“Well, I’m dead. You happy now, motherfucker? I’m sure you thought I went somewhere else, but I hate to break it to you, chappy: I’m in horse heaven. I’m eating oats soaked in Cristal and getting my giant horse balls licked by a 20-year-old Anne B
Ladies, I would buy this for you. I’m that kind of guy.
Archive for January, 2007
Favorite story/commentary of the day: Melissa, a mother and blogger, discusses how she was invited onto the Today Show under sort of false pretenses and challenged/shamed for her assertion that it was actually okay for women to have a glass of wine around their kids, that this is okay even out of the presence of men, that women in general are in fact intelligent enough to know the difference between having a glass of wine with friends during their kids’ playdates and getting sloshed a la Joan Crawford in front of their kids, that moms are not glorified babysitters hired by their husbands, and that discussing all of this in a rational and open and friendly manner would not, in fact, encourage other moms to host playdate keggers. It’s a long post, but Melissa manages to be all at once indignant, level-headed, poignant and hilarious.
I feel like Barack Obama is getting enough coverage on his own, to the extent that I was trying to not to blog about him, but I can’t resist the crazy lapels of the late 1970s.
Obama is all over the place, so it’s no surprise that people who knew him back in the day are starting to come out of the woodwork with anecdotes about their pal Barry (no kidding, Barry). In fact, no one seems to have a bad thing to say about the guy. So much so that Slate is doing an ongoing Obama Messiah Watch, which apparently will end in his presidency or his ascension to the right hand of God, whichever comes first.
The article piquing my interest today is this LA Times clip where alums of Occidental College in Los Angeles recall fondly the two fleeting years they got to spend with the man who would become Barack Hussein Obama, Senator and possible presidential candidate. (If the site asks you to register, do what I did and click through from the aforementioned Slate article; you’ll be able to view at least the first page).
This is mainly a fluff (no pun about his afro intended) piece about his time in Haines dorm and his performance on the JV basketball team, but there is some mention of his oratory skills and philisophical idealism. The latter goes hand in hand with the mentions of ‘dope’, and I found myself wondering if the reporter was using the middle-aged classmate’s verbiage to remind us all that those drug tales are 25+ years old. The stories all make Obama seem like a polite and jovial young man, if not obvious presidential material. Although at one point, a former classmate drops the phrase ‘Clinton-esque’, referring to Barry’s succinct writing style and demeanor. Someone’s looking for a cushy cabinet position.
The rest below is page two of the article, because I took one for the team and registered:
and this quote from my ex-roommate, uttered when our (bi-gendered) household last year ended up with 4 humans and 5 cats (it wasn’t planned that way, but sometimes everybody just brings cats to the table, these things happen!):
“I hope I always live in a place with more cats than people.”**
She’s much more of a crazy cat lady than me. And she’s getting married. So … um … hah!
** this is also the same girl who once said, “cats are so much cuter than babies. i don’t know why people ever have babies when they can just have cats.”
Alexandra Pelosi: You just want me to vote for you for your own ego. What are you going to do for me if I vote for you?
George W. Bush: I’m going to give you a little kiss on the cheek.
Alexandra Pelosi: A kiss?
I just recently realized that the maker of Journeys with George, the 2002 documentary that actually kinda shows how George W. Bush CAN come across as funny and charming, was made by Alexandra Pelosi, who is Nancy Pelosi’s daughter. Its been a while since I’ve seen the movie, but if I remember correctly, it starts off with Pelosi dead-set on hating mr. bush, only to be won over, of sorts, by his 5th-grade-boy-like-flirting and attention.
Barbaro is dead. Millions of cats are hungry today. You simply must read the comments to this article.