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And for his Special Day, Bill, speaking as a connoisseur of penises, implored me not to repost that image of former male porn star and current warblogger Rod Majors, nude and rampant upon a hay bale, with his Junior Samples-style bib overalls down around his ankles and a Cheney where his Dick ought to be. And all I can say is, Bill, you’re the birthday boy…
So instead, here’s an image of Yoda with a stick protruding suggestively from his Muppety nether regions.
Darth Vader in Love:
Influence-peddling, by John Stossel: If government would stop asserting the right to tax and regulate industry, then big business would stop hiring lobbyists to game the system, and all that graft could be better spent on CEO perks and salaries.
Only when we eliminate the state’s ability to meddle in business will business will stop meddling in government.
A genuine free market, unburdened by government interference, is the route to cleaner politics.
Dirtier water, air, and food, sure — but much cleaner politics. Imagine a country where parents no longer need live in fear of their child dying of dysentary after touching legislation tainted with e coli.
The Government and the Marketplace by Bill Murchison: There’s only one thing to do about these outrageous gas prices — ordinary Americans must rise up, bearing torch and flag, and march upon the White House to ask — nay, demand! — that the government do nothing.
Why worry at this point about regulation of energy? … Regulation isn’t equivalent to “solution” of anything. It’s merely what politicians — those of a certain mettle, anyway — always propose when significantly large numbers of voters are pinched and distraught. Like now.
An eternal idea is, kick the companies.
Sure, it’s possible, even likely, given the current surplus in oil supplies, that somebody is manipulating the market to squeeze obscene windfall profits out of consumers, but why do we always automatically assume it’s the oil companies? This really crisps my cracklings! It’s just like how the police, after discovering a woman shot dead in her home, immediately cast suspicion on the husband, just because he was found sitting in the next room watching “Family Feud” in a bloody shirt that reeked of cordite. Does the American consumer ever stop to consider that maybe, just maybe, the oil companies aren‘t to blame, and that perhaps Exxon-Mobil was telling the truth when they reported that retail gas prices were raised by a mysterious one-armed man who subsequently vanished?
Liberty versus Socialism, by Walter E. Williams: Caring for sick and disabled members of society is immoral, and helmet laws make the waxen lips of V.I. Lenin curl with glee in his Red Square sepulchre.
When I was 14 or 15 years old, smelling myself, I thought I could take over the house.
Okay, I’m out. Next!
Steinem’s Last Stand, by Kathleen Parker: Gloria Steinem is a dried up old hag! She’s even older than John McCain! Ewww!
The Death Cry of Gloria Steinem, by Michelle Malkin: Gloria Steinem is a dried up old hag! With a vagina! A 73-year old vagina! And it makes young women hate her, and her antiquated ideas, and her wizened labia, and her dessicated mucosa!
Pink Bunnies and the Pledge, by Mario Diaz, Concerned Woman:
Many people think the battle over the words “under God” in our Pledge of Allegiance is over.
Unfortunately, Concerned Women for America and other right wing advocacy groups still have some fund-raising to do, so if you have a moment, I’d like to whip you into a frenzy…
How many countries can you name in five minutes?
I eked out a paltry 81, but a.) I’ve got a headache, b.) I’m pretty sure it’s 80 more countries than George W. Bush can name, and I’m only spotting him the one because it’s embroidered on most of his windbreakers, and c.) I’ve got a bone to pick with the methodology, since it counts Gibraltar, Puerto Rico, and American Samoa as countries. Still…click here and give it a try. But remember that Oscar Wilde said, “A map of the world that does not include Utopia is not even worth glancing at….unless you’re at the mall and really need to find the Lady Footlocker and One Potato Two.” (I may be paraphrasing.)
Apologies for the blank page. I’ve pinched a nerve in my neck and haven’t been able to sit at the computer and dredge the wingnut cesspools, while s.z.’s furnace has died (I warned her that stoking it with kittens was going to cause a build-up of duct-choking furballs) and the resulting chill is keeping her out of the basement, where her computer is located.
Hopefully regular posting will resume shortly, because the pain is making me ornery, and I need to squirt the spleen at somebody, if you know what I mean.