Saturday, March 20, 2010

If NRO (neocon rhetoric organization) wont correct a glaring error at TPM, then I will

Usually the neocon hate mongerers at NRO do a better job of correcting progressive news places.  Which is why this strikes me as unusual.

That TPM allegedly takes umbrage at the teabaggers use of the term "faggot" toward Barney Frank is disingenious and has been since Perez Hilton make it okay to say last year.

Friday, March 19, 2010

I resent the characterization from the extreme right wing of the blogworld of President Obama as a tyrant...

A simple banana republic tyrant.

It's completely unacceptable.

The man is clearly too big a pussy to be labeled a tyrant.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Randy Rasmussen and The Temple of Poon


There are strange things done on the midnight run by the men who long-haul truck
Eighteen wheels of steel and behind the wheel are men who love to fuck

(Scene 1:  Camera view fading in from black reveals the dark, smoky confines of a cheesy brothel 35 miles south of Jackpot, Nevada.  Broken men idle impatiently on gaudy red velvet couches while an off screen pianist belts out an off-tune rendition of  The Sting.  Pan to the door which violently crashes open revealing the backlit silhouette of a large angry man...)

"BIG" DICK AUGNEY:   (shouts)  Where is that cockmagnet Rasmussen hiding?

DONNA THE PROPRIETOR:  (from off-scene) Close the door, Dick.  You're lettin' all the warm air out.

"BIG" DICK:  (shouts) Where is he?

(cut to DONNA, proprietor of DONNA'S RANCH)

DONNA:  (from off-scene)  Jesus, hon.  You're actin' a site.  Why dontcha take a load off?

(cut to a haggard and obviously drunk "BIG" DICK AUGNEY, his beer stained Philadelphia Eagles t-shirt several sizes too small for his distended gut)

"BIG" DICK: (stares lewdly at DONNA's gratuitous cleavage)  Rasmussen ain't been in tonight?

DONNA:  (from off-scene)  No.  Now would ya close the door, the wind will kill ya!

"BIG" DICK:  (looks over the lounge) Hmmmm.  Can a fella get some service in here?

DONNA:  (moves into frame) Smells like you've had enough to drink tonight, big boy.

"BIG" DICK:  You get me wrong, darlin'.  I'm looking for service COCK.

(cue an appropriately sinister chord, trilling on the word "cock")

DONNA:  (making a cud smacking noise with her chewing gum) You got cash?

"BIG" DICK:  You got ass?

DONNA:  Right this way, baby.

(DONNA grabs "BIG" DICK AUGNEY by the hand and leads him off-scene)

The long, long maze of lonely highways
Driven by men down on their luck

(Scene 2:  Pan down from a dark, starry sky to a poorly maintained gravel lot where a custom Peterbilt Rig grumbles onto the scene and stops with a loud hiss of air brakes.  The engine ticks loudly, cooling in the sub-zero temperatures as the drivers side door opens and intrepid long-haul trucker RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN climbs out.   He strides quickly toward the front door of a seedy, ramshackle joint advertised by a large buzzing neon sign which reads:  Donna's Ranch)

RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN:  (to himself) Oh boy, I've got to get me some goddamn poontang!

(Cut to the interior of the brothel.  The recently damaged door opens with a grinding squeal.  Broken men on gaudy red velvet couches look up at the newcomer before retreating back into the loving embrace of their own sorrows.)

RANDY:  (to nobody in particular) This looks like one o' them establishments where a feller like me could get some goddamn poontang on the cheap.  That true?

(The piano stops playing and is replaced by the gravely, nicotine stressed voice of the pianist)


RANDY:  Thats right, I am.  Randy Rasmussen's muh name.  But you can call me Dave.  I got me a custom Peterbilt and a double load of brussels sprouts headin' to Salt Lake City, but they don't gotta be there until morning and right now I need me some goddamn poontang!

HOT CARLA:  Someone was in here lookin' for ya.

RANDY:  Really?  Where?

HOT CARLA:  Down the hall.

(RANDY stares toward a dark hallway)

RANDY:  (pointing with his thumb) That hallway right there?

HOT CARLA:  (resumes playing)  Yup.

Those sodium lights have seen queer sights
But the queerest they ever did see

(Scene 3:  Inside a darkened corridor in a cheesy brothel somewhere south of Jackpot, Nevada a lone figure surveys events unfolding in the lounge.  Clad in a form fitting latex bustier, black thigh-high stockings and stiletto heels and a lacy black thong, statuesque beauty "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI, armed with a bull whip and a small flask of feminine lubricant daintily tucked in the flimsy waistband of her expensive thong patiently awaits her prey)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  (under her breath)  There you are, you sonofabitch.  Come to mama.  Come, let me show you what it feels like to be twenty-five again.

(RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN turns as directed by HOT CARLA, THE PIANIST toward the darkened hallway, where sex crazed vixen "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI awaits, quivering with desire)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  (under her breath)  Closer you sonofabitch.  Follow your meatlance toward mamas mudhole.  Thats it.  Closer.

RANDY: (stops and stares into the dark intently)  Wait a minute!  My long-haul trucker senses are tingling.

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI: (under her breath) You sonofabitch.

("SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI steps forward from the shadows, silky, jet black hair flourishing slightly in the breeze from an over head fan.  Her ice blue eyes seem to glow with an unnatural light from beneath her leather visor cap)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  (spoken seductively) "Dave" Rasmussen!  At last we meet.  Bring that hog leg over here and let me lather it up with my juices.

("SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI cracks her bullwhip and beckons RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN to come forward.  She licks her thick, ruby red lips and motions 'come here' with her index finger)

RANDY:  (gulps)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  I said now!  You sonofabitch.  I will have your cock now!

(Commotion can be heard coming from a room behind "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI")

"BIG" DICK:  (muffled)  Whuzzat?  Did someone just say "DAVE" Rasumussen is here?

RANDY: (staring intently at "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI)  What are you doing with that whip, Alice?

("SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI leans forward toward RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN, glances at the bulge in his crotch, then arches her back and slides her hand enticingly down the front of her thong.  She withdraws her hand and licks the tip of her middle finger. An exquisitely faint whiff of honey and Atlantic Cod can be detected over the musky lounge odors of smoke and human sweat)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  I've never wanted a man like I want you, "Dave".  Take me now!

(More commotion and then a loud crash from the hallway behind "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI)

"BIG" DICK: (shouting drunkenly) Dave!  Where you been you ass rascal?

("BIG" DICK AUGNEY charges drunkely down the hall toward RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN.  He collides with "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI who, weighing over one hundred pounds less than "BIG" DICK AUGNEY is knocked violently aside.  Her head connects sharply with a tackily papered wall and she collapses in a heap)

RANDY:  Big  Dick!

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI: (before losing consciousness) Sonsabitches.

(DONNA THE PROPRIETOR, wrapped hastily in a semen stained bed sheet emerges from the room seconds behind "BIG" DICK AUGNEY)

DONNA: (shouting) The fuck is going on out here?

(DONNA THE PROPRIETOR stops and stares in horror as "BIG" DICK AUGNEY drops to his knees in front of RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN, fumbles momentarily with his belt and then pulls out RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN's giant flesh pencil)

"BIG" DICK:  Oh Jeez, Dave.  Its been such a long time.  Oh God!  Whargarblll...

("BIG" DICK AUGNEY's last words are muffled as he wraps his hairy, wind chapped trucker lips around RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSENs swollen meat sickle)

DONNA: (shouting)  Hey you boys gotta get a room for that!  This here's a respectable establishment!

RANDY:  Oh God.  Oh Jesus.  I'm almost there, Big Dick!

"BIG" DICK:  (muffled) wharblgarbl

(DONNA THE PROPRIETOR turns her attention to the scantily clad, unconscious mystery woman laying spread eagle on the floor.  Although not of the lesbian pursuasion, she can not help but feel aroused as she detects the faint, pleasant odor of cinnamon honey and Alaskan king crab eminating from "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI's meticulously trimmed honey pot)

DONNA:  Oh Jesus, darlin'.  Are you okay?

RANDY:  Oh Lord.  I'm coming.  Oh yeah.

"BIG" DICK:  (muffled) wharblgarblgarbl.

DONNA:  (to the still unconscious "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI) What did those nancy boys do to you, hun?

RANDY:  (yelling) Yaaaarrrrghhhhhhhhhh

(a loud pop is heard and camera view fades to black)

Was that night in Donna's Ranch, when with a sperm avalanche
"Dave" Rasmussen killed "Big" Dick Augney

(Scene 4:  Montage showing  the aftermath of  "BIG" DICK AUGNEY's sperm fueled destruction.  Epic 1981 ballad Endless Love by Diana Ross and Lionel Richie plays throughout the montage)

RANDY: (yelling)  Yaaaarrrrghhhhhhhhhh

(loud pop)

DONNA: (screams)

(a frothy pink mist of blood, gray matter, and gelatinous jets of man-goo mingle with cigarette smoke in the inadequate fluorescent light)

(Ranch clientele panic and scatter, tipping over chairs)

RANDY:  Unnnnnnnnnnngh

(red and blue lights strobe from every direction.  DONNA THE PROPRIETOR, still wrapped in a semen stained bed sheet holds a styrofoam cup of bad coffee and speaks with a detective, while in the background, the coroner can be seen loading a body bag laden gurney into the back of a county meat wagon)

DONNA:  No.  No sir.  "Big" Dick, he came all cock hungry at "Dave".  Wasn't nowhere "Dave" could go.  No sir.  No sir.  "Dave" didn't look to be fighting back too hard.

("SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI, wrapped in a wool army surplus blanket sits alone on the bumper of an ambulance holding an ice pack to her head)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  Sonsabitches!

(red and blue strobe lights fade out)

(cut to the interior of DONNA's Ranch where RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN speaks patiently with another detective)

SIMON FALCO, Elko County Sherrifs Detective:  Yeah.  Yeah.  I can see where the pervasive psychological pressures inherent in the long-haul trucking industry could manifest themselves via physical pressure in your urethra.  I'm no doctor but it makes perfect sense to me.

RANDY:  "Big" Dick...oh God.....he was like a brother to me.

SIMON FALCO:  (stares)

RANDY:   Not that I woulda let that happen with my own brother.

SIMON FALCO:  (stares)

RANDY:  Or my sister, for that matter.  Do you need anything else from me, detective Falco?

SIMON FALCO:  (looks at his watch) I think we have this all wrapped up.  You go ahead and get on out of here.  I believe you got  somewhere you have to be, right?

RANDY:  Yes sir.  Them school children in Salt Lake need this load of brussels sprouts and I plan to see them through!

( be continued)

(Apologies to the estate of Robert Service)

C. Montgomery Burns files for reelection

Its official now, whereas prior to now it was not official.

Also, note his striking resemblance to fictional cartoon character, Senator Bob Bennett.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

If I were coordinating an ad campaign to combat negative opinions toward Islam...

My slogan would be:

Islam!  It's da bomb!

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

What are you thinking about? (Part 2)

Three LA teachers were recently pulled from their classrooms for giving portraits of OJ Simpson, Dennis Rodman and RuPaul to their students to carry in a Black History month parade.

Methinks they could have done much worse.

(h/t fark again  x2)

Just throwing one out

Ok, I'll bite.

Over on another blog somewhere, the following question was asked:
If “teabaggers” is the preferred term for people who are speaking out against what this administration is doing, what should we call the people who think this administration is awesome? “Bean-flickers”?

I submit:  "Beaners"

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

I cant stop watching this

Via Fark

By Pelosi-esque logic

A bill can be bipartisan without bipartisan votes.

A school can be integrated without letting in black students.

Global warming can exist in the absence of a warming temperatures.

Obama can quit smoking without giving up cigarettes.

Monday, March 1, 2010

The Nerds Lament

Everything was perfect.  Her smile, the lock of hair that always fell across her eyebrow, that high pitched laughter at my lowbrow fart jokes.  We had plans for a happy future together...

...until the day she found out about my level 80 paladin.