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Sorry to interupt your previously scheduled after lunch nap, but I have an urgent announcement from Wo’C favorite wingnut (with an emphesis on the “nut”) Jen Shroder.

Mosques, Muslims & minivans

The Lord showed me something last week on the anniversary of 9/11. Something that would be condemned by both the right and the left if it gained any traction. But it’s what I saw.

“She’s the Sheriff: the Movie” with Paris Hilton in the starring role.

Years ago the Lord healed me after I asked if I could live long enough for my kids to grow up. My youngest had no more walked out the door for college when all five of my cars died at the same time as if on cue. One needs a brake master cylinder, one needed a new alternator but $500 later it’s still stalling unexplainably, one’s tranny is going and then totally died, one’s starter needed replacing, and finally, my faithful minivan that is ancient and over 226,000 miles, the one that would start up again if I prayed over it, the one that I used for footwashing, the one I was driving when the Lord warned me of disaster ahead and saved my sons and I, the one that honestly lost all symbols of “Dodge” when I put on three Christian fish symbols (they just dropped off, it was amazing)…that one died. Just stopped.

Kids, please try this at home: put three fish symbols on your Dodge minivan and see if the Dodge symbols will drop off. If they do, then we’ll have proof positive that Detroit is the gateway to Hell, and that Satan’s plan for your future involves GMAC and gas-guzzling, crappily-built vehicles.

It sat there for days until I finally called a tow truck. As he chained my beloved minivan up, a scorpion crawled out from underneath and headed straight for me. I have never seen or heard of scorpions in this area before. I was stunned and said out loud, “Wow, all my cars die and then a scorpion crawls out from under my minivan, what does this mean?”

What DOES this mean? Obviously, something more than the fact that Jen has broken-down, vermin-infested cars. (I’m betting for a combination Aesop’s fable/conspiracy to disable cars by the German rock band also responsible for “Rock You Like a Hurricane.”

My first reaction to the scorpion is Islam, but that’s not right. In Jeremiah’s day, God raised up Babylon. In our day…it’s name is Islam.

Um, no. In our day, Babylon’s name is … worldliness and unrighteousness. (Or, Jen, per a fellow “prophet”, it’s America.

America elected politicians that fight for partial birth abortion. We fund abortion on demand. We close our eyes to child sex slave rings and obsess over endangered snails. We cower rather than object to public schools teaching our children profane sex acts and praying to Allah. It seems the only use that our elected government has for our children is to either kill them, sex them or commit them to bow to foreign gods.

I know that’s the campaign platform I look for in a politician.

Who am I to write such things?

The voice of a lone nut, crying in the wilderness?

No one. But the last time God gave me a message like this, I posted it and it has remained in the first or second position on Google for years and to this day with just three secular words: “three” “days” “nights” It is the “Sign of Jonah,” the only sign that will be given an evil and adulterous generation.

The sign of Jonah Goldberg (which is like the Bat Sign, only featuring a beached whale instead of a bat), should ONLY be given to an evil and adulterous generation.

Google “three” “days” “nights” and see for yourself. That’s not something I could do.

Um, Google “Jen” “Shroder” and “pinkie” and see another miracle for yourself!

Anyway, Jen’s piece about the Sign of Jonah features the standard interpretation that Jonah’s three days in the belly of the whale foreshadowed Jesus’s three days in hell, etc, before he was resurrected. But Jen somehow interprets this to mean that she is a prophet, called to warn us that we will be destroyed by Muslims if we don’t stop teaching our children about Islam in the public schools.

And now a scorpion is telling Jen the same thing. And apparently we have only three days to repent before IT’S TOO LATE!

America, turn around. As a nation we have run out of time, but on your own…seek Him while you can. Don’t blame the Muslims, we brought this on ourselves. Seek Him and live.

Yes, in light of our upcoming doom, Jen’s report that the “Ground Zero Mosque” is part of some sinister Saudi conspiricy to conquer America pales in comparison. So, plan accordingly.

UPDATE

I tooke HeyDave’s advice and took a gander of Jen’s profile photo, taken back when she was a free-lovin’ hippie. And while there, I checked her past columns to see what the death sentence she was spared from might be. Turns out it was broken light bulb poisoning.

Eco-Nazi jihad with light bulb death bombs

I’m dying.

It’s true. I just found out this morning.

I broke a CFL light bulb a few months back and was just informed I’ve been contaminated, exposed, full of mercury poisoning which will give me Alzhiemers (something I can’t even spell off the cuff).

Am I the only one that’s broken a freaking light bulb? Since when has that carried a death sentence?

Since the libs took office, oh yeah.

Silly Jen, you should have read the pamphlet. It was spelled out clearly in the Obama/Biden 2008 literature: “If elected, we plan to thin the population by encouraging people to use energy-saving light bulbs that will kill the clumsy. Extra points for each toddler we knock off!”

What other plans have they got for children that escaped the abortion mills? Will Christmas tree lights have to be…what a silly question, poisonous Christmas, this is atheist brilliance.

Yes, it is. Maybe a little TOO brilliant. I suspect that Bill O’Reilly was behind the whole thing.

And the story of Jen’s final hours continued in Death by spaghetti light bulbs, which I think could be made into a cool retro TV show, much like that old “Run for Your Life,” starring David Jansen.

This was my favorite line from the piece:

I would rather be rationed one light bulb a night than deform my kids!

I think this will be the “Better to light a single candle than curse the darkness” of the upcoming War Against the Light Bulbs.

Anyway, apparently the Lord healed Jen and all is well . . .for now. But the price of freedom is perpetual vigilance against glass.

Scott adds:

For those who are curious about Jen’s photo, but don’t want to get out of the boat, here it is.  On the left is the headshot she’s been using since at least 2003 (with the background Photoshopped out), and on the right is the uncropped version.  How old the original photo is, and why she hasn’t replaced it with an image in which she’s at least standing erect remains a mystery, but perhaps she doesn’t want to make it any easier for the Muslim arachnids to find her.

62 Responses to “The End is Near”

First, howdy S.Z.

Second, WTF? Jen must have finally played around with a too many of the partially smoked pipes, random pills and half eaten energy bars that she’s found lying around in one of her five fucking cars and is in an only very minimal ambulatory stage above catatonic.

Yeah, too wordy for me too: girl is fucked UP!

Seriously, dude, check out her profile pic.

Whacked out.

Ah, Jen Shroder. Isn’t she the one who claimed she was being stalked, and had to change her name (from Jen Schroeder) to throw the liberals off her trail?

the only use that our elected government has for our children is to either kill them, sex them or commit them to bow to foreign gods.

Well, it seems like you’d want to have your child sexed at least once, just so you’ll know what color to paint the nursery.

I put a FSM symbol on my Explorer and the spare tire fell off. OK, I’d ignored the recall notice that the chain holding it might rust through, but coincidence? I don’t think so.

Also, don’t try sexing any children but your own. Child Protective Services will be on you like that!

Well, that’s all kindsa nutty.
What does “abortion on demand” mean? It makes it sound like someone is forcing women to terminate their pregnancies against their will.

Why didn’t she call Click and Clack instead of writing this column, at least we all could have had a laugh?

Anyway, the real reason five poorly maintained rust buckets would all keel over at the same time is that Mercury was retrograde that week. Stop blaming God for everything, people.

You know, the internet really has become a valuable service for keeping people off street corners. Although I hear the megaphone business has really dropped off in the last 10 years.

Save me from idiots who believe in everything but coincidence.

When I was in college, we knew a guy who, not to put too fine a point on it, smoked a lot of pot. He thought he was spiritual, mystical, etc, and that the universe is a friendly place, full of miracles and portents, so, yeah, basically, that much pot. When he found out I was Wiccan, oh, he was overjoyed. He pestered me to do a great many spells and cleansings and ceremonies, etc. I am pagan, even if the world’s most cynical asshole of one, so when it would do no harm I agreed, but turning people into ready-made victims for every con artist who claims a gift is probably not “no harm”, so I stuck pins in quite a lot of happy balloons, too.

He one day had a large reasonably straight branch over the couch one day, with an accompanying story of how he and his mom, stoned in the local rainforest together, found it and knew it had Powers through some convoluted logic. I sat down on the couch and the damned thing dropped onto my head. “It’s like it was DRAWN to you! What does that mean?” he said in awe.

“It means you need a studfinder when hanging brackets.”

Look, I believe in a lot of twaddle, too. But you gotta know when to stop believing or you will spend your entire life chasing The Meaning and missing the meaningful. Pascal’s wager is one thing, but if you waste your life *enduring it* because you know you’re promised something even better when you die, and that turns out not to be the case, you have missed a lot of good stuff. If there is any kind of organizing force in the universe that cares how you live, you have to assume it gave you life for a reason, and with all the emptiness out there, do you really think the point was to just patiently await the moment when your atoms revert back into a loss of consciousness?

Meanwhile, you got a brain. USE IT! If you honestly think you may die, consider something practical. Look up the actual fucking facts about broken CFLs, rather than relying on the fwd that pinhead sister in law sent you and the other ninety seven people on her prayer list. Go see a freaking doctor. Get some goddamned insurance so your kid won’t be homeless.

And, you know, there needs to be, but probably isn’t, a special hell reserved for people who drive unsafe cars on the public streets while trusting in God rather than a fucking mechanic. You take that thing on the roads, we will all be lucky if the only one who dies is you.

Jen is clearly a credulous fool (and I say this as someone who can’t look at eclipses because what if the sky goddess *doesn’t* barf the mooncake back up?) who will make the world a safer place by getting suckered out of all her cars by a televangelist with shiny black shoes and shiny silver hair.

Hey, it’s Janssen! And besides, wasn’t that Ben Gazzara?

Hey, it’s Janssen! And besides, wasn’t that Ben Gazzara?

If I have to fact check, it means the terrorists won.

But thanks for the correction, Papa.

And yes, Scott, Jen is the one who brilliantly changed her name from “Jennifer Schroeder” to “Jen Shroder” to fool her enemies (who were Saudi Arabians who Googled her blog, thus proving they were out to get her or something, if I recall correctly).

Jen’s photo really surprised me: I visualized a woman of at least 300lbs, hair in curlers, waving her bible and howling ignoramus religious asininities to anyone who can’t get away from her (and this imaginary woman has a grip like a vise). Her yard would have a half-dozen rusty junkers, harboring a scary variety of rodents & vermin, on blocks … soon to be joined by 5 more.

The googley-eyed slack jawed blond was unexpected. But give her 10-15 years.

…that old “Run for Your Life,” starring David Jansen.

It’s an easys mistake to make: Back in the 60s, Ben Gazzara starred in the oddly titled TV show “Run For Your Life”, in which he played a fella with an incurable disease which left him with 18 months to live. So, like David Janssen in “The Fugitive” or Michael Parks in “Then Came Bronson” or Bill Bixby in “The Incredible Hulk” or Michael Landon in “Highway To Heaven” or– well, you get the idea, Hollywood doesn’t ever get too far away from the basic formula– he ran around the world sorting out other folks’ problems for ‘em.

But nevertheless, a reminder to confront our own mortality, and since it ran for three years [laughing] it served to remind as well that it ain’t necessarily over ’til it’s over. :-)

Jen Schroder get that look on her face and pouts I was stunned and said out loud, “Wow, all my cars die and then a scorpion crawls out from under my minivan, what does this mean?”

Bless your soul, honey, it’s just God’s way of saying “You are a danger to yourself and others. Do not operate motor vehicles, or for that matter, heavy machinery of any kind (pinball machines, television sets, etc.). And get your Mama or Papa to show you how to change a light bulb without injuring yourself. You hear?”

Kids, please try this at home: put three fish symbols on your Dodge minivan and see if the Dodge symbols will drop off.

“The quality goes in before the name falls off”.

You have five cars. They are all broken. Fix one car. Drive that car, and donate the rest to whichever local charity is asking for your old dead broken cars.

Also? I swear to whatever or whoever wants swearing to: two weeks ago, when I battled a scorpion inside a very clean and lovely house, NOT FUCKING ONCE did I think: ooh, Muslims.

Thank God I’m not God. I’d be out there smiting shit till February 29, whenever the next one is.

KWillow writes: The googley-eyed slack jawed blond was unexpected. But give her 10-15 years.

Of course, we may be looking at an old high school picture. The hairstyle may be an indicator–

“Angels, you’re going undercover!”

one’s tranny is going
mebbe it got tired of her talking about “‘prey away teh ghey’ cure” not realising there’s a difference

and why she hasn’t replaced it with an image in which she’s at least standing erect remains a mystery

those that deny evolution miss it’s benefits

Scorpions are now the world’s least fashionable arachnids. All the cool kids these days are battling pycnogonids.

Same old story: God gets the credit, Detroit and Magic Bugs of Evil get the blame.

Arachnids? She looks like she’s presenting for the baboon population at her trailer park.

Years ago the Lord healed me after I asked if I could live long enough for my kids to grow up. My youngest had no more walked out the door for college when all five of my cars died at the same time as if on cue.

So she’s My Mother The Car? Seriously, is she understanding what she’s posting? She said she prayed for health, and her evidence the Lord listens is that her cars fell apart?

one’s tranny is going and then totally died

Well, it’s remarkable that she drives a crossdresser…

my faithful minivan that is ancient and over 226,000 miles, the one that would start up again if I prayed over it, the one that I used for footwashing

Hon? Loofahs are cheaper and clean better.

“Wow, all my cars die and then a scorpion crawls out from under my minivan, what does this mean?”

That you’re insane?

Google “three” “days” “nights” and see for yourself.

I did. Sorry, Jen.

I broke a CFL light bulb a few months back and was just informed I’ve been contaminated, exposed, full of mercury poisoning which will give me Alzhiemers

I chewed and swallowed a thermometer. I’ve also broken a pencil point in my leg. I was treated for neither and my brain is still sharp as–

Her picture is awfully weird, isn’t it?

Also? I swear to whatever or whoever wants swearing to: two weeks ago, when I battled a scorpion inside a very clean and lovely house, NOT FUCKING ONCE did I think: ooh, Muslims.

See, that’s what they want you to think…

“Run for Your Life,” starring David Jansen.

Ben Gazzara. Jansen was The Fugitive. Gazzara’s character had two years to live….JUST. LIKE. JEN!

What does “abortion on demand” mean? It makes it sound like someone is forcing women to terminate their pregnancies against their will.

It’s one of those lovely rightwing rhetorical devices intended to evoke images of wanton liberal women, after nights of drug-induced orgies, popping down to the corner Jack-in-the-Box (!) for a drive-through Special: Burger and An Abortion, comes with fries!

But I’ve also seen righties argue that legalizing abortion is Bad For Women because there are so many hapless female victims dragged, kicking and screaming, by the nefarious liberal men in their lives to the local Planned Parenthood (only too willing, in their profit-driven greed, to comply with said male beasts) for an abortion-at-gunpoint.

There truly is no lie too outrageous for today’s Puritans to employ in the service of returning our society to standards of the Middle Ages when women existed for the sole purpose of pleasuring men and producing children.

“Wow, all my cars die and then a scorpion crawls out from under my minivan, what does this mean?”
Don’t fear the Creeper !

Scorpions are now the world’s least fashionable arachnids. All the cool kids these days are battling pycnogonids.

In your bathtub, maybe. Thelyphonida FTW, baby.

Me, I used to play with mercury all the time. Also used to swim in polluted, marked, water. And chew on lead. Once drank a cup of diluted hydrochloric acid when I was not paying attention to my home chemistry set. I grant you my last tested IQ was 89, but I was also really, really drunk at the time.

I’m as amazed as anyone I’m still alive, and admittedly my childhood habits were more extreme than most, is there anyone over the age of forty who *hasn’t* spent an afternoon playing with the mercury from a broken thermometer? It may well give you cancer (though I’d be amazed if they could pin it on that as opposed to the fish we eat these days), but it’s going to take more than two years to do it. You have time to make some financial arrangements for your kids, it’s not a matter of stealing Hamlet’s O I Die speech about the potent poison because you will otherwise miss your chance for a few last words.

And, not to be ungenerous (Okay, yes, to be ungenerous), but would anyone notice if Jen developed Alzheimer’s? Does anyone think Jen isn’t headed there anyway? She’s not exactly screaming “healthy lifestyle” at me; I’m willing to bet she’d swallow Drano if the liberals tried to pass a law against it.

I’m stockpiling incandescents with the best of ‘em, but really, people, focus your paranoia on the shit that’s real. Will global warming be worse for my kids than me forgetting their names? Decisions, decisions.

Paranoids without a good sense of priorities annoy me. At some point you’re just making Ron Paul look sane, and to top it off you’re liable to get hit by a car in a crosswalk just because you were too busy staring suspiciously at the cropduster over yonder.

These people give nutjobs a bad name.

pycnogonids are not arachnids, though they are related

pycnogonids are not arachnids, though they are related

In-laws?

Wait, aren’t scorpions just “fun size” Lobsters?

actor –

She meant you had to Google (“three” “days” “nights”) WITH the quotes (though not the parentheses I used here. Because, as we all know, when you search for a text string, you must enclose it in quotation marks. (ssshh… don’t tell her you use one set of quotation marks for the whole string)

And when you do, you get a miracle!

Just like the one I had the other day: I said, “Let there be light,” and lo and behold, there was light (after I turned on the switch).

Anywho, why is she worshipping God when she clearly should be worshipping Google?

And, you know, there needs to be, but probably isn’t, a special hell reserved for people who drive unsafe cars on the public streets while trusting in God rather than a fucking mechanic. You take that thing on the roads, we will all be lucky if the only one who dies is you.

Reminds me of the time I saw a tow truck on the freeway pulling a beater. The junker had 2 bumper stickers on the rear bumper: “The Devil is a Nerd” and “Jesus is My Best Friend”. After the Poindexter Satan broke down the car, Jeebus called the tow?

Wait, aren’t scorpions just “fun size” Lobsters?

Soda hurts when you snort!

David,

I just didn’t want to believe she’d be that stupid.

*sigh*

Of course, did you know that Satan has already put up a hotel for his stay those three days?

Pennsylvania Package Includes:

Roundtrip Motorcoach from Lancaster or Harrisburg Departing March 18 – Returning March 21

Three Nights Days Inn, Wytheville, VA

“Jonah’s three days in the belly of the whale foreshadowed Jesus’s three days in hell, etc, before he was resurrected.”

I hate to nit-pick S.Z. but wasn’t it Pinochio who was in the belly of the whale for three days?

It would be a howler to make fun of Jen’s latest screed, but honestly, I can’t quite make out what point she’s trying to make. If they make a pill for incoherency, this gal needs it badly.

Okay, so, Friday afternoon (we’ll count it as a whole day like public schools do), Friday night, Saturday, Saturday night, and then early Sunday morning He’s not around. Even granting that a tiny part of Sunday morning counts as a full day (like overtime pay at a really good company), it’s still only TWO NIGHTS, tops.

Only here Jen has come up with this explanation that says the clock started with Jesus’ (why is it that only *some* names ending in S do that? Socrates’ name, but not James’s name, for example) arrest, and actually cites a bunch of verses that are at least consistent with that interpretation: handed over, tried, executed, raised on the third day.

I think the “standard interpretation” is actually more like “hey look over there” or “oh they were counting days differently because in first-century Judea you’d always add an extra number to everything”. This was sort of insightful, I think. I’d never heard it anyway.

That said, incandescent bulbs aren’t banned and won’t be for another three years (four years Biblically). So I can’t understand how she was “forced” by the “eco-Nazis” to use CFLs a year (two years) ago, four years (five years) before the ban starts.

Anyway, I’d probably be more worried about the carcinogens from five (six) barely functional cars, including a minivan with 226,000 (226,001) miles on it, than the vapor from a b0rken CFL.

Once drank a cup of diluted hydrochloric acid when I was not paying attention to my home chemistry set.

Nothing wrong with that. It’s what’s in your stomach anyway.
I can actually lecture people at some length about mercury toxicity, but that would involve the Explaining Voice and no-one wants that.

“Wow, all my cars die and then a scorpion crawls out from under my minivan, what does this mean?”

What it means is that even scorpions like a little shade when they can get it. Walking towards you was the scorpion’s way of determining if you would be a suitable source of shade or cover.

What does it mean when you can see signs and portents in every mundane thing?

Hey, I saw Final Destination. Well, I saw the commercial for it and its sequels, so I got the gist (you can’t escape fate/death, you horny teenage moron!) — suddenly, I’m seeing scythes here.

Years ago the Lord healed me after I asked if I could live long enough for my kids to grow up. My youngest had no more walked out the door for college…

Really. Hmmm. Inexplicably broken poison bulbs. Cars dying the second the kids leave. Scorpions.

I don’t mean to freak you out Jen, but God’s bill has become due.

Vengeful Deity. It’s like Faust. But different.

True, Herr Doktor, but it burns like hell going down. It was a fairly memorable mistake, even in a disturbingly reckless childhood like mine. I now sip first, *then* guzzle.

We took Nagi in this morning for the surgery on her hips. She’s in the recovery area now, we can go see her tonight, probably bring her home tomorrow. I gotta find somewhere to let her hang out with me for the first week, they don;t want her climbing at all. She’s been out of surgery less than half an hour and she’s already staggering around the cage they have her in, trying to escape.

She charmed them, purred like crazy the whole time she was conscious, apparently.

My partner’s been a basket case all day, but has taken a few deep breaths and is happy we can visit her tonight. Meanwhile, I need to sleep some, because, uh, I haven’t been.

Yay, my kitty’s doing very well! Details undoubtedly to follow, and let me thank you or the good wishes on her purry, stoned behalf.

Sigh, and Jesus didn’t spend 3 days in hell. he died mid day Friday and rose again early Sunday morning. (He rose ON THE THIRD DAY, not after 3 days!) Why is it these fundy Jeebus freaks don’t know the Bible as well as most Atheists I know…

OT, DS: I’m glad your kitty is getting better

Never mind, I should have read her piece before I made my comment. (Damnit, I know better than to judge like that!) She argues that Jesus was separated from God beginning Thursday night. So that counts as three days “in hell”. Pretty lame, but she did TRY to account for the extra time. A for effort, but still an F overall.

I used to love the way the little beads of quicksilver danced on your palms as you flipped ‘em back and forth between your hands. I used to think it was so pretty at the gas station, when the pavement was wet and you could see the rainbows on the ground. And I loved the scritchy, slightly sticky feel of the squares of asbestos fabric that came with my brother’s chemistry set. Ooh, and several times each summer, a big truck would cruise by our dirt-and-gravel road, spreading PCB-saturated oil to keep down the dust.

(We weren’t even country! This was at 8 1/2 Mile Road, just north of the Detroit city limits. I remember fabulous sunsets, too, the kind of vivid cellophane yellow you get when the sunlight’s filtered through smog.)

What were we talking about? Darn. Can’t remember. But if I had a lawn, y’all could totally come over and play tag or statue or red rover on it. You can do a Silkwood shower afterward. Also, I have one car, a Honda Civic. I have severe depression, too. Neither scorpions nor Jeebus have anything to do with it. You play the hand you’re dealt. If you’re going to play. I guess you could just walk away. This is the quicksilver talking. I should shower now.

yeah Larkspur, but real kids ran after the truck spraying DDT for the mosquitoes too

Hey, we sprinkled DDT on our Frosted Flakes. We only ran for the Good Humor truck.

Yes, I date myself. Someone has to.

You don’t need to use quotes. Actor’s problem was typing “night” instead of “nights.” Thus. I have no comment on the idea that God manifests His will via google algorithms.

I hate to nit-pick S.Z. but wasn’t it Pinochio who was in the belly of the whale for three days?

No, Jonah is correct.

She argues that Jesus was separated from God beginning Thursday night.

She’s correct, in this case. In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus refudiates (sic) the Crucifixion as His Father’s sacrifice, not His. This can be interpreted as His final mortal act, distancing Himself from God.

The story of Jonah is actually interesting. God tells Jonah to go to Nineveh, he refuses but eventually relents after the whale incident, Jonah goes there and preaches, and the city repents. Jonah is then pissed off at God for not smiting the city. He goes off into the desert and sleeps under a tree. The tree dies and Jonah gets pissed off at God for that. God tells him that if he’s so angry about one tree he isn’t even responsible for dying, imagine how God feels about an entire city that He created.
But of course it’s all about the Whale.

I feel obliged to point out that snail darters aren’t actually snails.

And the “3 days in the underworld” thing goes back to the Sumerian Goddess Inanna, because the moon is in darkness for 3 days.

I feel obliged to point out that snail darters aren’t actually snails.

That’s what makes her paragraph all the funnier.

She really needs to explain that dead tranny in the garage.

So nice to know the Texas Board of Education has been listining to Jen:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/23/education/23texas.html

I’m late to the picnic on this, so I offer just three quick observations:

1. Combine all the parts of the five busted cars to make one functioning one, capable of being driven by a scorpion, of course.

2. Jen’s photo is at least 30 years old.

3. Jen has five o’clock shadow on her upper lip and chin. She needs Vaniqa or better pancake.

I know, I know… But just one more thought–that clever Jen keeps using her old picture to keep THEM from knowing what she looks like now; so she can’t be located!!
For all we know, she could be a doppelgänger for Jennifer Lopez, or Hillary Clinton, or Zsa Zsa Gabor…

..instead of David Spade + Dana Carvey.

She should really consult with Debbie Schlussel about how to create an eye-catching glamour shot for your blog that will enchant all visitors while still keeping your real self all anonymous.

why she hasn’t replaced it with an image in which she’s at least standing erect remains a mystery

But I think the really disturbing part is describing herself as a “soon to be widow” – what’s up with that?

Oh, damn, now I want to get married just so I can look at hubby with half-lidded eyes and say, honey, since I’m a soon to be widow, would you please put the bank accounts in my name?

What does it mean when you can see signs and portents in every mundane thing

Referential mania?

Jen’s Facebook profile:

Live in California, soon to be widow, 3 sons taller than me and so proud of all of them! I wish I could post pics of them but with some of my political activities in the past…I just won’t. This site is CLOSED, pls don’t be mad when I don’t respond.

I guess God got pissed about that tranny in her garage…

Pinocchio
One of the key episodes in The Adventures of Pinocchio,by Carlo Collodi (pseudonym of Carlo Lorenzini, 1826-90) takes place in the belly of a sea monster, a creature Collodi describes as a “gigantic Dog-fish,” an Attila of fish and fishermen” that is “more than a kilometer long, not counting its tail.” Readers soon realise that it must be a whale, as the creature breathes through its lungs … and suffers from asthma!
The Dog-fish “sucked Pinocchio in as he would have sucked a hen’s egg.” When the marionette reaches the monster’s stomach, he meets up with a philosophical tuna that assures him, “When one is born a Tunny it is more dignified to die in the water than in oil.” Then Pinocchio thinks he sees a light. It is the glow of a candle held by – can it be? – Gepetto, his father! the old carpenter had survived inside the whale “for almost two years,” living on supplies from the ship the beast had inadvertently swallowed. Dragging, then carrying his father, Pinocchio makes his way to the tongue of the Dog-fish, which one would mistake for “a lane in the park.” They manage to get past the giant fish’s “three rows of teeth” because it “suffered very much from asthma” and had to sleep with its mouth open.

Live in California, soon to be widow,

Wow! What is that, some sort of threat?

Something to say?