No, I don’t intend to watch tonight’s bit of performance art from DeeCee. If I wanted a shameless, savagely incompetent liar sounding off in my living room, on my dime, I’d have a 14-year-old son.
State of the Sty
Category: Agitprop
Oh, shit
“Mr. President, the prime minister of Mierdastan is on line one for you. And the presidents of Dungsylvania and East Turdmire would like a word as well.”
I don’t know much about ART, but. …
Somebody — multiple somebodies, actually — has intercoursed the penguin in dramatic fashion as regards the Albuquerque Rapid Transit (ART) project, which already had all the positive press of a buddy flick called “Hey, Look At My Dick!”, starring Louis C.K. and Harvey Weinstein, directed by Roman Polanski from a script by Woody Allen.
Seriously, how do you fuck up a nine-mile bus line? And the nine miles of retail that goes with it? That takes real talent. I expect these people to go far, and probably soon, too, before the angry mobs kick down their doors.
• Late update: And meanwhile, as expected here at the Duke City Chuckle Hut, the ACLU comes after Albuquerque for its thickheaded, ham-handed anti-panhandling ordinance. Defending this attempt to keep Those People away from the tony real estate is another budget item we could have done without.
Agua fria
Hijo, madre. It finally rained.
Well, kinda, sorta. Still, it was enough for the National Weather Service to declare an end — or at least an intermission — to the fifth longest dry streak since 1891.
“All in all, it’s nothing to write home about,” said NWS meteorologist Randall Hergert.
Oh, I dunno. Maybe a quick email:
Dear Mom,
Not on fire. Yet. Please send fire-retardant jammies for my birthday.
Love,
Patrick
Elsewhere, I see Steve Bannon is at loose ends. Never fear, he’ll land on his feet. Just as soon as he pulls them out of his mouth.
And the Republicans aren’t waiting around to get tossed out like Sloppy Steve. They’re running — not for re-election, but for the exits. Even Obama’s bestie Darrell Issa has seen the light, the way a roach does right before it scuttles under the stove.
Meanwhile, what the fuck is it with The New York Times and its pix of elevator doors closing on fascists? Cut that shit out. Seriously. You can bring the concept back when it’s lids closing on coffins.
Your Sunday swamp
Boy, the swamp, she’s draining now, hey?
So many geniuses. The best geniuses. I don’t know about you, but I’m getting pretty sick of all this winning.
