then I kinda hope she drowns in a sea of fermenting horse wee.

And what can you make of this little nugget? As I’m sure you’re aware, radio personality and general whackadoo “Dr. Laura” Schlessinger went postal on her radio show and started yelling “Niblets! Niblets! Niblets!” at her caller, an African American woman asking for advice about racist statements made by her white husband’s friends. (Note: Laura didn’t actually say “niblets.”) When word of this got out, a number of Dr. Laura’s sponsors very wisely dropped her show like a bucket of hot spittle. Poor persecuted Dr. Laura then announced her retirement, saying that she wanted her “First Amendment rights back.” This  is an idiotic statement in itself − Schlessinger totally has the right to say anything she wants, just as others have the right to refuse to use her sponsors’ products. But that’s not the point here.

"Niblets! Niblets! Niblets! If the Green Giant can say, 'Niblets,' why can't white people?"

What did conservative leader Sarah Palin have to say about this? She tweeted to Dr. Laura: “Don’t retire, reload!”

So this is Palin’s response to a racially-charged situation in which a prominent white radio jock insults an African American listener: “reload”? Excellent work, Sarah. I’m sure that’ll do wonders for relations between blacks and whites in this country. Hell, I suppose we should be grateful she didn’t say, “Don’t linger, lynch her!”

So why exactly haven’t other conservative pundits “refudiated” her? Maybe because so many of them are too busy mouthing the same kind of crapola. Thanks, Fox “News” for giving them such a prominent platform!

Anyway, this nonsense kept my brain totally occupied, and Saturday just flew by. I’m proud to say that while Palin and her cohorts are still full of shit, our barn isn’t. At least she’s good for that much.

A Delicate Question

June 4, 2010

I was perusing some web sites the other day, looking for something to get irritated about, when I came across this little tidbit on the good old Huffington Post (“The Website for the Sincere but Lazy American Liberal”): Sarah Palin Blames Environmentalists for Gulf Oil Disaster. Right away I could feel my blood pressure rising like a startled cormorant not yet covered in toxic petrochemicals, so I eagerly read on − and I gotta tell you, it was like I hit the frickin’ motherlode!

It seems that on a recent Facebook note, Mrs. Palin pointed out that since they banned drilling in easier locations like ANWR (Arctic National Wildlife Refuge), the naughty eco-nuts forced companies like BP to drill in more difficult places, like deep water, so they’re really to blame that something went wrong in the Gulf. QED Baby, QED!

President Palin. Really?

Wow.

So I’m not even going to get into the insane illogicality of Palin’s deeply stupid comment. I mean it’s like blaming the safe manufacturer if a bank-robber kills people while trying to blow up a tough bank vault. But as I said I’m not going to touch that. It’ just too damned easy. Clearly the woman’s a total doofus*.

But it does bring up one question: Why do so many Republicans want to elect another hapless fool to the Presidency? Palin is one of the front-runners of potential Republican candidates in the 2012 presidential election. Clearly a shitload of conservative people want her running the country. You’d think that the previous administration would have taught them the folly of putting Mr. Potato Head’s dumber younger brother in charge, but no. It’s like the entire George “Dubya” Bush administration never happened.

Mrs. Palin visits her constituency. (If this is Photoshopped, it's pretty good. I pray that it's real.)

I’ve heard the standard explanation − “I want to elect somebody I’d want to have a beer with. Somebody like me.” − and frankly, it’s idiotic. Hell, I’m a pretty fun guy with a couple of drinks in me, but Jesus, nobody with an ounce of sense would ever put me in charge of a 7-11, let alone the Executive Branch of the United States of America. I mean just because I can belch the entire Gettysburg Address on one Guinness Stout doesn’t mean I should have my finger on the Big Button, does it?

I just don’t get it. There must be plenty of solid, intelligent Republican men and women who could probably do a pretty good job running the country if elected, right? Why not pick one of them? Why go for a total froot loop like Palin?

It turns out that this image IS Photoshopped. Pity. Good job, though.

Admittedly, as a Democrat, I sorta hope that Palin is the Republican candidate, since I think that would virtually assure Obama’s re-election, but there’s always that one-in-a-zillion chance that Palin might just win, and then we’d be totally screwed. It’s just not worth it.

So Republican dudes, listen up: If you insist on voting for somebody you’d want to have a beer with, do us all a favor and make it “Norm” from Cheers, willya? Sure, Normie may be an alcholic and a fictional character, but at least he’s not a frickin’ moron.

 

 

______________

*In a recent tweet Palin warned the people of Louisiana not to trust BP† because they were a foreign company, unlike, I suppose, the deeply trustworthy American company Exxon.

†Palin has apparently forgotten that her husband worked for BP for some 18 years.

A Modest Proposal

June 2, 2010

Like many of you, I’ve been brooding about this whole BP “Oops we killed the Gulf of Mexico” thing, trying to figure out what should be done about it. I was betting on the super-cool diamond-saw-wielding robots to do the job, and now that they’ve failed, I’m pretty flummoxed.

Heidi Klum - another tragic victim of the BP oil spill.

But, after some consideration I’ve come up with a backup plan that is almost certainly foolproof – Japanese Yakuza Ninja Assassins. I know it sounds crazy, but hear me out. You know, I assume, that the Yakuza are the Japanese mob? They’re those fanatically loyal psychos who do whatever is necessary to accomplish their tasks, primarily because if they fail they have to chop off one of their finger joints. So here’s my thinking. Suppose we hired the Yakuza to chop off one of the BP CEO’s finger joints every week that passes until the leak is plugged. Wouldn’t that be excellent? Wouldn’t that just motivate the living shit out of Mr. Hayward and his company?

If we want to do this, I recommend that we do it quickly, before BP’s huge-ass lobbying effort has time to further corrupt our beloved leaders in Washington, DC. Frankly I think we should lop off a finger-joint of every politician who has taken a campaign donation from those clowns, but we’d probably run out of Yakuza.

P.S. Maybe it’s time the US government developed the technology and expertise to plug huge gaping oil leaks in the ocean floor when oil companies screw up? I’m just saying is all.

Yes, I Almost Died.

It’s true. On Memorial Day, my wife and I took a jaunt into Northern Maryland in my beloved Honda Accord, returning after a bumpy hundred-mile journey to discover that my front right passenger tire was missing some three out of five lug nuts – the posts were totally sheared off. The mechanic could offer no good reason why this happened, but he was rather impressed that the wheel hadn’t come off during the journey. (Thanks, Honda!)

I suspect foul play.

Clearly, my fearless blogging has irritated someone to the point where they’ve decided to silence me. I’m thinking it’s probably Joe Lieberman or Sarah Palin. Though come to think of it, if Palin wanted me dead she’d probably just chew my face off or shoot me from a helicopter; this kind of cowardly backstabbing attack is way more Lieberman’s style.

Well, kiss my ass, Joe. It didn’t work! And remember: if anything happens to me, that picture of you and the country ham in the Motel 6 goes straight to the Huffington Post!

And Justice Faux All

April 3, 2010

This has been kind of a tough Saturday. As my tens of fans know, I’ve been removing the downed trees in my back yard, and I spent much of today taking off mid-sized branches with my trusty rip saw. The rip saw is an AK-47-sized power tool to which I attach a nasty 9-inch-long blade and whack away at anything within reach. This is fun, in a Texas Chainsaw Massacre-esque kind of way, but it’s also quite exhausting.

And when I’m tired and sweaty, there’s nothing I like better than going out to a nightclub to enjoy some restful faux-lesbian simulated bondage action. And I’m not the only one, either.

Does this man deserve to be fired -- or does he just need a good spanking?

According to a story broken by The Daily Caller,  a website nobody had ever heard of before this story, a number of Republican National Committee Chairman Michael Steele’s assistants recently took some frisky donors out to a club named “Voyeur West Hollywood,” which, as stated above, features hot, yet tasteful faux-lesbian simulated bondage action. The partiers foolishly paid their nearly $2,000 tab using an official RNC credit card, which is how they got caught. (Guys from smarter political parties always pay cash at strip clubs and submit fake dry cleaning receipts for reimbursement.)

Voyeur Hollywood West. Hooters this ain't.

Now despite what you’re thinking, this is no lowdown dive, as might be frequented by Libertarians or, God forbid, Democrats. No sir. Voyeur West Hollywood is an exclusive and tasteful gentlemen’s club that caters to all of its upscale customers’ needs. Check out what their web site has to say about their menu:

VOYEUR’s signature cocktail menu includes sugar–free, all organic creations including watermelon jalapeno, blueberry mint and cucumber olive shots. Guests will enjoy simple, small-bite hors d’oeuvres from Chef Micah Wexler (formerly from Craft), including smoked salmon and cucumber tea sandwiches, prime beef sliders and a signature crispy shrimp cocktail.

Wow. Watermelon jalapeno, blueberry mint and cucumber shots that are organic and sugar-free, plus topless women spanking each other: I mean, what could be more Republican?

Strangely, this has caused a certain kerfuffle among the conservative elite. The staffer who held the fundraising party at the club has been fired, and my friends Rick Santorum and Carl Rove have been bellowing loudly for Steele’s keister in hot, faux outrage. I’m not sure exactly why. (Maybe because they weren’t invited to the party?)

Sarah Palin has nothing to do with this story, but we think she looks really hot in that leather jacket. Maybe that's what got the RNC staffers all excited.

Frankly, I don’t see what all the fuss is about. This is America, after all, the land of the free, and if two women want to simulate making out on a West Hollywood nightclub stage in front of a bunch of drunken slathering Republican staffers and donors, what’s wrong with that?

Just as long as they don’t simulate getting married, I mean. Because that would be just twisted.

Batteries Not Included

November 6, 2009

I want to assure you that I do not plan to pose nude, no matter how much they offer me. I know that many of you view me as a role model and I will not cheapen myself in your eyes for mere lucre. That being said, I’m totally okay with Levi Johnston displaying his qualifications for higher office in Playgirl if he so chooses. That poor bastard had to spend like a year pretending he was looking forward to having Sarah Palin for a mother-in-law; he deserves something for his pain and anguish.

Bristol Palin Levi Johnston
Levi Johnston and Bristol Palin on a three-state killing spree in happier times.

In other signs of the Apocalypse, I was shocked to learn that the Vermont Country Store is now selling what they coyly call “Intimate Solutions,” some of which are very naughty and require AA batteries. Now I’m no prude, and I think that whatever a person does in the privacy of his or her home (or on the Internet) is their own business. But that the stuff is for sale in the Vermont Country Store is just plain disturbing. I used to go there all the time as a kid during summer vacation. Back then the place was a dusty old dump which sold penny candy, flannel nightgowns, maple syrup, and soap which smelled like my grandma. Speaking of whom, I’m pretty sure her brain would have exploded if she’d run across any “intimate solutions” while searching for potholders.

Clearly the world has changed since my youth. Some things, however, have stayed the same. For instance, last Tuesday the people of the Great State of Maine heroically decided to continue to deny basic civil rights to gay people, repealing the law allowing same-sex marriage that the Maine legislature passed some six months ago. Way to go, voters of Maine! Thanks for protecting our children from the insidious gay agenda to get spousal healthcare and the right to visit each other in the hospital!

Still, all in all, it’s great to live in a country when men are allowed to pose naked in major magazines and where people can buy intimate power tools along with their long underwear and licorice whips. (Unless other men look at the naked man’s pictures, of course, or two people of the same sex use the power tools together. Because that just creeps us out.)