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|Sunday, November 17th, 2013|
|The Carolina Reaper
You know I like to reserve Sundays for the Lord. Firstly, because it's kind of traditional. Secondly, some of you believe in God rather than the real Holy Trinity, Wonder Woman, Catwoman and Batgirl and I don't want you to feel left out just because you chose to have faith in the dumbest imaginary being that ever didn't exist. Catering to and including you misfits is part of the price I pay for being a Liberal. Thirdly, it's a nice change of pace.
Monday through Saturday, my job is make you aware of things you should be aware of that are usually not pleasant. There are exceptions but it's usually an endless stream of weather disasters, human rights violations and assorted shootings. So it's nice to just kick back on Sundays and tell you things like the latest feel good stories about lightning striking churches and ministers who got shot to death while giving sermons and the most recent ways Atheists have humiliated believers with simple old fashioned common sense.
But not this week. Today, Sunday, November 17, 2013, I am going to ignore both the usual heap of bad news and the latest evidence of how religion is finally dying and go in an entirely different direction. Food. Hot, spicy food, to be exact. And to be even more precise than that, the new Hottest Pepper In The World. Groove on this, babies:
The Carolina Reaper was officially declared the Worlds Hottest Pepper this Thursday, November 14th, 2013. FINALLY. It's been a long time coming.
The Carolina Reaper tested at an AVERAGE Scoville Heat Units of 1,569,000 and had a High Testing of 2.2 Million SHU.....easily beating all previous Champions. YEA!!!! Thanks Guinness and thanks Ed Currie.http://www.pepperjoe.com/shoppingcart/html/pepper.html
Now, the next time you whip up a batch of my personal favorite hot and spicy treat, Jalapeño Poppers, you can also make a platter of Carolina Reaper Poppers and have fun daring people to eat them. But that's just the tip of the Volcano. There are literally a billion and one things you can do with these new super peppers and I'm sure most of them will be delicious.
In short, from this moment on, your Nachos will never be the same. Well, I know July is going to be here before you know it, and that means you're going to have start growing them right now and concocting new recipes so by the time the County Fair gets here, you'll be all set to win the Blue Ribbon for the Best Carolina Reaper Salsa and Carolina Reaper Hot Sauce and Carolina Reaper Barbecue Sauce. So I'll let you get to it. Bon Appétit! Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Red State Update: Episode 40: This Ain't My First Racist Ro
|Saturday, November 16th, 2013|
|Don't Sext At A Wake
Some entries read like Emily Post channeling the Grim Reaper: "If you’re attending a funeral, the best piece of advice I can give you is this: Turn your phone off," "A family funeral is not a great second date" or "Don't expect the funeral home staff to let you in on the family dirt. We will not be the source for #NOTTHEBABYDADDY on your Twitter feed."
Not to pat myself on the back or anything, but this post, the core theme of which is death, is intentionally late. See what I did there? My normal, very strict and rigid, deadline is sometime between 9 AM and 3 PM, but this one, which is mostly about death, is more than two hours late. On purpose. For dramatic effect. Inventing clever, witty literary devices like this is for most writers a once in a lifetime event that propels them to super-stardom by wowing the world by collecting Nobel's and Pulitzer's the same way Dyson's (http://www.dyson.com/
) suck up Oreo crumbs and it's great for them for a few months but then they realize they can never again achieve that kind of greatness and sink even further into a suicidal, self-destructive cloud of self-loathing and alcoholism.
For me, it's completely different. I come up with ideas like that all the time. And I need another Nobel or Pulitzer the same way I need another Republican Congress, so I don't care about them. You don't even have to give me another Humblest Writer Of The Year award because like duh, I already know I'm humble. That's not to say I didn't do it for greater wealth, fame, power and recognition, because you could look at it that way. If you're really cynical. This was a coldly calculated shrewd business decision designed to do one thing: To finally give me the title I have wanted for more than 30 years, Svengoolie's (http://svengoolie.com/
) Head Writer. Now, Sven has no choice but to offer me the job.
Sven probably won't even stop at begging me to be his head writer. He'll probably also beg me to be his Executive Producer. And you know who the first guest I'm going to book is going to be? SPOILER ALERT! It's going to be Caleb Wilde. Because anyone who Tweets, "A family funeral is not a great second date," has more than earned the right to have his fifteen minutes of fame on the Svengoolie show.
I may even make him a regular. I don't know, we'll see how it goes. If you're a purist, though, I want to assure you that I won't make any changes that are going to give you ulcers and keep you awake at night. I have a tremendous amount of respect for tradition and I'm not going to do anything to turn your world upside down. I am going to steadily improve the show without ruining it.
Do you remember The Golddiggers (http://www.originalgolddiggers.com/deanmartin.shtml
)? You do, don't you? And you still love them, don't you? And that's why you're also gonna love The Gravediggers, Sven's own personal squad of lovely dancers/gravediggers. Of course, they're a little better at dancing than they are at digging graves which will result in many sight gag driven routines when it comes time to bury The Corpse Of The Week.
Well, I could go on and on all night about all the great things I'm going to do for your favorite horror show and I could go even more on and on about what the Gravediggers are going to do for me before and after every taping but I don't want to spoil any of the surprises. Besides that, Sven is going to call me any minute now and start begging and I want to be free to take that call. So I'll leave you with a hearty and sincere, Thank ya for reading, remember to rate and review and an even more hearty, "So Long, Screwy! See You In Saint Louis! Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Red State Update: Episode 40: This Ain't My First Racist Ro
|Friday, November 15th, 2013|
|It's Friday, You Bastards
I listened to Glenn Beck (Pythius The Rotten, if you want to use his Royal title and if you wish to financially support him even more than you already are, via tax breaks for the needy filthy rich, you can find out how here: http://www.glennbeck.com/
) interview Brad Meltzer (http://bradmeltzer.com/
) this morning and it was a good interview. I'll even go so far as to say it was very good. And interesting.
After the shockingly good interview, Glenn and his minions went back to talking about politics, religion and economics and, well, if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all, so I'll stay quiet about that and just make the most of the teachable moment that preceded it. What it boils down to is this: Jesus, just like the NSA and Santa, is always watching and listening to everything you do and you have to use His voyeurism fetish to your advantage.
Because Heaven works just like Las Vegas. Everyone is welcome but not everyone is going to be treated the same. If you spend your entire life doing ordinary good things such as being kind to children, old people, animals and the handicapped while doing your level best to cause as little harm to everyone else, well, that's great but it's pretty ordinary. It's just like playing the nickel slots.
And it will be rewarded. When you get to Heaven, you'll get a clean, comfortable and mostly quiet room in a decent motel with color TV and a few cable channels and on the first of every month, like clockwork, your bank account will be credited with your Eternal Pension---It works a lot like Social Security, it's based on what you earned while you were alive and in your case, having been a life long nickel slot player, it's $2041.666 per month (Which works out to be $24,500/Year).
That might sound a little low to you but remember, your room is being comped and the prices for everything else are quite like what they were in the 1970's. You can find 99 cent Shrimp Cocktails and $3.99 All You Can Eat Buffets and $1.99 16 oz. Sirloin And Three Egg Breakfast's everywhere, 24 hours a day. Cigarettes are 48 cents a pack. You can buy a really nice expensive car for $12,000 or an ordinary car for around $7000 (They also keep promising that soon we'll have a flying car that everyone can afford but you know, it'll never get here because some things just don't change, even after you die) and gas is 73 Cents a gallon (For you Heathens who use the Metric System, one gallon is 3.78541 Liters). Of course, you can go all out and buy things like a brand new 1978 Porsche 911 Turbo for $55,000 if you want, too, because they are readily available. There are no healthcare or insurance expenses because just like your room, good health and being free of all calamities are also comped. You can still buy life insurance but it's only for the extremely paranoid because you have eternal life now.
I could go on but you get the idea. You will never starve or be homeless. There are endless things to see and do that will keep you amused for all eternity and you can afford a good deal of them. If you can be really frugal for a couple of thousand years and manage your portfolio wisely, you'll even be a billionaire. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal that you'll be pretty happy with.
That is until you start looking at people like me, the High Holy Rollers. With our High Holy Roller Suites that include things like bowling alleys and full size basketball courts and hot tubs that will comfortably seat the entire Dallas Cowgirls squad and the beds that will comfortably sleep all the Dallas Cowgirls and me. The same Suites that are available to you, when they are available, for 20 to 30 thousand dollars a night, if you can afford them and we get them for free.
Then you'll notice that the entire hotel staff acts like we are God Himself and caters to our every whim while they are only polite to you. Then, to add insult to your injury, you might strike up a conversation with one of us and we'll tell you about all the free stuff, cars, houses, vacations, jets, boats, gourmet meals, etc etc etc we get even though we really don't need them for free because our Eternal Pension is ten million dollars a month. And we'll generally end the conversation with something like this, "I'd love to sit here and chat with you all day but Dennis (http://www.bunnyranch.com/
) wants me to try out five of his new girls for free, so I have to get to Carson City."
That likely won't set well with you because when you go to the Bunny Ranch, five girls costs you $500/Hour (Remember, most things here, including the services provided by the Bunny Ranch, are at 1970's prices) and you'll get to thinking that it isn't fair. And even if the Bunny Ranch isn't your thing, you'll still wonder why I get things like tickets to see Frank, Dean and Sammy in the main showroom for free along with an invitation to the after show party when they cost you $25 and all you get besides the concert is the honor of having to buy the two drink minimum.
That is the time, my friend, to remember that when Jesus said, "Turn the other cheek," He wasn't talking just to hear Himself talk. And you had the same opportunity to say something nice about Glenn Beck that I had and you declined. Being kind to the less fortunate is all well and good and it will be rewarded but if you want to be a High Holy Roller and get the really good rewards, you have to be more like me and start playing the hundred dollar machines. When you get a chance to complement a completely despicable wretch of a human being, you must seize the moment and fight back the disgust and nausea and just do it.
Or you can try to live well on $2041.666 per month for all eternity while watching people like me get things like free Porsche's that cost more than two years of your salary, even though they would cost us less than half a days pay, if we had to pay for them. It's all about Free Will and the choice is yours. Pick whatever Afterlife you want. I've done all I can. I can lead you to the complementary Cristal being served by the complementary super models in the complementary stretch Hummer that's waiting to take you to the complementary Beatles concert at Madison Square Garden with special guest, Jimi Hendrix but I can't make you drink it.
I can't even make you drink the Theme Drink that Fifi, my Sommelier, invented for tonight. All I can do is let her bring it out and just let nature take its' course:
1 shot Bacardi 151 proof rum
1 shot Everclear, 190 proof
3/4 shot Triple sec
3/4 shot Amaretto
1 Orange wedge
Combine all into a tall glass or wine goblet. Add the Cola last. Hang orange on rim of glass. Tastes good but is super strong.
STOP! Hold everything. We interrupt this regularly scheduled edition of It's Friday, You Bastards for some breaking news. I've just been handed a bulletin. Randi Rhodes (http://www.randirhodes.com/main.html
) has just renewed her contract for next year. Actually, I was listening to my computer/radio but "I've just been handed a bulletin," sounds so much more official and important that I use it instead.
Anyway, I see there is a story on it already and you can read all about it: Premiere Decides to Keep Progressive Talker Randi Rhodes on Air After All: http://www.bradblog.com/?p=10375.
Is that awesome or what? I wonder if Rachel (http://www.rachelmaddow.com/
) will make it today's Best Thing Ever. I think she might but even if she doesn't, we still all know it is the Best Thing Ever.
This calls for another drink. It's such a huge relief. We get another election with Randi! I think she will be with us in 2016, too. Well, I won't live that long but you will and that's just as good. And this further proves my point that if you live right and do all the right things, you will be handsomely rewarded.
Why don't we celebrate by playing tonight's Featured Party Game: Binders Full Of Girls Dressed Like The Victoria's Secret Angels. This game is awesome. Because the girls are 100% free. Well, they are, if you're like me. If you're like you, they will charge you $3000/Hour. Oh, cheer up, you can talk to them for free. But if you want to spend any quality time with them, you'll have to come up with the $3000/Hour. And, after you die, the price drops to $500/Hour, so you have that to look forward to.
See? You should have listened to me when you had the chance. When will you ever learn? But don't worry about that, now. No use crying over spilled milk that's already flowed under the bridge. So make the best of it by talking to the girls in lingerie for free and listening to Randi and don't get jealous when I take the Angels upstairs, five or six of them at a time. Class warfare is so gauche. Just have a good time and remember you did this to yourself. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Coast To Coast AM---George Noory, WOC AM 1420
|Thursday, November 14th, 2013|
|A Call From An Old Friend
I got kind of a surprising phone call last night from an old friend who lives up north, The Right Honorable Prime Minister of Canada (Or Premier ministre du Canada, if you live in Quebec, Paris---France or Texas---or New Orleans), Steve. It was surprising because he never calls me. I see him quite a bit, usually when I have to go to Ottawa or Moscow (The one in Russia, not the one in Iowa) because the Russians have made another aggressive move into disputed Arctic regions and sometimes I run into him at the odd G8 or G20 Summit, sometimes Canada hosts a World's Fair or the Olympics and we'll work together on it and occasionally, I just want Timbits®, so I just drop in and say, "Steve, let's go to Tim Hortons (http://www.timhortons.com/
If you work for the IRS or the CRA (Canada Revenue Agency), remember, that was another completely uncompensated plug because I do this for fun, not profit. Oh, for you people who are reading me for the first time, I guess I should explain that I'm a greeting cards salesman. That's why I spend so much time in places like Ottawa and Moscow (Usually the one in Russia except when the corn farmers are threatening to take over the world and I have to go to Iowa), hanging out with people like Steve and preventing World War III. By selling greeting cards. You're welcome.
So, naturally, I assumed when Steve called last night, which he hardly ever does, that it was about something that had slipped past NORAD and I'd have to go clear all the Russian soldiers out of his house again but no, it was nothing like that. When I said, "Just relax, Steve. Follow the usual routine. Keep serving vodka and tell them whatever they want to hear and I'll be there in forty-five minutes. Maybe less if I catch the lights right. Did they capture Shania Twain again? I sure hope so, cause I love debriefing her," he said, "No. The Russians haven't invaded again. And before you ask, the answer is no, Ms Twain does not want to be debriefed, anyway. And for the millionth time, you are not the one who inspired her to record 'You're Still The One."
So I then assumed, naturally, that he just wanted to go to Tim Hortons and I said, "Sure. Just give me forty-five minutes. Unless I catch the lights right." Then he said, no, he did not want to go to Tim Hortons. Then he told me to shut up and listen because he wanted to offer me a job, which he then proceeded to tell me about.
When he finally finished, I said, "Did I hear you right? You want me to quit my job and move to Toronto so I can be the mayor?"
He said, "No. NO. GOD NO! You have completely misunderstood again. No one wants you to relocate to Canada. No one even wants you to visit Canada. In fact, if you were to move here, my advisers tell me that there would be a major revolt within 72 hours."
I asked him if I could quote him as saying all Canadians are revolting or if he would rather leave that off the record. That's when he told me to shut up and listen, again. Like I didn't hear him the first time. He then went on, "I want you to be the Mayor Of Toronto because Rob Ford has to go and you are the perfect compromise. Your loony Left Wing agenda will please the inner city Liberals while your love of cheap wine, beer and the way you treat women as chattel as well as your otherwise boorish but illegal drug free behavior will keep the blue collar workers happy. Neither side will be perfectly happy but they can both live with you. As long as you don't live in Canada. I can't stress that enough, so let me repeat, AS LONG AS YOU DON"T LIVE IN CANADA! You are to stay in your current residence...May God one day have mercy on Illinois but until then, better them than us...and you will conduct any business that needs conducting via the telephone or Internet."
Before I go any further, I want to take a minute to thank the late great Billy Carter for teaching me everything I ever needed to know about politics, because I just don't do that often enough and then I want to tell you that the next thing I did was to tell Steve that I was honored to be his first choice and how he cut me off with, "You were not my first choice, you cretin! Bob Filner and Marion Barry were my first two choices but they were both busy so I am stuck with you! Now, will you take the job or not?"
I told him I would have to respectfully decline because running a big city is a time consuming job and I'm always busy selling greeting cards and writing hit novels, movies and TV shows in my spare time and then Tuesdays are crazy because that's my bowling night and on top of that, I have to keep writing reviews to maintain my status as The Most Respected Critic In The Criticizing Business.
That's when he started threatening me with, "We know you cheat on your taxes. We ignore it as a professional courtesy but like all courtesies, it can be withdrawn."
I told him that was fine and the next time Boris and Ivan are in his living room trying to decide whether to send him to Siberia or one of their brand new Gulags in the Yukon, I would be busy talking to my accountants so he should call someone else and magically, the tax problem just went away again.
And sure, I feel a little bad about having to deprive Toronto of all my mad governing skillz but I'm sure they'll eventually find someone almost as good as me. What I feel good about is that I am able to present Steve's disappointment as a valuable lesson for all you kids out there and I sincerely hope that if you only learn one thing today, it's that you should never ever use the Prime Minister Of Canada as a reference because he is rude, crude, bullying and he has a very distorted view of reality.
In the first place, I do not cheat on my taxes. I thought we established that when I told him, "I do not cheat on taxes," but no, Steve still didn't get it. In the second place, Canada would be thrilled if I lived there. And I don't treat women as chattel and I if anyone on my staff says otherwise, I will put her up for sale faster than you can say, "eBay!" I could correct all the other things he got wrong but we can find something better to do. Do you want to go to Tim Hortons? I don't know why but they keep sending me gift cards. Maybe it's my birthday or something. Anyway, let's go and I'll buy you a million dollars worth of donuts and I can apologize to Toronto in person for not being able to help them. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Red State Update: Episode 40: This Ain't My First Racist Ro
|Wednesday, November 13th, 2013|
According to the Rape Abuse & Incest National Network (RAINN, http://www.rainn.org/statistics
), someone in the US is sexually assaulted every two minutes and I don't want to make light of that. I really don't. Rape and sexual assault are real and serious problems and we should do everything we can to prevent them but at the same time, we need to stop letting really crazy people "Help" by making the problem worse. It's that last part that we're failing most miserably at.
We have become a society wherein everyone is either a predator or a victim and the winners are the rapists. Don't believe me? OK, read this: Kids Caught Playing 'Rape Tag' at School (http://www.newser.com/story/138902/kids-caught-playing-rape-tag-at-school.html
). That's what happens when you call absolutely everything that happens a rape or an assault and put people on Sexual Offender Lists for doing nothing more than peeing in an alley. It's just like when we suspend kids from school for taking Midol (Students Suspended for Carrying Midol®, Advil®: http://ndsn.org/nov96/midol.html
) and they conclude they might as well smoke Crack. Kids look at all that and see it for the lunacy that it is and turn it into a game. Which is bad enough with drugs but it's even worse with rape. Because, if they do actually get raped or assaulted, they still have it set in their minds that the whole thing is just a big farce that people only pretend to take seriously.
And when they see a girl going to jail for having sex with her girlfriend (Florida Teen Stays in Jail for Having Sex With Her Girlfriend: http://www.truthdig.com/eartotheground/item/florida_teen_stays_in_jail_for_having_sex_with_her_girlfriend_20131004
), it gets even worse. If you can go to jail for not doing anything wrong, what incentive is there for people with criminal inclinations to refrain from them? So, really, what we have to do is take crazy paranoid homophobic religious people (Who are usually all rolled up into the same people) out of the equation entirely. And yet, that's something we never do.
I never stop marveling at the amount of power and influence we keep giving to crazy people and the high price we keep paying for it. But since none of that is ever gonna change, we might as well forget all the misery it causes and just have some fun with all the lunacy that's being thrust upon us. To wit, have you heard about Rape Proof Underpants (http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/ar-wear-confidence-protection-that-can-be-worn
I found out about them from The Young Turks and I'll show that video at the end but first I want add a few comments to the argument that Cenk, Ana and Ben didn't bring up. They all made good points but I think Ben was the most right because he said it's a scam of some kind. But he didn't go far enough.
If you go to the AR Wear web site and watch the video and read the information they have there, you get the overwhelming feeling that it was written by someone who is one step above the guys who keep telling a you that a rich Nigerian Prince died and you've been chosen to launder his money in order to protect it from Nigerian taxes and you get to keep 20% for your trouble.
I'm seeing fundamentalist religious Abstinence Only groups written all this and if you check, I bet you find a major evangelist of some kind behind it. Possibly the Mormon Church, because this seems like just a high tech update of the Magic Underwear they've always had. In the first place, as a protection device, it's completely worthless (Just like religion). It doesn't use a key but a touch type of combination lock that must be, by design, easy to crack unless they want to risk all kinds of lawsuits from these things injuring people (Not just women cause the web site says they will protect men, too).
Think about it. If someone gets drunk or stoned, they still have to be able to get out of their underwear, and if you get injured and rushed to the hospital, the doctors might need to get them off, so there better be a quick easy way to do it. And if the doctors and extremely drunk can do it, the rapists and molesters will be able to do it, too. It'll be the same as figuring out how to open a tricky bra clasp and then Cenk's theory about it helping drunk and passed out girls won't even be true anymore.
If the kind of bullet proof safety AR Wear promises is the kind of security you really want, you should just buy an old fashioned traditional heavy, hard to crack chastity belt and leave the key at home. That will prevent almost everyone under almost all circumstances from molesting you. They might kill you while trying but your chastity will nearly always be safe. Of course, you still might run into a skilled locksmith who wants to rape you and in that case, you're screwed.
But, if you're a fanatical minister or parent, you can put little kids in these things and you won't have to worry about them even playing with themselves (Until they figure out how to open them) and I think that's what the primary target market for these things will be. And some people will want to get them to prove how committed they are to abstinence, I guess.
I can also see schools, especially in Texas, making these things required. To protect kids, of course, not to make some company rich. And if states can make you wear seat belts, what's to keep them from requiring chastity belts for all kids all the time? Especially when the governor has a buddy making a shoddy ineffective chastity belt---It's biggest selling point is that they are carefully not calling it a chastity belt and therefore avoiding that stigma---and needs sales. And it makes religious fanatics happy. Not to mention over protective fathers and jealous husbands and boyfriends. I bet that guys like Ariel Castro (Michelle Knight wanted to kiss the ground after rescue from Castro 'hellhole' http://www.cnn.com/2013/11/06/justice/michelle-knight-dr-phil/
) will find entertaining uses for them, too.
OK, now that you know how I feel about it, I'm going to turn the floor over to the Experts. Notice that, because I don't want to be unfairly labeled a creepy Sexual Predator, I'm not pointing out how Ana manages to look even better with every video. I feel sorry for her. Not because I can't complement her, because I'm sure that doesn't bother her at all, but because there must be millions of guys out there that she wouldn't mind being complemented by who also can't do it because they don't want to be put on a list. And if you multiply her by the all the other women out there who we can't say look great either, you start to get a sense of the scope of the problem. And then we see endless stories about how so many women are constantly threatened by self esteem issues that sometimes stem from no one telling them how pretty they are and how they cause them to do things like starve themselves to death. I don't want to make this about me but is preventing me from telling beautiful women that they are beautiful really going to help stop all the rape and molesting going on out there? I don't know. I don't write the rules, I just follow them. And if you tell me I have to wear the men's edition of the Rape Proof Underpants because it will keep women and girls safe, I guess I'll have to do it, too. If that day comes though, I will tell you to brace yourself for some sarcastic and maybe even off color comments. You've been warned. Now, here are the Young Turks:
Published on Nov 12, 2013
"A New York-based company is hoping to raise $50,000 to market anti-rape underwear for women. AR Wear uses cut-proof, lockable straps to fix the form-fitting underwear onto a woman's pelvic area to thwart would-be sexual assailants. The company stresses that "rape is about as wrong as it gets," and points out that "the only one responsible for a rape is the rapist," but its promotional website says the product is intended to provide women and girls more power to control the outcome of a sexual assault...".* Ana Kasparian, Cenk Uygur, and Ben Mankiewicz (What The Flick?! and TYT Sports) break it down on The Young Turks.
*Read more here from Travis Gettys / The Raw Story: http://www.rawstory.com/rs/2013/11/07...
Let's Build It Together! Join us for the next exciting chapter of TYT and build our next home with us. http://igg.me/at/TYTNetworkhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y57UqE26Tn4
*** Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Coast To Coast AM---George Noory, WOC AM 1420
|Tuesday, November 12th, 2013|
|Are You Done Talking About Wolves? I Got Animal Planet For That
This is the only review for The Ole Timey Country Down Home Red State Update Podcast 'n' 'Em Episode 52: The Fat Elephant In The Room from Monday, 11 November 2013 you'll ever need. Here's the official recap and link so you can listen and see for yourself just how right I am:
Jackie and Dunlap on Chris Christie's win, Time magazine fat jokes, Iran, Biden, Tom Cruise, Ted Cruz, Guns & Ammo, the CMAs, and how many times a day to pray.
Sponsored by Frasier and Slottbox.http://redstateupdate.libsyn.com/
Howdy! Do you like the new format change? That little section at the top there that gives you all the pertinent information so I don't have to waste any time or space down here in the body of the piece telling you that this the only review of The Ole Timey Country Down Home Red State Update Podcast 'n' 'Em Episode 52: The Fat Elephant In The Room from Monday, 11 November 2013 you'll ever need? So I can jump right into it and get us to wherever the Truth takes us. Fast.
That's important because even when you're in First Class, as you are right now, you just want the damn journey to be over with so you can enjoy the destination. That's why I pride myself on being the Concorde Of Podcast Reviewers. Oh, I guess I should explain, for the larger part of my rural audience that only tunes in when I talk about Jackie & Dunlap and probably don't know, that the Concorde was a really fast airplane that mostly took folks from places you wouldn't want to go to in the first place, places like New York and Los Angeles to places you'd never be caught dead in, places like Europe and Asia.
They don't run the Concorde anymore. I guess enough folks came to their senses and realized they outta stay home but anyway, the point is that I am so good at quickly getting to the point and landing you where you want to be and getting you off the damn plane before your vacation is all used up, that almost everybody says I should be a Red State Update Podcast Event Sponsor. Because I'd fit right in.
I do admit that sounds great. It'd be an honor and a privilege. And Lord knows I could use the extra business it'd drum up. The problem is money. Jackie & Dunlap hardly ever talk about it, so it's not widely known but if you call their office, you'll get the biggest sticker shock of your life. They charge $25. That's per spot, not the total for both spots. Maybe if you're a big rich businessman in Murfreesboro with a Snake Head empire or a former and sometimes current prostitute with a thriving cider enterprise, it don't sound like much. But what if you're me? Just a poor country writer who barely makes it from paycheck to paycheck, which don't amount to much cause I don't get paid for this, and only keeps going because some folks still believe that being the Most Respected And Directly To The Point Critic In The Criticizing Business still means something and I don't want to let them down.
But forget my loyal fans who worship the ground I walk on, cause who needs them? Let's get back to my problem. Have you ever tried to come up with $25? All at the same time? In cash? I suppose, if I wanted to be even more disappointed, I could ask if Jackie & Dunlap take credit cards or post dated four party out of town checks but seeing how Jackie doesn't trust banks enough to even keep his money in them, I can guess the answer is no.
But what if a miracle happened and the answer was yes? Well, then, I'd have to find someone who's willing to give me a credit card or a checking account but like they say, "Take it one step at a time and you'll be just fine," so it would work. But miracles don't happen, so I'm right back at Square One.
This is so unfair because I am really good with money. Earlier this year, I wanted to buy a new plane. Nothing fancy. Just a little bitty Gulfstream G650 that only seats eight passengers. So I went to my Head Accountant and said, "Hey, get me this plane." She said, "No. But if you're really good for the rest of the day, you can have two desserts tonight." I told her to stop treating me like a child and to start doing her job or she'd be sorry because I'd lace her Cappuccino with Ex Lax. Sort of like what they did on Boardwalk Empire, only not that strong a dose.
That scared her real good because she stopped all the smart backtalk and looked at something on her computer and said, "OK, tell you what. You don't need another plane but I'll let you have one anyway, IF you can come up with the down payment, $14.95. In cash. I really can't be any more fair than that."
Looking back at it now, I think she thought I couldn't come up with that much money. But I showed her. I waited until Suzette, my Chef De Cuisine and Chief Executive Vice President In Charge Of Domestic Bliss got in the shower and then I took a ten dollar bill and a five dollar bill out of her purse.
I took a few Euros, too. I'm not rightly sure what Euros are. They seem to have a Demonic kind of feel to them that frightens some people but German, French and Italian strippers like them just fine and that's good enough for me. Anyway, the point is that I did the impossible. I went out and earned that money. The old fashioned way, by taking it out of Suzette's purse when she wasn't looking.
But can I do it a second time? Times are tough now. Suzette never lets her purse out of her sight these days. And all the other girls on my staff seem to have been taken over by the Cashless Society and use credit cards for everything. When I go through their purses, all I come up with is make-up, tampons and useless pieces of plastic. Even Suzette hardly ever has more than $10 in cash, so even if I could get to her purse, I still wouldn't have enough.
So my lifelong dream of sponsoring The Red State Update Podcast seems to be doomed. Maybe someday, Jackie & Dunlap will offer fractional sponsorship's that more people like me can afford but even if they do, I won't live long enough to see it. I'm not complaining, though. Life in abject poverty and doing without all the things that make existence worthwhile is just fine.
I'm not even going to tell you that when I was your age, you could buy ten thirty second commercials during the Super Bowl for $6.25 and Joe Namath would mention you at least three times in the post-game interview. You youngin's have it hard enough without me telling you how good life used to be.
I'll just keep making you feel like the luckiest person who ever lived by continuing to prop up your spirit by plugging along with this, my 52nd installment of The Only Ole Timey Country Down Home Red State Update Podcast 'n' 'Em Review You'll Ever Need, just like I have every Tuesday morning for the last year.
A long time ago, way back before you were born, before Podcastin' swept the world, Jackie & Dunlap did live action videos and I reviewed every single one of them, too. Not that I'm bragging. It wasn't nothing any other Nobel Prize winning author wouldn't have done if I already wasn't doing it better than they could.
So you just forget my my money problems and broken dreams and how the world has generally gone to Hell in a handbasket anyway and let's get back to our discussion of Dunlap's Speculative Wolf Fiction. First, though, before I forget, I want to tell you what Miss Bunni, my Head Astrologer and Chief Executive Vice President In Charge Of Other Worldly Affairs saw when she peered into the future and listened to Jackie & Dunlap's big anniversary show in advance.
It seems that Don Jekyll, Senior and Tee Tee Slott have both gotten into the Catering game. Don did it because everyone and their brother and son and his girlfriend and their son is now selling Snake Heads and he got tired of fighting it. Tee Tee realized that she has this big house with this big kitchen now that isn't being used most of the time and she also has several Independent Contractors at any given time who aren't all that busy so she decided to start, Tee Tee Slots Out Call Only Personal Escort And Vittles Service.
Don and Tee Tee, being the smart business people they are, went to directly to Jackie & Dunlap, respectively, to sponsor the Big Anniversary Show. The negotiations went great. They got the $25 from each AND cake and ice cream. Just like they talked about when they were planning the Anniversary Show.
They were both so excited because they both expected to surprise the other with free cake and ice cream. Jackie went first and introduced his sponsor, Don Jekyll's Snake Heads Catering Service, Until He Can Afford To Change The Sign. Then he announced that Don's crew was there to serve them the most delicious cake and ice cream they had ever tasted. Dunlap was a little deflated because his surprise wasn't going to have as much impact but he went along with it, surmising that all would be saved when Don's cake sucked and Tee Tee's was the best ever.
That's when the first complication set in. It seems that some orders had been messed up and Don's crew brought in roast turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing, green beans and pumpkin pie. That's when Dunlap demanded to know why he ordered Thanksgiving dinner just a week before Thanksgiving when he had been afraid of even having the same cake and ice cream the week before.
Jackie apologized for Don and defended him, too, saying that at least Don Jekyll's Snake Heads Catering Service, Until He Can Afford To Change The Sign still worked better than the ObamaCare website. They argued a little back and forth and finally Jackie said, "Will you just shut up and get your sponsor done so we can start figuring out what to do with all this food we don't need?"
That's when Dunlap saved the day by announcing the launch of Tee Tee Slots Out Call Only Personal Escort And Vittles Service, Then he carefully explained that you shouldn't be misled by the name cause you can still come to the house and get anything you need. Except food. Which is only available for out call. Unless you give Loretta a really big tip and she might make you a grilled cheese sandwich but that's hit or miss, depending on her mood.
While Jackie was raising objections to what he called, "Whore Food," Dunlap sprang his surprise by announcing that he had ordered cake and ice cream. Then a a couple of girls rolled out a cart filled with roast turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing, green beans and pumpkin pie.
I know some of you haven't had time to Remote View it yet so I don't want to ruin it for you by saying too much. But I will say that there was a debate over the merits of round cakes versus square cakes and at some point, someone said, "I don't want to be served Whore Turkey by whores when it's only one week from Thanksgiving!"
OK, now I think we can get back to our discussion of how inflation is working with Hollywood to ruin the Funny-Book Business the same way ObamaCare is wrecking America. Or should we go back to Dunlap's Wolf Fiction? You know what? Let's just splurge and do both.
There's only one Red State Update Podcast a week and we should make the most of it. Right after I tell you what I heard at the Slaw Cellar the other day. You know how I hate gossip so don't confuse what I'm about to tell you with the loose made up talk of bored busybodies.
While I was standing there, reading the extensive Slaw Menu, trying to decide what I want, the girl behind the counter was talking to her friend who was standing next to me and I couldn't help overhearing. It seems that Don Jekyll, Sr., and Dottie Geyser don't really hate each other at all, like everyone thinks. They just put on that act to protect their reputations. And the real reason him and his boy don't get along is that there is a 95% chance that Truck is Don Sr's., not Don Jr's. son. That's also why Don Jr. takes so many drugs.
I'm sure that story will have a happy ending. And speaking of Happy Endings, I think I have now covered absolutely everything in Episode 52: The Fat Elephant In The Room, so we can wrap this one up. I recommend you go listen to it cause it's funny, enlightening and it'll make you feel good inside. Thank ya kindly for reading, don't forget to rate and review. If you can send me $25, I'd sure appreciate it. Y'all come back now, and be sure you're not late next week cause you don't want to miss even one minute of the big Anniversary Show Review. Especially if you stop being a cheapskate and let me be a sponsor. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420
|Monday, November 11th, 2013|
|Quite The Treat
My Editorial Staff has experimented with this minor format change before. It consists of putting the purpose and link of Reviews in a header segment, just like this: Review Of Boardwalk Empire Season 4 Episode 46: White Horse Pike (http://www.hbo.com/boardwalk-empire#/boardwalk-empire/episodes/04/46-white-horse-pike/synopsis.html
Like most other experiments, it tends to improve life somewhat. It cuts down on the fan mail from people who don't quite realize that the entire post is a review of something, in Boardwalk Empire's case, a TV show, so I get lot fewer questions that go a lot like this, "Why doesn't your friend Nucky just get a cell phone? It seems like it'd save him a lot of trouble." And entire letters that go like this, "Hi! My name's Margaret...Just like one of your best friend's. It's like fate, huh? Anyway, you live in Atlantic City, too? Cool! Why don't you meet me on the Boardwalk in front of Bally's sometime this week? Just let me know when it's a good time for you. Understand, it's not just because it would be the biggest thrill of my entire life to actually meet you but it's also because I'm an intern for a local law firm that specializes in Sexual Harassment and I think we could really help your friend, Daughter. The one who was inappropriately touched by her boss. Oh, on second thought, forget the awkward meeting in a public place. That's so 2008. What am I ? A teenager? Well, I sort of am, I guess, but in two weeks, I'll be 20 and to prove it, here's my phone number, XXX-XXX-XXXX, just call me and we'll get together anywhere you want! PS I have always wanted to know what it's like to be Batgirl!"
I redacted her phone number because...Well, she's mine, go find your own Intern! Anyway, back to the point at hand, with this new style, beyond keeping all the readers on the same page from start to finish, I also don't have to break up the narrative flow with the episode information and link and I think that might be the biggest advantage of all. So, at the next Editorial Meeting, I'm going to vote for adopting this format change on a permanent basis for all future Reviews. If you have any objections or suggestions, now would be the time to present them, before I get fed up with the whole cumbersome voting process and just issue an Executive Order. Now, let's get on to the only Review Of White Horse Pike That You'll Ever Need.
Starting with the obvious might be a time worn cliche that has outstayed its' welcome but I'm going to do it anyway: Hiring Richard and making him a dishwasher at the Onyx Club makes even less sense than making Dexter a Lumberjack. So, congratulations go to Nucky for making the most boneheaded move in Television History.
Not that it tarnishes his reputation much because after you sleep with Billie Kent, it's hard to slide very far downhill. Still, to us die-hard hardcore purists who demand the most from our idols, it is a black mark on his record. Even though we know what Nuck's reaction is going to be: That's your complaint? Really? May I remind you that I bedded Billie Kent right up until her untimely death? When and if you ever do anything that impressive, you can come talk to me about making executive decisions. In the meantime, go clear table 5. You're a busboy, now!
At that point, despite all the stupid moves he makes, we have to admit that Nucky has won again because we won't even play our next big card, the Joker, because it has the Mickey Doyle problem for its' picture, because we don't want to find out what happens after being demoted to busboy. So, maybe, it would be better all the way around for the safety and well being of our careers to take this opportunity to go on vacation. To Chicago.
And once we get to the Windy City and take a good look around, I think you'll agree with me when I say, "Nelson and Al are now officially in the Clyde Barrow/Adolph Hitler/Nucky/Chalky Club." If you're unfamiliar with the Clyde Barrow/Adolph Hitler/Nucky/Chalky Club, it's an organization compromised of people who keep escaping certain death over and over again, forcing them to conclude that some Divine Force is protecting them.
Clyde and Adolph both very publicly made their views clear about how they were invincible because someone upstairs was looking out for them but thus far, Nucky and Chalky are quiet on the subject. It's like they don't want to jinx their luck by talking about it but that silence doesn't make them nonmembers of the club.
I assume Al and Nelson will observe the same strategy. Even after last night's attempt on their lives. That's speculation, though. What we know for certain is that even though it looks like Johnny Torrio set up Al to be killed, we know that nothing is going to happen to him because of it. Nothing fatal, anyway.
Oh, relax, I'm not going to spoil anything for you. I'm just going to tell you that Johnny isn't going to die until Season 37, on April 16, 1957. In Brooklyn. Does his sudden death at the age of 75 from a completely unexpected heart attack have anything to do with Margaret moving into one of Arnold Rothstein's apartment buildings in 1924? Maybe. Maybe not. I'm not going to ruin the surprise.
I'm not even going to go into the real Alvin Clarence Thomas and how he relates to Nucky Thompson, who is about 10% fictional and about 90% Enoch Lewis "Nucky" Johnson, and how the whole thing is going to unite in a surprise plot twist for Arnold in Season 8. November 4 and 5, 1928, to be exact. Will Arnold's replacement continue to honor the rent free apartment agreement with Margaret until the agreed upon date in 1929? That's another surprise I'm not going to ruin, so stop asking.
Instead, let's go back to Atlantic City and hope that Nucky has cooled down and realizes we didn't mean anything when we called him an idiot, and have a look at the symbolism behind Richard, a veteran, ripping up a flag so he could use it to bandage Chalky. At the American Legion Hall. On the day before Veterans Day.
That's almost as heavy as Gyp beating up and mugging a Priest in Church on Easter Sunday. Or Dunn stabbing the Preacher at Church. Or, for those of you who miss Californication as much as I do, as heavy as Jesus climbing down off the Cross to make out with Faith or Hank having oral sex with the hot young Nun at Church. I don't know nothing about no literary analysis but if I did, you can bet that I'd conclude that the writers and producers are trying to tell us something about the way we treat Vets and other minorities we label as undesirable.
Speaking of undesirable, is it going to take Eli as long to kill Warren Knox as it's taking Nucky and Arnold to kill Mickey Doyle? I still say that Eli is a whole lot smarter than anyone is giving him credit for but he needs to work on being able to complete projects in a timely manner. Still, he might pleasantly surprise all of us by coming up with a way to get Dr. Valentin Narcisse and Warren in the same place next Sunday and wiping them both out at once. While making it look like an accident so New York doesn't get upset and thereby leaving Nucky free to finally hire an assistant who looks just like Billie Kent.
Then Nucky won't be so short tempered and moody all the time and we'll again feel free to tell him he's a moron when he does something stupid. That pretty much covers this week. We really don't have to go into Nucky and Sally's long distance flirting or Meyer Lansky and the heroin shipments because we already knew that Meyer isn't going to die until January 15, 1983, so we knew that Nucky wasn't going to kill him.
Unless you didn't already know that, in which case I'll say: Season 63 SPOILER ALERT. So you won't get mad at me. Now, in conclusion, I just want to say a word or two to all of you who are saying that the hooker Al was entertaining before and during the assassination attempt was too big. And those words are: You're wrong. There is nothing wrong with her body. Maybe it's not your personal idea of perfection. It might not even be mine but you'd never hear me say that even if it was true because that kind of narrow minded attitude slams shut a lot of very good opportunities that would otherwise be open. Someday, you'll learn that when you maintain an open, curious mind, everything gets better. Sometimes it even propels you the very top of the Chicago Underworld. And the only mistake the director made in regard to her is that when she bent over the desk, she was still wearing her underpants. He should have had her take them down first.
I could go on and on about what directors should and shouldn't do at some length but I can't because it's getting late and I have to meet an Intern on the Boardwalk. I'm taking her to Bare Exposure (http://www.bareexposureac.com/
) and I know that sounds a little flashy and maybe even a little show-offy for a first date but she works with lawyers all day, so I'm guessing she's expecting the best right out out of the gate. I'll let you know how it goes. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Red State Update: Episode 40: This Ain't My First Racist Ro
|Saturday, November 9th, 2013|
|Abortion Machines And Gentlemen
Good morning, Abortion Machines and gentlemen. As you may have already guessed, our main topic today is going to be the leader of the Republican Party, Rush Limbaugh (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/11/06/rush-limbaugh-abortion-machines_n_4228659.html
). What you may not be expecting is that we aren't going to talk much about abortion or how the Conservatives define depriving women of dominion over their lives and bodies as, "Freedom." Or how the Republicans want to torture all the kids they want to force to be born by cutting food stamps and healthcare while at the same time continuing to prove that Voodoo Economics doesn't work by making sure their parents don't have jobs. And then they say people are poor because they are lazy and shiftless.
I know all those things deserve a lot more talk but, for this morning at least, I'm all talked out on them. If history is any guide to go by, my silent mood won't last long and soon enough, I'll again be in the mood to talk about liberty and the despots that are trying to rob you of it and in the meantime, to fully take advantage of the silence by filling it with the reminder that that until we finally come to the universal acknowledgement that, yes, the world owes you and everyone else a living, we going to continue to have these sorts of problems because denying it is the source of most of our woes.
And if full, worthwhile employment for everyone means that massive amounts of wealth must be redistributed from those who stole it to those who need it and guys like Mitt Romney have to live a more normal life, so be it. If we have reached the point where giving people work just for the sake of work is impractical---If you haven't already, you should read Robert Silverberg's novel, The World Inside (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_World_Inside
) because it illustrates the up and down sides of doing that and since it was published in 1971, you can probably get it for free somewhere online. It also shows what could happen the Tea Party wins via things like concepts such as, "You're guilty if we say you are," and the worshiping of reproduction at the expense of everything else---because machines can do most of the real labor needed, then it becomes a simple matter of distributing the wealth so that everyone can have a happy, decent life. And we can do it. We have the resources and the technology. We just lack the will.
Yes, I am calling for the Return Of 1942, when the easiest thing in the world to do was getting a good well paying job and you only needed one of them because the pay was so good. On a worldwide scale for everyone. Only without the war, which contrary to what the Right Wing will tell you, we do not need. We can achieve the same (And this time, lasting) success without clinging to the never ending cycles of mass murder (Justified by calling it War) and mass starvation (Justified by calling it Economic Downturns). And now that I'm done not talking about Abortion, Economics and Freedom, I am free to get to what I am talking about, which is Global Warming, so we'll commence that right now.
If you've been listening to the Nazi Station (http://www.woc1420.com/main.html
) lately, you may have noticed the same sea change that I have. They keep playing this Rush Limbaugh promo where he says that Global Warming is not man-made. This is huge because I have never heard Rush say that Global Warming is real before. Up until now, I've only heard him rant and rave about how the whole thing is a hoax.
What this obviously means is the evidence has become so overwhelming that even Rush's listeners (People with Stage 7 Alzheimer's) can plainly see that it's real. So this is progress. Really sad, pathetic and long overdue progress but progress, nonetheless. And now, we can nitpick and tell Rush that anyone with an IQ above 4 can took at the data and see how the rise of Global Warming corresponds with the Industrial Revolution and determine that it is man-made OR we can take the high road and simply say, "Good boy, Rush. For a blind, brain dead alcoholic junkie who is constantly preoccupied with the fear of being Outed (SPOILER ALERT: Rush is Gay), you sure are awful smart for seeing what's so obvious! Now go to the kitchen and tell the cook I said you can have a cookie."
Either way, now, since even the hopelessly ignorant are finally on the right page, maybe we can start doing what Art Bell (I am just as disturbed as you are that he stopped his new show but don't worry. I consulted Adria, my Chief Executive Vice President In Charge Of Gypsy Fortune Telling, and she says that he will be back on the air soon) has been suggesting for more than ten years, that we forget about laying blame and just do whatever we can to reverse or at least arrest the process.
That will mostly involve doing all the things the oil companies don't want us to do but now that their trained parrot has taken the first step by admitting that Global Warming is real, it won't be nearly as hard as it used to be. Maybe we can even do something before the next Sandy or the storm that just wrecked a big part of the Philippines can form. And create a lot of good jobs in the process.
Call it: Killing Two Birds With One Stone Before The Birds Can Kill Us. And if you're with PETA, don't get excited because that's just a metaphor. I don't want to hurt any birds. So, you girls can just relax and take off your clothes and show me how you'd rather go naked than wear fur. Then write Rush a note and tell him how you feel about being called an Abortion Machine and how it's going to affect your voting patterns for the rest of your life. It won't accomplish much as far as stopping the degrading rhetoric goes but venting feels good. And sometimes felling good is the best you can do. At least until we quell the Global Warming threat and have time to work on other problems but even then it'd still be nice if you still left your clothes off. You know, for old times' sake. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Red State Update: Episode 40: This Ain't My First Racist Ro
|Friday, November 8th, 2013|
|It's Friday, You Bastards
Thanks to my friends at Google, I remembered that it's Hermann Rorschach's 129th birthday today. So, Happy Birthday, Hermann, wherever you are. Out of politeness and respect, I won't remind you how I feel about Psychiatry. I won't point out that it is, at its' core, a legitimate science that actually helps people in some cases but 99% of the time, it's just a bunch of hucksters and charlatans fleecing desperate people with junk science, half-baked theories and dangerous drugs, so it's impossible to take seriously.
That way, I don't have to issue the usual apologies to my favorite Psychologist, Dr. Robert Hartley and my favorite Psychiatrist, Dr. Frasier Crane. I don't even have to apologize to all you thieving, useless, counterproductive flunkies out there who have "degrees" from diploma mills and call yourselves "counselors," because I've done nothing to offend you, either.
This is why the Chief is always sending me to Damascus (Or ash-Sham, if you live in Syria), Cairo (The one in Egypt, not the one in Illinois), Baghdad and Jerusalem. My mad diplomacy skillz are the human race's best and maybe last hope for enduring peace in the Middle East. And once I achieve that, I'm going to do something really astounding. I'm going to forge a peace treaty between the mainstream Republicans and the Tea Party.
Not that I want the mainstream Republicans and the Tea Party to get along and work together, because that will be bad for everyone. It's just that the giant rift between them is like Rubik's Cube, I have to solve it because it's there. Instead of getting upset about it, why you don't you just write it off as just another case of God giving and then taking away?
You get lasting peace in the Middle East, which is something everyone has wanted for thousands of years and then, since there are no free lunches, you also get President Ted Cruz. Now, your duty is to take the good with the bad and make the most of it. Have fun with it. If you enjoy non-consensual vaginal probing, get a job with Ted's Small Government as one of the millions of new Vagina Probers he's going to hire---To prove his commitment to small government that keeps its' nose out of your business---And notice that you won't be saddled anymore with the old, degrading label of Rapist, because now you are a Government Approved Vagina Prober doing the work of the Lord.
If you enjoy sending people to prison for engaging in consensual oral and/or anal sex, join the Bedroom Police. If you like killing people for the sake of killing people, enlist in the Abortionist Division of the Execution Squad. Do you like molesting random strangers, especially children? Get a job with the TSA (This one you can do right now but you have to be kind of careful about it, unlike what it's going to be like when Ted takes over). I could go on but you get the point. There will be so many opportunities in this Brave New World that if you don't find something that turns you on, you're just not trying. And won't trying be a whole better than just moping around and complaining because a despot is in charge?
And it might not even be Ted Cruz. It could be Chris Christie or any of the other fruitcakes they have in their overflowing loony-bin. If you miss Halloween as much as I do and just want one more big scare, you can even say, "President Bachmann," out loud, cause it could be her, too. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what nut they spit into the Oval Office because all those names are interchangeable.
The main thing is that you remember it's not my fault. All I did was broker a peace deal between the Mainstream Republicans and The Tea Party so they could capitalize on all the sabotage they managed to inflict on the Obama Administration while they still hated each other and then work together to totally ruin what's left of your life. I shouldn't have to defend myself in advance like that but I know what human nature is like and if I don't, you're going to blame me.
Just like you would blame me when they come to pry your precious gun out of your cold dead hand, even though that was the Tea Party plan the whole time. You have no excuse for not knowing this one, because they told you they want you to have guns. Just like they told you they are fiscally responsible, they don't hate women, they are in favor of small government and they hate Gay Marriage because they are straight. So the blame for losing your guns lays squarely on your shoulders, not mine.
Anyway, when this all shakes out and becomes real, I hope you're smart enough to realize that I was nothing more than a gifted puzzle solver looking for a new challenge and am therefore, completely innocent. If you have to point fingers, look in the mirror and point away. Now, since it's Friday and everything, would anyone care for a sensible solution to this whole mess?
That's right. It's time to bring out Fifi, my Sommelier, with the Theme Drink she invented for tonight:
1 part Absolut Peppar
1 part Everclear, 190 proof
6 drops Tabasco sauce
1 pinch Salt
Put the Tabasco sauce in the bottom of a shot glass, pour equal parts Absolut Peppar and Everclear 190 then add salt. Set on fire and serve.
Personally, I think Fifi is injecting her own unauthorized, biased opinions concerning my immaculate innocence, along with what she thinks will happen when President Ted takes over, into this one but that ain't for me to judge. It'll be up to The Department Of Homeland Uppity Sarcastic And Disobedient Domestic Servants to decide just how guilty she is and what will happen to her because of it. Maybe they'll have mercy on her. Maybe they won't. Either way, it's not my problem and you can bet, next time she'll have a better attitude.
And if some grateful future President names me The Department Of Homeland Uppity Sarcastic And Disobedient Domestic Servants Czar, it's just an Act Of God. A meaningless coincidence that you won't even bother investigating. If you know what's good for you.
OK, now, who wants to play tonight's Featured Party Game: Binders Full Of Women In Slave Girl Outfits? I gotta admit that this one isn't original. I don't know who created it or any of its' other history but I do know it's at least a year old, because we played it one night late last summer at Mitt Romney's house when he really needed a break from campaigning. The other thing I know about it is that it's a whole lot of fun.
If history is any guide to go by, some of you ladies aren't going to want to play at first for reasons I can't figure out but eventually, you will come around and willingly embrace the future before it has to be thrust upon you. OR you could remember everything that has ever happened in the past and never vote Republican again but ha ha, what are the odds of that? So just put on the outfit now, do as you're told and I guarantee it will be a good time. For at least one of us and what more could you ask for? Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420
|Thursday, November 7th, 2013|
|My Good Deed For The Day
I don't write about them everyday but I always perform at least seven good deeds every week and they always, especially when I do write about them, produce a flurry of questions. So this time, before I get to today's Good Deed. I am going to give you some general background and answer all your questions before you can even ask them, thereby saving you a lot of tedious writing and me a lot of tedious reading. And, just to prove how Saintly I am, I am not even counting that as my 2nd Good Deed Of The Day. Now, let's get started.
If you want to point fingers and assign blame for my hopeless addiction to helping people and improving the world, you need look no further than Martin Luther King, Jr. and The Beatles. There were plenty of others, too, but they were the biggest offenders. When I was young and impressionable, Marty was constantly trying to right a more than two hundred year old wrong. Meanwhile, John and Yoko were trying to end the war and achieve World Peace. George was always giving concerts for Bangladesh. Paul and Linda were working to protect animals. And Ringo was single-handedly trying to support the entire Distillery Industry as well as dozens of small farmers and businessmen in Latin America.
They are the reason I, to this very day, am compelled to do what we normally reserve for criminals and kids who just want to graduate from High School: Community Service. For all practical purposes, you might just as well call me Jesus. Unless you're a purist because while I have the Walking On Water trick down, I still haven't figured out how to turn it into wine. The way I see it, if the good Lord wanted me to turn water into wine, He wouldn't have given me Boones Farm: Fruit Flavored Strawberry Hill but lots of folks don't see it that way and they say if I want to be the Messiah, I have to do it all.
If you're in that camp, fine. I'm not going to try to tell you how to live or what to think. If you're blind or dead, though, just don't come crying to me because I have plenty of loyal blind and/or dead followers that I can restore sight to and/or resurrect, so nothing personal but I don't need you. Or, if you built your house in a flood plain and now need someone to part the waters so you can get to the bathroom, call someone else cause I'm busy that day.
I could go on but you get the idea. I help people because I was programmed to do it by notorious cult leaders like Martin Luther King, Jr. and The Beatles. And I endure all the slings and arrows that people sling at me because of it bravely and without complaint. I haven't even told you what happens every time I go to the Billionaires' Club to enjoy my one and only vice in life: A simple chocolate sundae made with a blend of the 28 most expensive cocoas in the world, covered with edible 23-karat gold flake and served on the nude bodies of the last four Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue cover models.
The taunts and jeers I get from the likes of Donald Trump and Dave and Charlie Koch for aiding people who they feel don't deserve any help because they think they are poor because they are lazy and shiftless, would curl your hair. They don't even like it when I tip the girls after I get finished eating. Because minimum wage is enough for anyone, even swimsuit models. They say I am just encouraging the "Welfare State Induced Taking Class" and when they come and take all our car elevators, it will be my fault.
Still, in the face of all that, I persevere. Because I care about people. And the person I care about today is Nicole Kurowksi. Nichole is in a little bit of trouble right now (http://www.nbcphiladelphia.com/news/local/Cheerleading-Coach-Accused-of-Having-Sex-With-Student-230914741.html
) and I want to help. By offering to let her channel her socially unacceptable urge to have sex with her students into having perfectly socially acceptable sex with me (Oh, your friends may not see me as being acceptable, at least not at first but how do they feel about underage students? And have they ever approved of anyone you've ever slept with for that matter? Think about it).
But this magnanimous gesture is not just limited to Nichole. There are lots of you young girls out there in your first teaching job who have the same illegal desires (I know there are a lot of you because I keep reading about you in the papers when you get caught) and this offer is open to you, too.
Instead of risking your job and reputation, just play it safe by telling the people you really want to sleep with to go read Paradise Lost again and come see me. I realize that you have a rather specific set of needs that must be met in order to really light your fire that you don't think you can get from me, so let me put your mind at ease about that.
I can give you thousands of sworn affidavits from women I have been involved with in the past that will completely assure you that I will be more like a thirteen year old boy than any real thirteen year old boy who ever lived. I don't want to brag or anything but frankly, ladies, they just can't compete with me. So sext me a photograph of your butt and let's get started!
If you're really good, I'll even take you to the Billionaires' Club for dessert. It's a lot like a High School cafeteria, so you'll feel right at home. And if you're bored being a teacher, don't worry. I have stewardess' uniforms, policewoman uniforms, etc etc etc. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be Batgirl? I can make it happen.
Anyway, the point is, stop taking out all the pent-up passion on your innocent students. Come and take it all out on me. I am sacrificing myself for them. That's my Good Deed for the day. Now all you have to do is quit throwing away gifts from God, things like me, by making the most of it. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420
|Wednesday, November 6th, 2013|
Just like a decapitated rattle snake (Which are capable of biting for two hours after you chop off the head), the Republicans keep striking: First Thoughts: The GOP establishment strikes back - but with an asterisk (http://firstread.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/11/06/21332690-first-thoughts-the-gop-establishment-strikes-back-but-with-an-asterisk?lite
). There is some good news. New York, Boston and Detroit have Democratic mayors and in Virginia, 61% of the people want abortion to be legal.
And I think we can assume, based on how well Chris Christie did, that New Jersey is happy with Marriage Equality. The best good news is that last night seems to have been another nail in the coffin of the Tea Party. The most disturbing news is that 53% of the people of Virginia seem to be opposed to ObamaCare, while only 46% support it. Barack really needs to get the saboteurs rounded up and shipped off to labor camps quick.
And a lot of people don't think that Terry McAuliffe will be a very good Governor, even though he is a Democrat but maybe he'll surprise everyone. I say that if you're not happy with him, at least be a little glad because if Ken Cuccinelli would have won, there is no chance he would have surprised anyone.
Anyway, any way you slice it, last night is a big confusing mess and it's gonna take a while to sort out and determine which side really won the most but in the meantime, let's assume the worst: The Republicans did great and will live on for at least the next several generations.
That sounds as terrible as it actually is but I have something that is instantly going to make you feel better about the whole thing: Discrimination. Dig this, kids: Brain-powered car offers ultimate weapon against distracted driving (http://autos.yahoo.com/blogs/motoramic/brain-powered-car-offers-ultimate-weapon-against-distracted-180227638.html
How about that? We are moving into a future where Republicans won't be able to drive because all the cars will be brain powered! Seeing Conservatives starve to death because they can no longer drive to the grocery store won't make up for the years they spent slashing food stamps and forcing millions of kids to be born into poverty because of their insane superstitions but it will take the edge off it.
And when Dennis Miller can no longer drive to work and has to collect unemployment, we can have a lot of fun sending him emails outlining how much we hate him for being lazy and then act like it's his fault that he has no brain, the same way he talks every night about how much he hates the unemployed even though it was his rich white friends who outsourced all the jobs and tanked the economy.
The only real downside is that this Brain Powered Car is going to have no effect on the elite 1%. They don't drive themselves. They use ordinary working class chauffeurs and they all have brains. So Donald Trump, Rush Limbaugh and the Koch Brothers are immune.
But guys like Dennis and my #1 Favorite Local Conservative Crackpot, Jim Fisher (http://www.woc1420.com/pages/JimFisher.html
) are going to be massively hurt by this and I couldn't be any more happy about it. I will be especially amused when they start griping about the lack of public transportation because when only poor people needed it, they spent endless hours preaching about how it is just a shameful waste of money that no one wants.
And when guys like Jim can no longer drive themselves to the polls (And watch them scream bloody murder about that, the same way they screamed bloody murder about Black people being allowed to vote in Florida. Well, they didn't call it Black people voting, their code for that is Voter Fraud), it will become a lot easier to build abortion clinics and then one of my all time biggest dreams might just come true.
Someone might finally build a 24 hour, free, no questions asked abortion clinic right across the street from Jim's house. And the protesters will still be able to speak their minds...If they can find someone to drive them down there because the cars are brain powered now...but they have to do it from razor wire enclosed Free Speech Zones located a minimum of 400 yards from the clinic entrance.
For those of you who live in technologically backward countries...And yet still manage to somehow have better healthcare for less money because you're smart enough to use the Single Payer system...Four hundred yards is 365.76 Meters. For you Republicans who are still trying to repeal ObamaCare and won't be be able to drive soon because all the cars will be brain powered, you'll just make up your own number like you always do. It'll probably be ten miles (17600 Yards or 16093.4 Meters), because that's what you can count easily on your fingers.
So, what it all boils down to is that even if the Republicans are laughing now, we will have the last laugh. Someday. When all the cars are brain powered. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420
|Tuesday, November 5th, 2013|
|It's Election Day, You Bastards
I feel so left out. It's Election Day and I can't elect anyone. No, I'm not Black and living in Florida, but it's almost as bad. Here is the official notice that explains everything:
Democratic National Committee
8:38 AM (38 minutes ago)
You are receiving this message as an Obama for America supporter.
The Democratic National Committee is solely responsible for the content of this message.
Yesterday, you received an email from us that was intended to be sent to every state where there is an election today, November 5th. Due to an error in the data, this message was sent to Illinois.
There are no elections in Illinois today, and we sincerely regret the error.
Democratic National Committee
I know some of you are accusing me of artificially extending Halloween by rubbing your nose in all those gory details but stop and think for a minute. Am I the one who said that there wouldn't be any elections in Illinois today? No. So why are you trying to blame the victim?
I might as well be a Gay Black Jewish woman trying to get into Rush Limbaugh's Country Club. And it's gonna get even worse here in a few minutes when I put on my Voting Uniform...It's the suit I wore the very first time I ever voted, which was on June 8, 1982 (It was just a Primary but that still counts, especially when it's your first time): an old pair of jeans and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. And I have worn it to every single election since then. It still fits perfectly because I haven't gained an ounce of weight since college. Suzette, my Chef De Cuisine and Chief Executive Vice President In Charge Of Domestic Bliss, loves Election Day because she says my Voting Uniform consists of the most stylish, up to date clothes I have, which is kind of a problem because wearing them will make her beg me to have sex with her even more than she normally does and because I'm a Democrat and I care about the needy, I'll have to say yes. ObamaCare does a lot for sexually active young women but there are still gaps and if I don't fill them, who will?..and go the polls.
Right about now you're probably saying, "Greg, why would you get all dressed up and go to the polls when you know there is no election in Illinois? If you keep doing things like this, I'm not gonna have any choice. I'm going to have to sign that petition to the court asking that you be committed that Suzette gave me." And that's great. I love it when you generously share the full benefit of your vast inexperience with me like that. It's so cute. It's just like watching a toddler stick a fork in an outlet. Or watching Congress trying to repeal ObamaCare for the 40th time.
Foolish young'in, listen up. There's still a whole lot you don't know. Starting with what just might be the simplest, most basic foundation that supports all civilized societies: It ain't over until the bouncer says, "Sir, for the last time, there is no election today and you are causing a disturbance. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Then and only then do you officially know that you have fully discharged your civic duty to vote. Even when they won't let you. It's an expensive price to pay but no one ever said freedom is free. It takes struggle, sacrifice, constant vigilance and getting kicked out of the VFW once in a while because the "Man" says there ain't no election in Illinois today.
Speaking of the aforementioned "Man," he sure does have the ways and means and you're pretty much stuck having to do everything he says you have to do and not doing everything he says you can't do but you can't trust him. But you can sometimes use his own lies against him. Remember how I just told you that I've voted in every election since June 8, 1982? Well, that's a classic case of the "Man" screwing up to our advantage.
My official "Man Issued" Birth Certificate says I was born in Muscatine, Iowa on February 2, 1964 and that's the public perception I'm stuck with because in 1985, Donald Trump forced me to release it. He said, "If you make your long form Birth Certificate public, I'll give you $100."
That's how I made my first really big fortune. And it was even more than $100, cause he threw in a roll of nickels, too. Then we went to the Trump Plaza in Atlantic City and I was broke again in two hours. That reminds me, if you want the book I wrote that night, my Guide To Beating The Casinos At Their Own Game, there are a few copies left. And if you order in the next 30 minutes, you also get a set of steak knives that will slice a tomato razor thin after you chop down a redwood with them.
Anyway, that was just a courtesy for all you who will ask about it, I'm not here to sell books. The point is that, despite what the government is trying to tell you, my own infallible research indicates that I was really born in New York City on February 2, 1995 and I illegally voted in every election up until the one we just had here in March, right after I turned 18 and the "Man" couldn't do anything about it because he was the one who said I was born in 1964.
That, kids, is how you outsmart the system. That ain't gonna help us much today, though. There's not much you can do about an election that isn't being held except to give it your best shot and hope for the best. I swear, though, on my Lucky Voting Suit...Did I tell you it's also a good luck charm? No, I don't mean the way it turns women into uncontrollable nymphomaniacs, which I think I already mentioned. I mean the way it never fails to win elections. Seriously. If you don't believe me, just look at 1992, 1996, 2008 and 2012. Don't look at 1984, 1988, 2000 and 2004 because they are anomalies that taint the data set and give the wrong impression...that we are gonna have a good time today, anyway.
Technically, I'm not legally entitled to consume alcohol yet (My consolation prize is that I can go die in Afghanistan all I want) and that's why I'm drinking beer. For the rest of y'all, though, Fifi, my Sommelier, has invented this, today's Theme Drink:
Imaginary Election Day Egg Nog
6 large Egg
1 cup Powdered sugar
750 ml Dark rum, brandy or bourbon
4 cups Whipping cream
1/2 cup peach or apricot Brandy
Freshly ground Nutmeg
Separate eggs and refrigerate the whites. Beat yolks until light in color. Gradually beat in sugar, then slowly beat in 1 cup of rum. Let stand covered for at least 1 hr. Add rest of liquor, cream, and peach brandy, beating constantly. Refrigerate, covered, for 3 hours. Beat egg whites until stiff, fold in. Serve sprinkled with nutmeg. Serve in a punch bowl or another medium sized bowl.
Looks like someone is anxious to get Christmas started. I blame the stores that have all their Christmas stuff out already for giving impressionable kids like Fifi the wrong idea, that it's Christmas and not still Halloween. Anyway, I don't have time to deal with that now. I have to get dressed and go vote.
You can come with me if you want, unless you're an American Hating Communist, in which case you can stay here and play a practice round or two of Binders Full Of Girls Who Can't Vote Cause They Live In Illinois. It's a free country, so do whatever you want and I'll be back just as soon as I cast my ballot. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Red State Update: Episode 40: This Ain't My First Racist Ro
|Monday, November 4th, 2013|
|This Is SARCASM
Hello and welcome to November. Maybe. There may be some Literary/Poetic Licensing going on here but I'm going on the assumption that last night (Boardwalk Empire Season 4 Episode 45: Marriage And Hunting http://www.hbo.com/boardwalk-empire#/boardwalk-empire/episodes/04/45-marriage-and-hunting/synopsis.html
) was November 10, 1924 because Dean O'Banion committed suicide. By shaking hands with Frankie Yale and thereby allowing John Scalise and Albert Anselmi to shoot him to death.
There was no mention at all of Angelo Genna or Mike Merlo but that isn't all that strange. Out here in Hollywood, cutting out people like them is called "Streamlining" and we do it all the time. Even in big high quality productions like Boardwalk Empire. That's why ordinary viewers like you have to come to people like me, The Most Respected Critic In The Criticizing Business, when you want to know the big parts of the story they aren't telling you on TV. So I'll tell you all about Angelo and how he wanted to kill Dean just as much or even more than Johnny "Kill The Irish F**K" Torrio did and how Mike had to die before it could be done. Someday. Be patient.
Today, though, which should be November 11, 1924, unless Boardwalk Empire streamlined the date of Dean's suicide---Oh, and there's the additional complicating factor of how we set the clocks back Saturday night which is messing everyone up anyway and it wouldn't surprise me a bit if today was really April 9, 1894---but we will assume it is November 11, since that's what most of the evidence suggests, we want to talk about Nelson, who seems to be back to his good old psychopathic self.
There have been previous hints that this day was coming. Like when he went berserk at the Farraday Iron Company and mutilated his manager's face with a hot iron---The same manager he killed last night, along with two of his salesmen but we'll get to them in a minute. But those moments were isolated and fleeting. Now, however, the old, confident take charge Nelson seems to be back for good. From the way he killed Phil, Ralph and Scotty to the way he stood up to Al Capone to his confession to Dean and ending with the way he showed Sigrid who's boss, all the signs are there.
And I, for one, am glad. I was tired of the milquetoast Nelson. And to make things even better, he is now an Atheist. The one objection I have with him is that despite his continuing protests to the contrary, he did not build that house. Those Sears Houses were not one man projects. He needed help. And who poured the foundation? If there's a basement, who dug it? Who did the wiring? And the plumbing? Most of all, I want to know how he erected all the big framing members himself. If he could do all that himself, Amish Barn Raisings would be one man affairs.
So in that regard, he is just another Republican trying to take credit for everything he didn't do. Otherwise, though, I am perfectly happy with the new old Nelson. I'd probably even cut him some slack on the whole, "I built that myself," nonsense if he had shown us Sigrid's butt instead of just her boobs but he didn't and he must now live with the consequences.
I don't like being harsh like that but someone has to be the referee or the entire game devolves into chaos. You're just lucky that I am perfectly fair about it. For instance, I'm not blaming Nelson a bit for not going to Florida and giving Sally the same, "Take off your nightgown," speech that he gave to Sigrid. Because it would have involved being on a train for about a day and a half and then another day and a half getting back to Chicago and I know that would have been a hassle. Plus, Sally likely would have questioned his authority to demand that she disrobe because they have never met before and seeing as how she sleeps with a shotgun, the whole thing could have gotten messy.
But I will say that if that boy wants to get anywhere in this organization, he better start taking that kind of initiative. I shouldn't have to tell him that Sally never took off her nightgown. He should have seen the problem and corrected it himself. The way Nucky is FINALLY seeing the problem of Mickey Doyle. I just hope that killing him doesn't magically transport us to August 31, 1931---Because that's when Mickey Duffy, the man who Mickey Doyle is based on was killed.
Call me old fashioned but I want to see Seasons 4-10 before they spring Season 11 on me. It probably wouldn't bother you youngsters a bit but going from the middle of Season 4 straight to Season 11 would just raise my blood pressure. The one thing in our favor is that unlike Dean, Mickey is just based on a real person so Nucky should be able to kill him, and collect the life insurance policy on him he was smart enough to buy from Arnold, without disrupting the timeline.
It's easy to forget sometimes but Boardwalk Empire isn't in our Universe in the first place. It's in a very nearly identical Universe but it's not the one we know. The biggest advantage to that is that Mickey can be killed now, in late 1924, and every molecule in your body probably won't explode at the speed of light.
I wouldn't try it with a character who was also a real person but this seems pretty safe. Of course, we still don't even know if Mickey's going to be killed at all. At this point, it's just more likely than not. They even made him a bit sympathetic, which is what they usually do right before they bump you off. So, if you've been thinking about spending some more time with Mickey and maybe tell him how you feel and bury hatchets, I'd advise that you don't put it off. Do it now, while he's still here cause life is uncertain and the end is always near.
Sometimes the end isn't crystal clear. Sometimes it's obscured. As it was with Sally, Sigrid and every other girl who appeared last night, but in every case, you could tell it was there anyway. It was just frustrating because either they were sitting on them or wearing too many clothes. And at times like that, you need Dr. Valentin Narcisse. Because he sees things others do not. He has the power of Divination. He can see Ends when we can't.
He didn't share that awesome power with us, though and I'd like to address that by saying, "Hey, Doc! The next time you Divine Sigrid's and Sally's, et al, ends, could you share the vision with us?" And if he can Divine the Other Side as well as he can this side, I'd sure like to see Billie Kent's and Angela Darmody's ends again, too.
We shouldn't have to do all this begging just to see a few completely uncovered butts on prime-time cable TV but I guess that's just the way it is and we won't do any complaining about it. Instead, we'll accentuate the positive by pointing out that the Divination revelation was a nice, albeit very small, touch for the Halloween episode.
As was Jimmy's haunting return. Jimmy's appearance was more ephemeral but still, it counts as a haunting. He's a thread in the fabric of Gillian's life that continues to chafe her into insanity, just like an ill fitting pair of underwear (And maybe it would help her if we got to see her change her underwear more often. I'm not a doctor but I say it's worth a try) and that's just as scary as any actual ghost showing up. So, while it wasn't as much as I was hoping for, I still give Marriage And Hunting high marks for giving Halloween the respect it deserves.
And while we're handing out high marks, we might as well spotlight the comedic moments. There was Nelson's, "This is SARCASM!" And Julia's, "This is going straight into the complaint box..." And Richard's, "It's just a hunting license, isn't it?" Again, they were small moments but they were great.
They would have been better if we had seen Julia's butt but like I said, we aren't complaining about that. And now that she and Richard are getting married, maybe we will finally see a lot more of her. And I don't think the eventual custody battle over Tommy is going to effect it either way. If you ask me, I don't think Tommy factored as much in Julia's decision to ask Richard to marry her as she wants you to believe.
And that's pretty much all of it for this week except for this. A lot of people are saying that now that Richard is going to be working for Nucky, he's going to take over Eddie's job. I say that's crazy because you don't sign Babe Ruth and then make him your bat-boy.
And Nucky, despite his big, far from entirely true, More Conscientious Than Thou speech that he gave to Chalky, is smart enough to not waste talent. Except when he's not so smart. Like when he's more interested in sleeping with Billie Kent than with killing Gyp Rosetti (And we can't really blame him for that). Or when he does dumb things like letting Mickey Doyle run his warehouse and letting Mickey be Eli's boss...That didn't last all that long but it's still stuck on Nuck's resume.
Anyway, those are exceptions rather than rules and I remain firmly convinced that Eddie's replacement is going to be a Billie Kent lookalike who doesn't like wearing clothes. At least not around the house. And when she goes out? Well, that's what we have Dr. Valentin Narcisse and his power of Divination for. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420
|Sunday, November 3rd, 2013|
|It's Halloween Sunday, You Bastards
Near as I can tell, Mitt Romney is hopping mad about the shooting at LAX (http://www.cnn.com/2013/11/03/us/lax-shooting/index.html?hpt=hp_t1
). Not because Gerardo Hernandez, a TSA Officer, died. No, he was the only victim who did what he was supposed to do. Instead of going to the hospital like the other victims and sucking up valuable dollars that Mitt could be using to build another car elevator, he chose to not be a burden to rich old white men.
But Mitt can't say that. Well, he could, but he's still getting death threats, as well as the far scarier collections notices, from the Koch Brothers because of the 47% comments and he doesn't want to push his luck. So he's doing the next best thing. He's ignoring the shooting completely and attacking the President: Romney: Obama's 'dishonesty' on health care puts second term in peril (http://presspass.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/11/03/21295983-romney-obamas-dishonesty-on-health-care-puts-second-term-in-peril?lite
And that'll show the damn Democrats! And save the Republican Party. Not that Mitt needs the Republicans, he's just saving them out of the goodness of his heart. He's doing just fine. I'm pretty sure he works for YouTube now because every time I watch a Young Turks (http://www.youtube.com/user/TheYoungTurks?feature=g-high-crv
) playlist, I get the commercial that starts out with, "Let me be blunt. You believe in God." The guy rambles on for a while about God and then tells me how I can get his app that keeps the Bible on my desktop so I can worship anytime I want to.
And who but a clever, successful, fiscally responsible corporate genius dripping with good business sense like Mitt Romney would target me with all those advertising dollars designed to convince me to buy an app that will put the Bible on my computer? Of course, now that I've talked about it in public, they'll probably switch things up a little bit.
The next time I listen to a Young Turks playlist, I'll probably get 20 commercials from the NRA explaining how we need more assault rifles in the hands of everyone, including the mentally ill, in order to keep us safe. I don't know about you but I am sure glad that guys like Mitt run everything. I'd hate to live in a world where everything, including Internet ads, makes sense and work the way they should. And when something, such as ObamaCare, threatens to work right, thank God Mitt & Company are right there to sabotage it.
I just wish there was something scary about it. Here it is, the last day of the long Halloween holiday weekend and I can't find anything scary. Depressing, yes, but...Well, the problem when you live in Hell is that when someone shoots up an airport or a school or tries to kill a program that's going to make sure everyone has healthcare, it just isn't scary anymore. It's like you fell asleep one night and Freddie invaded your dream and it was like you were a coffee bean and he was a grinder. And it was scary.
But then your soul went to whatever dimension the dead go to and you got used to it and now every time you see Freddie, there's no fear, you're just like, "Hi, Fred. What's up. Had any interesting kills lately?" I think the technical term the doctors use for this is desensitization but I just say it sucks.
And will HBO do anything to help? I expect Boardwalk Empire to be good tonight (There's absolutely no reason to think otherwise because it's not the last episode) but will they go that extra Halloween mile? Will Jimmy return to haunt Nucky, accompanied by a harem of ghostly girls including Billie Kent and his first wife?
Will Richard kill himself again and then get transported back to Earth by angels as if he had never done it, again? Probably not. We can't even see the living girls naked most of the time so our odds of seeing the dead ones are pretty dismal and the chances of seeing Richard have a completely nonsexual paranormal adventure are just about as bad. They could at least kill a Priest or at least beat one another one up in church but I wouldn't count on that, either. I bet Mitt moonlights at HBO during the holidays.
The one thing I suppose we should be grateful for is that Fifi, my Sommelier, has not yet been infected by the Lazy Republican Welfare Queen Virus. It's her job to turn perfectly acceptable flavors into horrible concoctions that taste like spoiled lighter fluid and that's exactly what she does. And if you use your imagination a little, you can even pretend that this one is scary, rather than just what you would expect from this world:
Halloween Chocolate Martini
1 1/2 shot Godiva liqueur
1 1/2 shot Creme de Cacao
1/2 shot Vodka
2 1/2 shots Half-and-half
Mix all ingredients in shaker with ice, shake and pour into chilled cocktail glass.
And with that, I guess this, the best holiday of the year, is nearly officially over. I just Mitt calls in sick tonight and something really good happens in 1924 tonight. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Coast To Coast AM---John B. Wells, WOC AM 1420
|Saturday, November 2nd, 2013|
|It's Halloween Saturday, You Bastards
Dreamwise, I am on a roll. Last night, I had another nocturnal journey that's worth talking a little about but before I get to my second semi-interesting dream in a row, I want to thank Bill Maher (http://www.hbo.com/real-time-with-bill-maher
) for being so awesome. Many times I have pointed out how similar he is to Johnny Carson in style and delivery and for that I am grateful but last night he went even a step beyond that. Yesterday, the day after Halloween, he brought out the scariest person in his gruesome guest arsenal, Ann Coulter.
But he didn't beat us over the head with her. He put her in the first guest segment and in eight minutes, just when you were ready to rip out all your hair and go hide under the bed, poof, she was gone. Vanished in a puff of imaginary facts. It was a perfect blend of mind bending terror tempered with merciful moderation. Then he brought out the real guests, Neil deGrasse Tyson, Debbie Wasserman Schultz and Rob Reiner.
And the only objection to that that any reasonable person could make is that Neil wasn't allowed to talk much about Astrophysics. But he did talk a little about Gravity (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1454468/
) and if you want more, and who doesn't, well that's why God gave us Art Bell and eventually Neil will be on Dark Matter and we will finally have it all.
But that's not all. Bill also had Rob Lowe and they talked about Killing Kennedy, which was fine but they didn't talk about Californication. The only reasonable, logical explanation for that is that Satan has His grimy sulfur stained fingers in everything, including Real Time. And Ann Coulter...Since it's still Halloween and everything, I think it's safe to mention this without being accused of being gratuitously scary. Some insider folks in the Military-Entertainment-Industrial Complex say that it was at an orgy at Rush Limbaugh's house where Jackie & Dunlap came up with the idea for I Fingered A Skeleton. It seems that one of them wandered into a room where Satan was...um, physically rewarding Ann for being so evil. With His fingers.
Mind you, that's just an unconfirmed rumor and nothing is true until you see it on TMZ but it sure does give you something to think about, huh? It might even cause you to have an entertaining nightmare or two and that reminds me that it's almost time to start talking about the dream I had last night but first, I want to tell that right after that, I'm gonna show you Rob Lowe's scariest scene ever from Californication and then for you people who haven't seen it yet, the I Fingered A Skeleton video.
That's just in case you were getting any funny ideas about sneaking out before the end. We just can't have Audience Attrition. The sponsors won't stand for it. I don't quite understand why because, as all you fine people who work for the IRS and the FTC well know, all my endorsements are completely uncompensated. I do this for fun, not profit. Be that as it may, it is not my lot in life to question the wisdom of my nonpaying sponsors. Mine is but to keep them happy by retaining the audience. In this case, with video clips.
Oh, and since it is a Holiday Weekend, Fifi, my Sommelier, will have another Theme Drink for you. But before all that, we have to talk about this dream. Which I'm going to keep short and to the point because my Editor-In-Chief, Style Manual, is starting to ramble on about how this one is already getting bloated and if I think she's going to spend all night fixing it, I have another think coming. Whatever that means.
If all the brutal conciseness I'm about to lay on you disturbs or confuses you, you have two choices. You can wait until I'm dead and they release the longer, more in-depth version that's a lot easier to make sense of. Or, if you can't wait a whole nine days, you can pester me because if I get enough requests, I'll just go ahead and post the full account.
So, there are your options and now all you have to do is pick the right one. Now on with the dream. This one is set in downtown Philadelphia where for reasons unknown to me, I went to work at a bar/department store run by a mysterious guy who reminds most people, including me, of Rick Blaine.
Just as mysterious as my employer, who I never learned the name of so we'll go with the majority and just call him Rick, was his place of business. This is where the dream takes a sharp turn away from the movie it seems to be based on, because there were no gaming tables or slot machines. There wasn't even a piano.
What there was, was a dark but elegant maze of narrow corridors and and odd arrangement of tables and booths, many of which were suspended from the walls and could only be accessed by built-in ladders. Then there was Rick's private office which I never got to see but he did show me the entrance to it.
It was accessed through a trap door in the ceiling, much like the usual attic entry but beyond the trap door was a confusing and what seemed to be dangerous series of ladders that went up several stories. I asked him why he didn't just build a hidden staircase if security was an issue and convert the ladder shaft into a convenient way to get rid of unwanted visitors and Rick said, "Maybe if you were directing this picture, it would be like that but you ain't, kid."
Then the dream veered right back into Casablanca territory with Nazi's because at one point two Gestapo agents in full uniform came in. I asked them what they were doing in Philadelphia because come on, you expect to see them in Paris, Berlin and Casablanca but when was the last time you saw one in Philly? I was genuinely curious.
They told me to stop wasting their time with stupid questions and then announced that they had to come to tell me that they were going to kill me. I chuckled and said that if I had a nickel for every time the Gestapo tried to kill me, I wouldn't have to keep taking stupid jobs like this but they were more than welcome to give it their best shot.
The dream ended before I could find out if they were serious or not but maybe this will turn out to be a two-parter and I'll find out tonight. Then were the girls, many of whom looked a whole lot like Ingrid Bergman and a lot of them were wearing bright scarlet red dresses that had an unusual quality. That's just about it because like most dreams, it just faded into nothingness.
OK, now we can get to what most of you have been waiting all day for, Fifi, my Sommelier, and the Theme Drink she invented for tonight:
1 1/2 oz Gin
1/2 oz Cherry brandy
1/2 oz Madeira
1 tsp Orange juice
Shake all ingredients with ice, strain into a cocktail glass, and serve.
I tired explaining to her that this was not a nightmare because nothing scary happened but it didn't work. She's French and even though she was born almost fifty years after the end of the war, she is still genetically programmed to consider any dream where the Gestapo shows up as a nightmare. And it doesn't even have to be dreams. Every time we watch Casablanca or Inglourious Basterds, she insists on sitting on my lap so I can hold her tight through the whole thing.
Thus far, I've seen Casablanca and Inglourious Basterds a total of 342 times with her. But that's not important because now it's time to show you the song that was inspired, according to some people, by an encounter between Ann Coulter and Satan at Rush Limbaugh's house that was witnessed by either Jackie or Dunlap and here they are now with I Fingered A Skeleton:
I Fingered A Skeleton
Published on Oct 28, 2013
Red State Update's New Halloween Song! Music By William Scary Jr.
Free Download: https://soundcloud.com/travisandjonat...
And now, in conclusion, here is the immortal Rob Lowe playing the even more immortal Eddie Nero, in the scariest, creepiest scene ever from Californication. This is also for those of you who miss Hank as much as I do. The rest of you...Well, how can I put this politely? Wait, I've got it. Either you love Californication and worship Hank as a God, just like I do or you don't and you spend all your time sitting on the front porch, playing Dueling Banjos while trying to figure out new ways to seduce your sister. Some people said I couldn't do this without being insulting and degrading but HA! I did it. Now, for the clip...Oh, the Surgeon General has asked me to say that if your squeamish, you probably shouldn't watch this...here he is, Eddie Nero:
Rob Lowe in Californication - Best Scene
Published on Jan 13, 2013
Best character this season. Rob Lowe doing a Brad Pitt parody in Californication with David Duchoveny.
Current Mood: depressed
Current Music: Red State Update: Episode 40: This Ain't My First Racist Ro
|Friday, November 1st, 2013|
|It's Halloween Friday, You Bastards
I have been told, by a bunch of half-cocked knee jerk reactionaries on my staff that don't even have enough sense to come in the from the rain, that I am obsessed. That I tend to overdo Halloween. The same way Michele Bachmann overdoes End Times. The same way Lenny Bruce overdid heroin. Clearly, these people need to be locked up for their own safety as well as ours because they have no tangible relationship with reality.
They can't be locked up, of course, because they look way too good in French Maid costumes. In a perfect world, the Asylums would have padded rubber fantasy suites with over-sized king waterbeds, love swings and built-in retractable restraints along with unlimited Visiting Hours---The times you may help and comfort the inmates of mental hospitals, not the classic film from 1982 starring Captain Kirk. But sadly, that is not the world we live in.
And the last thing I need is to argue with Nurse Ratched at four in the morning over Visiting Hours---Because not only has she not seen the classic film starring Captain Kirk from 1982, she also has no idea about when and how mental patients need to be comforted. The other last thing I don't need is to have to explain to the likes of you that I am not the crazy one here.
But I have to, anyway, because that is what the world we do live in dictates. A bunch of insane people say you're off your rocker and then some other unstable people repeat it and bam! The next thing you know, you're guilty until proven innocent. And your own lawyer won't help until after you've won because she doesn't want to endanger her image by representing someone who's bonkers. Compared to me, John Yossarian lived in an ideal paradise of perfect logic and reason.
But instead of burdening you with my woes and complaining about how unfair the world is to me, I'm simply going to fix this problem. That will also show all you punk kids how much more grown-up and mature I am than you. It's going to be a painful lesson. I'm not going to lie about that. If it were up to me, I'd make it easy on you but since nothing is up to me this is what we're stuck with.
That's why I have to pretend like it's not the Friday after Halloween and act like it's just some ordinary Friday and skip the spine tingling all true tales of terror I was going to tell you and act like Halloween is no big deal. That I can take it or leave it. Just so you and the other crazy people will know that I'm not obsessed.
So, fine. You want an ordinary, run of the mill, boring Friday and that's exactly what you're going to get. I'm going to tell you about the dream I had last night. Don't get me wrong. Dreams are awesome. They just aren't usually very Haloweeny and this will probably help you Dream Researchers out there but you didn't come here tonight to talk shop and all I can say is that you can blame it on the hysterical crazy people who say I have a problem.
The one bright spot is that Suzette, my Chef De Cuisine and Chief Executive Vice President In Charge Of Domestic Bliss, is in it, so that automatically classifies it as a nightmare. Otherwise, it wasn't very scary. It was just a typical real life event being played out in the night when I should have been free of typical real life events.
We were in Tel Aviv, at her favorite bar in the Middle East, Par Derrier. I wanted to go the Bursa Club (http://boursaclub.co.il/english/
) so we could immerse ourselves in the local culture but no. We had to go where we always go, to the place that reminds her of France. It don't make no sense to me, either, cause if you want be in France, why didn't we just go to the Paris Las Vegas Hotel and Casino? Why do the most simple minded have to make life so absurd?
I stopped trying to figure it out a long time ago and if you're smart, you'll do the same. Just accept the fact that the inmates run everything and I'll get on with telling you about this dream. I was sitting there, next to Suzette, trying to make the best of a bad situation, trying to order a bottle of Boones Farm Fruit Flavored Strawberry Hill, 2013. And finding out that despite the millions of times I have asked them to carry it, they still don't.
I don't want to come off as a wine snob, because I'm not. It's just that I'm from America and we have standards. And I can't even blame Suzette this time for her ignorance that didn't help the situation at all. Lord knows she has more mental problems than you can shake a stick at but when it comes to wine, you have to remember that she was born in Paris (The one in France, not the good one in Las Vegas, where they know about fine wine) and therefore can't be held accountable for her complete lack of knowledge on the subject.
I try to educate her but there's only so much I can do. I also tried to educate the waiter but he was a dead end street, too. I don't know where he's from but I'll bet you a million dollars right now he wasn't born in California. Both of them kept acting like there was something wrong with me so I just ordered a beer and asked to speak to the manager. Again.
Then Suzette began her usual rambling mindless speech that she always uses at times like this that always begins, "Why do you always insist on embarrassing me every time we go to a place where you don't order through a clowns head?" Yes. She always thinks she's the one who's being embarrassed. You can add selfish and self-centered to her lengthy list of faults if you haven't already.
And that reminded me that Par Derrier needs a Dollar Menu, too, so I added that to the list of things I was going to speak to the manager about. And would it kill their Chef to learn how to make Triple Bacon Cheeseburgers? Anyway, I never got a chance to straighten that restaurant out because the next thing that happened was the waiter came back. But he didn't have my beer with him.
He was pushing a big dessert cart that didn't have any desserts on it. Not that you can get Chocolate Lava Cake there anyway but that's kind of one of the minor things wrong with that place and it's kind of beside the point anyway. What is a little more to the point is that that cart was loaded to the gills with assault rifles.
He was passing them out to all the patrons and asking them to go out into the street and please shoot all the Egyptians, Syrians and Russians they could. Yeah. It seems that while I was doing all I could for world peace by trying yet again to bring Boones Farm Fruit Flavored Strawberry Hill to the downtrodden and deprived masses, World War War III broke out anyway.
I know, I know. Sometimes major wars break out when your stuck in Israel because Suzette didn't want to go anywhere fun like Las Vegas, trying to teach the two dumbest people in the world about wine, that's just life and I usually take it in stride, too. But this time I had had enough, so I just got up and walked out.
I suppose it's a good thing cause otherwise I'd be able to tell you who won and then you'd just accuse me of spoiling World War III for you. I also know that some of you are nervous now because you believe that dreams do tell the future sometimes but I can't help you with that, either. I have no idea if this dream has any chance of being precognitive or not.
I'm not like you. I don't know anything about politics and the global balance of power. I'm just a greeting cards salesman who barely has access to the Nuclear Codes and I don't get to Cairo, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv (You'd think Jerusalem would be enough but no. All the embassies are in Tel Aviv so I have to make two stops), Damascus, Moscow and Washington more than three or four times a month. Usually.
You probably even know where to find Boones Farm Fruit Flavored Strawberry Hill in Damascus so you're the one who should be helping me, not the other way around. The one thing I can do for you, now that last night's nightmare is out of the way...Oh, now that I have conclusively proven that I am not obsessed with Halloween, I will add a scary element. When I woke up, Suzette was still there, right there beside me.
The only problem with that is that when she's asleep and barely dressed, she doesn't look scary at all. Well, for that matter, she never looks scary but she sure acts scary when she's awake. I've never been quite able to figure out exactly how or why it works that way but if I ever do, you'll be the first to know.
In the meantime, I'll bring out Fifi, my Sommelier...She was born in France, too, and knows nothing about wine and that's why God, in His infinite wisdom chose to make her a Sommelier...so she can introduce the Theme Drink she invented for tonight and you can start drinking away your fears about World War III and the difficulty in finding Boones Farm Fruit Flavored Strawberry Hill outside the States:
World War III Fizz
2 oz Gin
Juice of 1/2 Lemon
1 tsp Powdered sugar
Shake gin, juice of lemon, and powdered sugar with ice and strain into a highball glass over two ice cubes. Fill with chilled champagne, stir, and serve.
And now, since you're still in a Middle Eastern state of mind, let's play a round or two of Binders Full Of Girls In Burqas And Nothing Else. It won't stop the coming war...Um, I mean the war that may or may not come...but it will take your mind off things for a while.
Current Mood: depressed
Current Music: Coast To Coast AM---George Noory, WOC AM 1420
|Thursday, October 31st, 2013|
|It's Halloween, You Bastards
Yesterday, I scared the bejesus out of Liberals and the few odd Conservatives who have a highly repressed, deeply buried but still still there sense of human decency, by talking about the elected official who wants to bring back slavery (http://www.rgj.com/article/20131030/NEWS19/310300057/Nevada-Assemblyman-Jim-Wheeler-downplays-slavery-comment
) and today I want to do the same for all the ordinary Conservatives. The huge majority who have no sense of human decency at all.
You would think I could achieve that easily by talking about individual issues like abortion and marriage equality. They are still winning some battles on those fronts but the war is lost. Even in areas where they are doing really well at the moment, places like voter suppression, they are going to lose. It's going to take some time and lots of innocent people are going to suffer before the surrender papers are finally signed but everyone knows the rich old white conservative guys are going to lose. It just might not happen in your lifetime. And there I go, scaring Liberals again.
That's bad for me because I promised my Agent, Drusilla, a minimum of 1000 funny, yet terrifying words that will scare someone and since I targeted the Liberals yesterday, only the Conservatives are left. Actually, Dru would like me to produce 2000 words or more because she's really anxious to publish my next collection of blog posts and while I've written way more than enough posts for one book since the last one came out, she claims that I have to write several million words before she has enough material to edit into one usable book. But she's smart enough to know to quit while she's ahead so she's happy with anywhere from 800-5000 words every day. On average. Well, "happy" isn't quite the right word but it's close enough.
I can't wait until she's dead and I can just do what I want. Some people, the ones that Stanton Friedman so aptly describes as
Noisy Negativists, say that will never happen because she's a soulless, bloodsucking, immortal Vampire but do I let them get me down? No. Because I know that all things are possible because I maintain a happy, upbeat, positive, CAN DO attitude. I know that any day now, she's going to walk in here and announce, "I am no longer going to bother and harass you to do your job because I'm dead now. Or more dead than I already was. It's kind of complicated and I don't even understand it myself so just forget all this tedious writing that does nothing but make me money and let's go see if Buffy and Faith are up for a foursome."
Have I ever told you about Buffy and Faith? They're my bodyguards and they do a great job. I get over ten-thousand death threats everyday. Most of them come from my Secretary, Chief Executive Vice Vice In Charge Of Domestic Bliss and Chef De Cuisine, Sommelier, Agent, Editor-In-Chief and the rest of my staff along with the occasional disgruntled/confused/bored fan or member of the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy That's Out To Get Me but out of all that unwarranted hate focused directly on me, very few of them make it past Buffy and Faith and actually kill me.
On the rare occasions when they make it past my Slayers, my personal physician, Dr. Morticia Strangelove, just takes my bloody, lifeless corpse down to the lab and reanimates it. And she's not even upset about it because she says, at my age, she'd have to do it three or four times a week anyway. That number is expected to double if Buffy and Faith ever decide to kill me by agreeing to have foursomes with me and Dru and I'm sure that will be any day now but that still doesn't feed the bulldog.
Right now, I'm still stuck with coming up with a way to scare Conservatives and I can't do it by telling them what they already know. I mean, sometimes that works but not in this case. They've already accepted defeat and are just trying to run up the body count as high as possible so they won't die completely alone, while at the same time praying that one of their doomed Kamikaze missions scores a big enough hit to pull out a surprise miracle victory because it would be Unchristian to leave God out of the equation and simply pointing that out to them is not going to scare them.
About the only choice I have is to rip the scab off a recent wound and rub salt in it by tauntingly shouting the battle cry they were so sure was going to carry them to victory last year, "Benghazi, y'all!" It's not new but it is dependable. Nothing strikes as much fear, resentment and good old fashioned spine tingling terror directly into the hearts of rich old white guys than, "Benghazi, y'all!"
For good measure, I'll say it again. "Benghazi, y'all!" The battle cry that sent a Black man to the Oval Office. For the second time in a row! Maybe sometime in the near future, they'll use it again and we can get a pro-abortion Gay Black woman in the White House. God, this is so much fun that I don't want to stop but I have to because I have a special surprise group of people that I want to scare next: The Skeptics.
I Googled Pam Ragland this morning and noticed that she still has not been arrested for having something to do with the murder of Terry Smith, even though that's what the evidence suggests because she led the police directly to his body. And the only Skeptical explanation I can find is the same one I found in July when it happened: She's just a really good guesser or it was a big coincidence because there is no such thing as Psychic Powers (http://www.slate.com/blogs/crime/2013/07/15/pam_ragland_terry_smith_no_psychics_can_t_help_murder_victims.html
And all you Skeptics will continue to claim that no Psychic ever helped the police even though this is far from the only case but deep down inside you'll know that Pam Ragland did it and your explanations are about as sound as Paul Ryan's "Budget." And you will be afraid. Because you know that the things you don't want to exist because they turn your world upside down are real after all. And just in case that's not enough to shake you to your foundation, I want to show you this: Florida man hits the lottery jackpot — again (http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/10/31/21261252-florida-man-hits-the-lottery-jackpot-again?lite
How do you explain all these people who keep winning big lotto jackpots when the mathematicians say it's essentially impossible? How long can you keep telling yourself that it's dumb luck when you know that something else has to be involved? Something like time travel or Psychic Powers or maybe even some sort of Divine Intervention. I don't believe in God either but Supreme Beings make a million times more sense than your lame non-explanations.
Muahahahahahahahahaha! I hope that translated into print OK but just in case it didn't, it's a big, hearty evil laugh. And now that everyone, Liberals, Conservatives and Skeptics have been scared witless, I'm gonna show that there are no hard feelings by bringing out Fifi, my Sommelier, with tonight's Theme Drink.
Well, some of you might get a hard feeling when you see her costume but it ain't my fault you have a one track mind. You could really use some Churchin' Up but that can wait, cause right now, you gotta try the Theme Drink that Fifi invented for tonight:
Psychics' Halloween Punch
1 oz White rum
1 oz Dark rum
1/2 oz Kahlua
2 scoops Vanilla ice-cream
2 Strawberries, fresh
Place ingredients in blender, mix until even consistency. Usually made in a large batch using above ratios and served punch style at parties. Add red food coloring until it looks like blood.
Now, since this is the biggest, funnest night of the year, let's get right to tonight's Featured Party Game: Binders Full Of Sexy Gypsy Fortune Tellers With Psychic Powers. The rules are pretty simple. Rub her crystal ball and see what happens. Belief is optional. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420
|Wednesday, October 30th, 2013|
|It's Halloween Eve, You Bastards
Nevada tea party Republican: ‘Yeah, I would’ vote to bring back slavery
By David Ferguson
Tuesday, October 29, 2013 9:45 EDT
A Republican Nevada state assemblyman said that he would vote for legislation in favor of slavery if his constituents wanted him to. According to the Las Vegas Sun, Jim Wheeler of Gardnerville, NV was speaking to the Storey County Republican Party when he made the remarks last August, although they are only now coming to light.
“If that’s what they wanted, I’d have to hold my nose, I’d have to bite my tongue and they’d probably have to hold a gun to my head, but yeah, if that’s what the citizens of the, if that’s what the constituency wants that elected me, that’s what they elected me for,” he said. “That’s what a republic is about.”
Now, Wheeler said to the Sun, “liberal operatives” are spreading the video in an effort to smear him.http://www.rawstory.com/rs/2013/10/29/nevada-tea-party-republican-yeah-i-would-vote-to-bring-back-slavery/
Greetings from the Queasy Cities (http://www.visitquadcities.com/
)! I know "Queasy Cities" is kind of lame but I'm not lucky enough to live in MurfreesBOOro or Amityville so I just did the best I could. The good thing is that I don't think it's going to affect the quality of our massive Halloween Eve Party blowout, which I guess we can start right now since you're finally here.
First, though, I have to remind you that if you're a longtime, dedicated, hardcore horror junkie, this isn't the place for you. We're gonna do our best to scare you out of your socks but we can't compete with the Tea Party, as evidenced by the above story. Freddie and Jason can't compete with people who enjoy starving kids and old people and want to bring back slavery. The IRS can't compete with that.
So, if you need more than ordinary gore, blood, murder, monsters and mayhem to get a tingle up your spine, go hang out with the Tea Party. Tell them I sent you. Then, tell my #1 Favorite Local Conservative Crackpot (http://www.woc1420.com/pages/JimFisher.html
) and my #! Favorite National Conservative Crackpot (http://www.dennismillerradio.com/
) that I will stop calling them racist the minute they stop supporting things like bringing back slavery.
That's my Halloween gift to them. I know it isn't scary but it will annoy them because they hate being called racist and annoyance is the best I can do, cause, like I said, I'm from the Queasy Cities. And I can hear Dennis shouting right now, "SHUT UP!!!!! Quit polluting my fantasy world with inconvenient facts! Especially ones about pro-slavery Republicans! Don't you understand that I have invested everything I have in these people for God's sake? If the rich old white men lose, I'm ruined! Make them look good!" And that makes it all worth it.
He'll probably even call me a Liberal Operative and when he does, tell him I like that title. A lot. I'm going to put it on my business card. I might even put it on my tombstone. Right after the holiday. I'd do it now but my Business Card/Tombstone supplier charges double time and a half for working on holidays and she, just like the rest of us, has proclaimed Halloween Eve a holiday.
So, from this moment forward, I command thee, of all thee, my loyal subjects, to call me, "Your excellency, King Liberal Operative I." Or just LO, for short if you want. Just don't make a big deal out of it cause I don't want some agitator in the Liberal Drive-By Media to get wind of it and wrongly accuse me of being a hypocrite because I just dissed Dennis Miller for supporting slavery and then turned right around and reminded you that I own you. And you don't want to go to the dungeon for disobeying me. On Capital Hill, this what we call a Perfect Compromise.
And quit whining about me owning you. This isn't any picnic for me, either, you know. Do you realize that every year I have to fill out a special tax form just to declare you Obsolete/Defective/Nonworking Inventory? I could go on but since I just played the Tax Headache card, I have to stop or risk getting accused of bullying you, just like that high school football coach (Texas high school coach cleared of 'bullying' after football team wins 91-0: http://www.nydailynews.com/sports/high-school/high-school-football-coach-cleared-bullying-losing-squad-article-1.1495421#ixzz2jCyUP9xB
Why can't you just relax and enjoy the party like a normal person instead of endlessly trying to blame me for all the bad choices you made that forced God to legally make you my possession (I know you lawyers out there want to see the specific statute so here it is: “Let your bondmen, and your bondwomen, be of the nations that are round about you” [§ Leviticus 25:44] )? I'm not any happier with God than you are. He gave Hannibal to Peter the Great as a slave and I get you? When was the last time you conquered the known world for me? Never? If anyone around here has a right to whine and cry about the way this went down, it's me, not you. But you don't see complaining, do you?
You know what your problem is? You don't understand freedom. You have the God given freedom to be owned by me and you should just start making the best of it. That's enough educational content for one party, so maybe, tomorrow, if you're good, I'll explain capitalism to you.
The one thing I am grateful for is that you have driven me to drink. Especially on Halloween Eve. Hopefully, with enough alcohol, I'll be able to forget the way you're trying to turn this celebration of gore, murder and mayhem into a pity party. Just because you don't like being a slave. Selfish much?
I really wish the Royal Flogger was on duty today but since she isn't, we'll just have to make do with Fifi, the Royal Sommelier and the Theme Drink she's invented for today:
Halloween Eve Shooter
Midori melon liqueur
Mix with ice and strain in tall shot glass.
You'll notice, if you're not already too drunk to read, that there are no quantities in the instructions. I asked Fifi about that and she said it's flexible for a reason. Some people, she explained, have normal bosses and will only need a shot or two of everything while other people work for people like me and will need a whole bottle or more of each ingredient.
Do you want to buy a slightly used Sommelier with an attitude problem? Oh, right. You're already a slave so you're in no position to be buying people. And you're not even smart enough to realize how lucky you are. Are you starting to understand the giant headaches I have to live with everyday? But, yet again, I'm just going to brush aside all my heartaches and miseries as if they never existed in the first place like I always do and make your day even better than it already was by introducing tonight's Featured Party Game: Binders Full Of Halloween Eve Eve's.
Yes, there are more thrilling costumes than Eve but this is a nod to history and tradition. Have you kids ever heard the story of the first Halloween? Well, Adam and Eve were sitting there in the Garden Of Eden one day when the Serpent slithered in said and asked them if they wanted to go to a Halloween Party. Adam said they didn't know what Halloween was and the snake said that was because he had just invented it and then he explained the concept to them.
Adam and Eve heard and they saw it would be a good party so they said yes. The only problem was that there weren't any stores at that time. Well, there was a Walmart but it was all the way on the other side of town so Adam and Eve said, "Screw it. We'll just go as we are. Maybe next year, we'll get costumes."
It turns out that the snake owned the Walmart and he was awful mad because the only reason he invented Halloween was to make a little extra money. You can't really blame him, cause Christmas wasn't going to be invented for another few thousand years, so what else was he supposed to do? Anyway, he got so mad that his Featured Party Game at that first Halloween was Bobbing For Forbidden Apples and I suppose you've heard about what happened after that. The moral of the story is that if you girls want to be historically accurate, take off your costume and come as Eve. OK, that's all I need from you. Wait. Go teach the Romans the meaning of fear and make sure they know that when I order a pizza, I want it here in 30 minutes or less. Or else. Then you can come back to the Halloween Eve Party. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Coast To Coast AM---George Noory, WOC AM 1420
|Tuesday, October 29th, 2013|
|If A Lake In Downtown Detroit Evaporated, This'd Be What's Left
Two more celebrities have decided to take advantage of the annual Halloween...Or Samhain, if you're of the Celtic, Scottish, Irish, Manx, Neopagan, Wiccan or Gaelic persuasion...thinning of the veil between the living and the dead which shortens the journey to the other side and, due to the increased number of tourists, lessens the chances of some idiot Customs Officer telling them, "Sorry. You can't take it with you. All of this is going to have to go back," by casting off this mortal coil and getting out while the getting is good.
And I could spend the rest of forever telling you about Lou Reed (http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-207_162-57609498/lou-reed-longtime-influential-rock-star-dead-at-71/
) and Hal Needham (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/10/27/hal-needham-dead-director-stuntman-dies-death_n_4167617.html
)...Or I could if you didn't have your own date already etched in the stone tablet the Grim Reaper uses as his appointment book---Really, it's an iPad but it's a custom edition that looks just like a stone tablet and if you thought you're ex was bad about sending pictures of you that you don't want anyone to see, well, just a word to the wise, try not to die on the toilet if you don't want everyone in the world to see it cause the Grim Reaper makes your ex look like a Saint when it comes to sending all his friends pictures that you think should be private---and I could tell you exactly when it is and whether you should be measuring your remaining time in seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years or decades but I know how you kids are about Spoilers so I ain't saying nothing...about how cool it was being Andy Warhol's house band and Walk On The Wild Side and Smokey And The Bandit and The Cannonball Run but why should I risk being called insensitive for ruining your Halloween, which is only two days away now, by talking about real live dead people?
So I'm going to magnanimously turn the whole shebang over to Jackie & Dunlap, who have managed to come up with the best, most scary Halloween Podcast you're gonna hear all day. If you have enough time left to listen to it, but don't worry, I'm not going to spoil the surprise. That fluttering you feel in your chest right now might just be nervous anticipation or it could be a blood clot that's going to stop your heart in the next minute or so and thanks to me, you won't know which it is until you start going down that long tunnel towards the light or just end up wetting your pants due to an excess of fear and excitement. You're welcome.
First, though, I want to remind all you jaded English Majors out there, those of you who need more than Jackie & Dunlap to get scared, that I haven't forgotten you. All you have to do is scroll up and take another look at the first two sentences, which are also the first two paragraphs. Take a good, long, hard look at them. Now, diagram them.
That might seem a little over-the-top diabolical but what were were you expecting from me two days before Halloween? Just remember, when they drive you to hide under the bed, pull your hair out and guzzle ulcer medications while saying The Lord's Prayer over and over to kill time while you wait for the Exorcism Hotline to get free, that it helps to keep repeating, "It's only a blog. It's only a blog. It's only a blog."
Now that my brief preamble of an opening act is over, it's time to turn the stage over to the Masters Of Horror, Jackie & Dunlap. Right after I give you a word or two of advice about Halloween Romance. And don't think I'm just taking up more of your valuable time that you be spending listening to Jackie's Goat Poem. If you have to blame someone, blame ObamaCare because I am not just the World's Most Respected Radio, Podcast And Television Critic. I am also God's Greatest Gift To Romance Since Dr. Ruth, and as such, I am legally obligated to tell you...The same way I would be legally obligated to save your life if I was certified in CPR when that blood clot stops your heart here in a minute or so...that if you are planning on proposing to your sweetheart today, and why wouldn't you because this is the most romantic time of the year, you should wait a little bit and do it while I Fingered A Skeleton is softly playing in the background.
It's as if Dr. Frankenstein took Frank Sinatra and Alice Cooper into his lab and out of them created a Super Hybrid Monster Singer with a perfect voice and a flair for the macabre and named him, Dunlap. In short, this song, I Fingered A Skeleton, is going to scare you right out of your pants and at the same time make you glad that all those meddling clothes are out of the way because it's also going to put you in the mood.
Take it from me, because I'm an expert in these matters, there's no better way to start an eternal union between two souls than with a scary song that also turns you on and quickly gets rid of your clothes in the process. It is efficiency personified. With a catchy beat. But it don't stop there. From that moment forward, every time you hear I Fingered A Skeleton, you'll gaze into each others eyes and say, "They're playing our song."
Of course, you might be asked to leave the premises every time they play it at Walmart because they have a strict pants policy but that's a small price to pay for a lifetime of love, security, happiness and a song that scares your pants off. OK, I think I have fully or at least adequately discharged all my legal obligations, so here is Jackie & Dunlap with the best, most scary Halloween Podcast Event you're gonna hear all day:
Episode 50: Old Fashioned Spooky Time Halloween!
Published on Oct 28, 2013
Join Jackie and Dunlap for a good ol' old fashioned Halloween podcast, with spooky stories, scary games, and hair-raising songs. Be sure and turn off your lights, put on a blindfold, or set in a closet. Featuring Jackie's poem "The Haunted Goat", plus the songs "The Day The Monsters Came To Church And Got Saved" and "I Fingered A Skeleton." Sponsered by Tee Tee Slott's Horror House and the Third Baptist Pentecostal Church of Holliness God's Anti-Halloween Lock-In
If ya'll like this podcast, we sure would preciate you goin to iTunes and downloadin, ratin, and subscribin. Or listen at
http://redstateupdate.libsyn.com/webpage . Thank ya kindly!
Holtzclaw: Chili Room/Pussy Room
CD Baby: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/holtzclaw3
Current Mood: depressed
Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420
|Monday, October 28th, 2013|
|Welcome To Atlantic City
The big news today is Lou Reed and Hal Needham but they are going to have to, regrettably, wait until tomorrow, after we've cleared the most recent current events from 1924 (Boardwalk Empire Season 4 Episode 44: The Old Ship Of Zion http://www.hbo.com/boardwalk-empire#/boardwalk-empire/episodes/04/44-the-old-ship-of-zion/synopsis.html
) off the docket. And we may as well start with Hurricane Sally, which just blew in from Florida.
Yes, Ms Wheet has entered the building and has been officially welcomed to Atlantic City. We also got to see her Hush Puppies...Don't get excited, it's not exactly what you think. I guess I should issue a SPOILER ALERT in case you haven't seen it yet but I think I can avoid it by just saying her Hush Puppies taste great.
That should also hose down your raging hormonal wild fire and put you in a lukewarm, Nucky-like state of non-arousal. Right up until the moment when Mickey Doyle gets on your nerves by trying to seduce Sally. That, of course, was the best moment of the night. When Nucky took back Eddie's cane and busted Mickey over the head with it.
Not that Mickey especially deserved it for what he was doing at the moment, because he really didn't. What he really deserved it for was all the idiotic and dangerously stupid things he has done in the past and this was sort of a Karmic debt balloon payment that just happened to come due when he wasn't actually doing anything wrong.
It's sort of like when Elvis spanked Jenny Maxwell in Blue Hawaii...No wait, she ran off in the middle of the night and got everyone nervous and scared and tried to drown herself so E did have a good reason. So just pretend that she didn't run away and didn't jump in the ocean and Elvis just suddenly got fed up with all her previously bad and obnoxious behavior when she wasn't actually doing anything wrong and the whole metaphor works perfectly.
Unless you consider hitting on the boss's girlfriend while he's standing right there as doing something wrong. Even though the boss was showing little to zero interest in her. You have to remember, though, that we're talking about Mickey Doyle here. What would count as a dumb move for a normal person only counts as a neutral move for him.
Of course, the real bottom line is that the whole Mickey Doyle character would work a whole lot better if it was a girl who looks like Jenny Maxwell cause it would more than explain how she keeps getting away with murder. Still, it was entertaining to see Nucky finally get moved to the point of senseless violence. Even though it would have been a whole lot more fun if Mickey was a girl named Mickie, who looks like Jenny Maxwell. In 1961.
I'm not going to nitpick over that, though. The prevailing wisdom says that we'd all be bored if everything was perfect...Which prompts me to ask, "Why then do so many people play the lottery when they aren't busy wishing that things like poverty, disease and racism would just end and then they want to go to Heaven when they die?" But my confusion over why so many people want to be bored is beside the point.
Honestly, I'm not a whole lot smarter than Mickey, so I don't have a whole lot of room to talk here. Except I wouldn't hit on Sally when Nucky's standing right there. And I wouldn't have stolen Eddie's cane. And I wouldn't hit Willie and then give him and his little college friends a whole case of whiskey and just hoped that nothing bad would happen. So, OK, maybe I am a whole lot smarter than Mickey but that still ain't nothing to write home about.
So, I, just like you, have to just have faith that someone somewhere had a good reason to make Mickey a boy instead of a girl and someday it will all be made clear to us. And in the meantime, maybe we'll get lucky and see Nucky beat him up a few more times. Or maybe we'll even get luckier than that and see Daughter Maitland a whole lot more naked.
Daughter had an eventful, somewhat surprising week, too. She set up Chalky to be killed but at the last minute, the spooky Stockholm Syndrome hold that Dr. Valentin Narcisse has over her evaporated and she killed Dunn Purnsley before he could finish off Chalky. That means that she's not going to be able to return to Harlem anytime soon but that's OK, because did we ever see her naked there?
At least with her living in Atlantic City and being protected by Chalky, we have a chance of seeing her naked again. Maybe he'll even have her live with the Onyx Girls and we'll finally get to see more of them, too. But, if you could get your mind out of the gutter and off of nude women for one minute, there's lot's of other stuff we need to talk about.
Like the fact that Dr. Valentin Narcisse has always been a little bit like Orson Welles but last night he was a lot like Orson. Because he wrote, produced and directed a play that the audience really didn't get and then just to make things worse, Chalky showed up and staged an Off Broadway production of This One Called, Harlem By Torchlight.
The star of that play was Valentin's heroin. I don't want to give too much away but I will say it was a fiery performance. Then there's the continuing saga of Willie. He now has a real job, in Mayor Bader's office. His primary duty is keeping Nucky informed of what's going on at City Hall. So he's sort of like Daughter, Gaston and Warren now. Except he works for the good guys.
And now Warren is pulling the Eddie trick on Eli and I suppose they can kill Eli off cause Lord knows it wouldn't be the first time they killed off an important character and as recently as just last night, lot's of us expected Chalky to die but I think it's way more likely that Eli is going to come up with a way to get rid of Warren. Until I see it with my own eyes, I refuse to believe that one show can have two characters that are as lucky as Mickey Doyle.
And that pretty much does it for this week. Except for the usual reminder that Nucky really needs a competent assistant, cause he can't keep doing both his and Eddie's jobs forever. Preferably a girl who looks and acts like Jenny Maxwell. And next week, which will be show right after Halloween should have a scary element, so maybe Richard will have another experience with supernatural beings? Or Nucky or Al or someone will see a ghost? Anyway, whatever they pick, I'm sure it'll be good and scary. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420