Traitor

I practically gave away the keys to the kingdom yesterday. For this I might get branded, drawn and quartered, and sent to the fishes.

A couple of women at work talked about their spouses, boyfriends, and fathers on how they complain. Commercials come on television and the men charge that the company is conspiring and lying to the viewer. One buys a new vehicle, and after a couple of weeks begins to understand that it isn’t quite what he was sold… and he let loose a torrent of vulgarity. (I wish I could have heard it!) Things break, complain! Someone’s late, complain! Favorite show gets canceled, complain! Favorite show doesn’t get canceled but goes from good to terrible, massive complaining! Your team falls apart in the last few minutes, EPIC COMPLAINING!!!

They just couldn’t fathom how the guys would complain so much. The women told them to knock it off, and were then surprised with the guys were shocked.

Here is my betrayal.


I told them that we love to complain. Christ, I live in Minnesota… I complain every winter, in spite of the fact that I like it. Hell, I love it!

I didn't even realize I had revealed such precious information until well after it had tumbled out of my mouth.

In my defense, I got her to admit they women love to complain, too… so maybe in the interest of détente the two of us will get let free with a slap on the wrist.

Why Such a Cold Winter? Praise for G.W.

Theory: This winter is so snowy and cold because it's freezing in Hell.

Check it out, a Hillary Clinton fan blogs appreciation and thanks to President Bush and First Lady Laura Bush.

;)

...we will always be grateful for what George and Laura Bush did this week, with no media attention, when they very quietly went to Ft. Hood and met personally with the families of the victims of this terrorist attack.

FOR HOURS.

The Bushes went and met privately with these families for HOURS, hugging them, holding them, comforting them.

If there are any of you out there with any connection at all to the Bushes, we implore you to give them our thanks…you tell them that a bunch of gay Hillary guys in Boystown, Chicago were wrong about the Bushes…and are deeply, deeply sorry for any jokes we told about them in the past, any bad thoughts we had about these good, good people.

You may be as surprised by this as we are ourselves, but from this day forward George W. and Laura Bush are now on the same list for us as the Clintons, Geraldine Ferraro, Stephanie Tubbs Jones, and the other political figures we keep in our hearts and never allow anyone to badmouth.

Criticize their policies academically and intelligently and discuss the Bush presidency in historical and political terms…but you mess with the Bushes personally and, from this day forward, you’ll answer to us.

We hope someday to be able to thank George W. and Laura in person for all they’ve done, and continue to do. They didn’t have to head to Ft. Hood. That was not their responsibility.

Scrounge around a little, you'll see the author isn't quite what you'd expect from a Hillary supporter... but more importantly you'll understand why "Sometimes the Universe Brings You the Wrong French Toast". Go ahead... check the link. It's a great, personal story about how easy it is to simply accept some of those little accidents that occur. Sometimes an honest mistake isn't a travesty of justice.

Not only that, in a way your reaction can define who you are.

Vicious and Brutal, but Not a Terrorist

And Elvis is in Joan Rivers, but he's trying to get out, man.
- Mojo Nixon


If an extremist Islamic terrorist jackass was on an airline, like the Northwest flight on Christmas, who would you want on the flight to help subdue the dirtbag?

A sky marshall?
A courageous passenger?
Agent Jack Bauer?
Joan Rivers?

Personally, I'd want all three... but the reason I would want Joan Rivers, the queen of no-holds-barred quips, is to have her berate, ridicule, and embarass the son of a bitch. It should be part of the punishment for Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab... public vilification by a brassy Jewish woman from New York.

Broadcast the video live on a pay-per-view channel and video-on-demand online. Sell DVDs. Transmit it for free to Yemen. Send those Al-Qaeda jackasses free copies.

Then after that, perhaps folks won't consider her a suspicious passenger.

(Who in the eff was working as the gate agent, Heidi Abramowitz?)

What's Wrong With a Little Cold?

Nothing... that's what's wrong with it.

That's why we have socks... multiple layers of socks, if you like. Not to mention undershirts, long underwear, gloves, hats, scarves, ear muffs, jackets, and fires.

I can't handle the sharp, fierce wind, though. But other than that, a little cold ain't so bad.

My son took to it very well so he could try skating. He wasn't frustrated at repeatedly falling down... in fact, he rather enjoyed slipping on his ass. He also learned to get up quite well, as well as shuffle along on skates. Me? Oh, no. Not yet, anyway. I didn't have the right clothes, much less skates... but soon I'll take to the ice.

This reminds me of my only attempt at ice skating. You'd think a kid who grew up in the state of Minnesota would have at least given it more than one try. I was within fifteen miles of the spot where the boy was falling on his can... some thirty-three or maybe thirty-five years before. I was very discouraged at not being able to consistently get on my feet, much less balance, and I gave up. In fact, I started digging the back of my skate into the ice like a pain in the ass.

All I wanted was a cup of hot chocolate, and perhaps to be home in front of the television. Not that anything was on.

Maybe a little cross country skiing this coming weekend, if not an attempt on the rink.