By now you’ve seen it all and the blogs are buzzing about the convention, so I’ll just link to our Montana guv, Brian Schweitzer. Unless you switched over to C-SPAN you missed him, so check it out on Youtube..
Fun fact: when a reporter commented that he was getting a prime spot on the speaking schedule, right before Hillary, he poo-pooed the notion that he was becoming a party bigwig: “Shucks, everyone who ever shot a gopher’s speaking at this thing.” And from the local paper, when asked about getting the crowd revved up: “Some of these other folks are used to speechifyin' in front of the bigshots, and everybody sits on their hind end. If you're gonna win an election, you need people involved.” Yes, he really talks like that.
All in all, the Democratic convention will be a hell of an act to follow. Top five predictions for the Republican convention:
5. John McCain spotted wandering around the upper class part of town with a fistful of keys, trying various doors and muttering, “I was sure I owned a house here somewhere.”
4. The vigorous vetting process for the VP slot: “We finally found someone who hasn’t been indicted!”
3. The most popular photo op: take a picture of your “stance” in the Larry Craig stall at the Mpls. airport.
2. Cindy McCain’s speech about family
values, transportation, real estate, health care, and how elitist those rich stuck-up Obamas are.
1. Bitterness, acrimony and in-fighting – and that’s just among the MSNBC anchors.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
Last week’s mail contained a familiar-looking envelope from the county courthouse. I’m always in the friggin’ jury pool. Top five ways to get out of jury duty:
5. “Sorry I’m late, your honor. I had trouble getting my tin foil hat through the metal detector.”
4. “We’re supposed to vote guilty or not guilty? I thought we were supposed to vote hot or not hot.”
3. “Of course I can be objective. It’s those stupid aliens from Zontar who keep beaming ‘guilty!’ into my brain.”
2. “No offense to the defendant, but I’m saving myself for the trial of the next indicted Congressman.”
1. “I can’t spare the time until after the election. I’m the campaign manager for the next president of the United States.”
5. “Sorry I’m late, your honor. I had trouble getting my tin foil hat through the metal detector.”
4. “We’re supposed to vote guilty or not guilty? I thought we were supposed to vote hot or not hot.”
3. “Of course I can be objective. It’s those stupid aliens from Zontar who keep beaming ‘guilty!’ into my brain.”
2. “No offense to the defendant, but I’m saving myself for the trial of the next indicted Congressman.”
1. “I can’t spare the time until after the election. I’m the campaign manager for the next president of the United States.”
Friday, August 8, 2008
Paris for President
Paris Hilton?
Yeah, like we’d elect a vapid moron whose laughable “qualifications” are limited to being born into a wealthy and powerful family. Someone with embarrassing videos all over the internet. Someone apparently incapable of the most basic intellectual activities, like reading and understanding.
Then again, when it comes to stupid reasons to vote for someone, maybe self-proclaimed hotness is the new “I'd like to have a beer with that guy.” What the hell – top five highlights of a Paris Hilton presidency:
5. “I don’t know about, you know, presidential platforms and stuff, but I’m totally in favor of platform shoes.”
4. Office of the Vice President renamed to Office of My BFF.
3. The hair-pulling catfight between Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears over who gets the new cabinet post of “Secretary of Skankitude.”
2. Immediate extraordinary rendition with extreme prejudice for everyone who panned her performance in “House of Wax.” Which would be everyone who reviewed “House of Wax.” Or saw “House of Wax.”
1. The embarrassing press conference where she talks about her positions on offshore drilling before Helen Thomas clarifies, “I meant for oil.”
Yeah, like we’d elect a vapid moron whose laughable “qualifications” are limited to being born into a wealthy and powerful family. Someone with embarrassing videos all over the internet. Someone apparently incapable of the most basic intellectual activities, like reading and understanding.
Then again, when it comes to stupid reasons to vote for someone, maybe self-proclaimed hotness is the new “I'd like to have a beer with that guy.” What the hell – top five highlights of a Paris Hilton presidency:
5. “I don’t know about, you know, presidential platforms and stuff, but I’m totally in favor of platform shoes.”
4. Office of the Vice President renamed to Office of My BFF.
3. The hair-pulling catfight between Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears over who gets the new cabinet post of “Secretary of Skankitude.”
2. Immediate extraordinary rendition with extreme prejudice for everyone who panned her performance in “House of Wax.” Which would be everyone who reviewed “House of Wax.” Or saw “House of Wax.”
1. The embarrassing press conference where she talks about her positions on offshore drilling before Helen Thomas clarifies, “I meant for oil.”
Friday, August 1, 2008
Sweet Savage Justice
You know the story by now. A government scandal involving a young woman named Monica and her forbidden passion for a president. She could not be satisfied by long, lingering glances over heavily redacted personnel files. Alone in her office, as she Googled far into the lonely night, she gazed up at the presidential portrait hanging above her, the image so tantalizingly near.
Since she couldn’t give him the one thing he truly wanted – a third war to botch – she gave him a corrupt and hopelessly politicized Department of Justice that pulped every applicant through her bizarre political sieve to strain out the impurities of experience, competence, rational thought and Democratic spouses. And gayness, but that goes without saying.
Top five questions Monica Goodling asked prospective employees of the Justice Department:
5. “If loving Bush is wrong, would you want to be right?”
4. “Okay, I know this is a tough one, but Hoover, Reagan or Bush: which president is the dreamiest?”
3. “Don’t you think that Condi Rice should stay overseas all the time and not hang around the Oval Office making big moony eyes at MY president?”
2. “I know Cheney is hot, but don’t you think Bush is hotter?”
1. “George Bush: great president, or the greatest president?”
Since she couldn’t give him the one thing he truly wanted – a third war to botch – she gave him a corrupt and hopelessly politicized Department of Justice that pulped every applicant through her bizarre political sieve to strain out the impurities of experience, competence, rational thought and Democratic spouses. And gayness, but that goes without saying.
Top five questions Monica Goodling asked prospective employees of the Justice Department:
5. “If loving Bush is wrong, would you want to be right?”
4. “Okay, I know this is a tough one, but Hoover, Reagan or Bush: which president is the dreamiest?”
3. “Don’t you think that Condi Rice should stay overseas all the time and not hang around the Oval Office making big moony eyes at MY president?”
2. “I know Cheney is hot, but don’t you think Bush is hotter?”
1. “George Bush: great president, or the greatest president?”
Friday, July 11, 2008
Friday 5: Dog Thoughts
I ran across a “cute dog contest” photo gallery the other day. No, I didn’t enter Woody. It wouldn’t be fair. Those other dogs wouldn’t have a chance. But the photos were begging for captions. Top five things these dogs are thinking:
“How are we supposed to pull a sled wearing these, and what the hell is a ‘Nike endorsement deal’?”
“Heh heh heh. They think I’m being all cute and cuddly. What they don’t realize is Timmy’s coming home from school any minute now, and Fluffy’s head is right across the slot car track.”
“The vet’s gonna take my what?”
"The vet took my what?"
“I’m so glad I met you. You’re not like those other phony bitches around here.”
“How are we supposed to pull a sled wearing these, and what the hell is a ‘Nike endorsement deal’?”
“Heh heh heh. They think I’m being all cute and cuddly. What they don’t realize is Timmy’s coming home from school any minute now, and Fluffy’s head is right across the slot car track.”
“The vet’s gonna take my what?”
"The vet took my what?"
“I’m so glad I met you. You’re not like those other phony bitches around here.”
Still funny. Still hot.
Over the 4th Dean mentioned that he ran into Bob a couple of months after the events below and said, “Hey, Bob, that story you told about the chicken firework was so funny. I’m still laughing.”
Bob: “Yeah? Well, my ass is still burning.”
Bob: “Yeah? Well, my ass is still burning.”
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Fireworks and Liquor -- Happy 4th of July
Shortly after the 4th of July last year, Dean was sitting in the bar when a guy he knew came in with his wife and teenage son. The guy was walking a little funny and winced as he gingerly placed himself on a barstool.
Dean: “Hey, Bob, did you hurt your back or something?”
Bob: “Not my back, exactly.”
Bob’s wife Betty: “Dumb sumbitch.”
The story involves that potent combination, liquor and fireworks. Seems Bob, Betty and Junior decided to have some fun shooting off a few early fireworks on the afternoon of the 4th. Then Bob got one of those ideas that can only be conceived of under the influence of alcohol.
Bob: “We had one of them chicken fireworks. A cardboard chicken that shoots fireworks out the back. I thought it would be funny if I stuck it in my butt and then the sparks would shoot out my backside, like I was layin’ firework eggs.”
Betty: “Dumb sumbitch.”
So yes, Bob pulled his shorts down around his ankles, lit the chicken firework and stuck the cardboard head in his butt.
“It was pretty damned funny, too. ‘Hey, look at me, I’m shootin’ eggs out my butt!’ By this time the neighbors were gathering round to see what was so funny. Yeah, we were all laughin’. That’s when it hit me.
"The head’s gonna explode!"
"Shit, I had forgotten the heads on those damn things blow up. So now I gotta get this chicken outta my butt before it explodes!”
As he grabbed frantically around his backside, the head blew up. The chicken’s cardboard carcass flew off, landed in his shorts and started them on fire. Under the circumstances I guess it’s not surprising that Bob forgot the “stop, drop and roll” rule.
“I yelled at Betty to get the garden hose. So now I’m runnin’ around the yard with my butt all scorched and my shorts on fire around my ankles and she’s running after me with the hose.”
Betty: “Dumb sumbitch.”
Betty finally got him hosed down, but she drew the line at applying first aid. “No way. I ain’t puttin’ Unguentine on THAT.”
So they made a trip to the ER. Bob: “I had to fill out all these forms about what happened. I wrote it down as best I could, but hell, it boils down to 'a chicken's head exploded in my butt.' You just try explaining THAT to your insurance company.”
Then he turned to his teenage son and said, “Son, what have I always told you about fireworks?”
Junior: “If they ain’t dangerous, they ain’t fun.”
Bob, proudly: “Damn right, boy.”
Betty: “Dumb sumbitches.”
So to your patriotic Independence Day mental montage of flags, fireworks and the Statue of Liberty, you can now add a portly middle-aged guy with his butt scorched, shorts on fire around his ankles, running around his yard while his wife chases after him with a garden hose. You’re welcome.
And I’d give a whole box of chicken fireworks to have seen the look on the face of the insurance rep who had to handle the claim.
Dean: “Hey, Bob, did you hurt your back or something?”
Bob: “Not my back, exactly.”
Bob’s wife Betty: “Dumb sumbitch.”
The story involves that potent combination, liquor and fireworks. Seems Bob, Betty and Junior decided to have some fun shooting off a few early fireworks on the afternoon of the 4th. Then Bob got one of those ideas that can only be conceived of under the influence of alcohol.
Bob: “We had one of them chicken fireworks. A cardboard chicken that shoots fireworks out the back. I thought it would be funny if I stuck it in my butt and then the sparks would shoot out my backside, like I was layin’ firework eggs.”
Betty: “Dumb sumbitch.”
So yes, Bob pulled his shorts down around his ankles, lit the chicken firework and stuck the cardboard head in his butt.
“It was pretty damned funny, too. ‘Hey, look at me, I’m shootin’ eggs out my butt!’ By this time the neighbors were gathering round to see what was so funny. Yeah, we were all laughin’. That’s when it hit me.
"The head’s gonna explode!"
"Shit, I had forgotten the heads on those damn things blow up. So now I gotta get this chicken outta my butt before it explodes!”
As he grabbed frantically around his backside, the head blew up. The chicken’s cardboard carcass flew off, landed in his shorts and started them on fire. Under the circumstances I guess it’s not surprising that Bob forgot the “stop, drop and roll” rule.
“I yelled at Betty to get the garden hose. So now I’m runnin’ around the yard with my butt all scorched and my shorts on fire around my ankles and she’s running after me with the hose.”
Betty: “Dumb sumbitch.”
Betty finally got him hosed down, but she drew the line at applying first aid. “No way. I ain’t puttin’ Unguentine on THAT.”
So they made a trip to the ER. Bob: “I had to fill out all these forms about what happened. I wrote it down as best I could, but hell, it boils down to 'a chicken's head exploded in my butt.' You just try explaining THAT to your insurance company.”
Then he turned to his teenage son and said, “Son, what have I always told you about fireworks?”
Junior: “If they ain’t dangerous, they ain’t fun.”
Bob, proudly: “Damn right, boy.”
Betty: “Dumb sumbitches.”
So to your patriotic Independence Day mental montage of flags, fireworks and the Statue of Liberty, you can now add a portly middle-aged guy with his butt scorched, shorts on fire around his ankles, running around his yard while his wife chases after him with a garden hose. You’re welcome.
And I’d give a whole box of chicken fireworks to have seen the look on the face of the insurance rep who had to handle the claim.
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