TGIF

January 28, 2011January 28, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 20 Comments

I can’t wait to see how the wingnuts manage to credit Ronnie Raygun for all the upheaval in the Middle East while heaping scorn upon the Kenyan Muslim socialist currently occupying the Oval Office.

Happily, right now they seem more concerned about why the comic-book movie “Captain America: The First Avenger” is only titled “The First Avenger” when it’s being pimped to the rest of the world. You’d think they’d be more worked up about the gay subtext — you know, the old “Cap’n America and his teen sidekick Bucky” deal, wink wink, nudge nudge, the nonsense that got old Frederic Wertham (“Seduction of the Innocent”) all het up over Batman and Robin. Thanks and a twirl of Thor’s hammer to Steve Benen at Political Animal for the tip.

Meanwhile, the Tea Party twits are already finding themselves either shunned by the “mainstream” Repug dingbats or absorbed by the conservative Borg: “Thanks for the lift last November, bitches — now go stand in a corner with the fundamentalist Christers and shut the fuck up until we need you again.”

Speaking of neotard asshats, there’s a fresh rant up at VeloNews.com and it seems a fairly gentle reference to self-described rodeo clown Glenn Beck has generated some backlash, mostly from feebs who can’t even spell their hero’s name. Good times. I took a quick peek at some of the funnier ones and then slipped out for a longish bike ride, because this weekend will involve some heavy lifting from the bottom of the old VeloBarrel, what with cyclo-cross worlds going on in Germany and Alberto Clenbutador weeping into his tapas.

I had doubts that the temps would hit the mid-60s as forecast, but was wrong as usual. I didn’t have enough pockets to stuff cool-weather bits into and wound up keeping the knee warmers on. Fat city.

SOTU and STFU

January 26, 2011January 26, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 1 Comment

I’m pretty much in agreement with The New York Times editorial page this morning — the prez did an OK job last night.

My favorite bits involved eliminating taxpayer subsidies for Big Oil (“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” the president said, “but they’re doing just fine on their own.”); ending the Daffy-Fudd tax breaks for the Richie Riches; and putting Average Joe back to work.

I also enjoyed watching Punkinhead Boehner looking like he’d set his granny on fire for a water glass brimming with gin. Jesus, talk about a living caricature of a corporate stooge.

I didn’t watch either of the Repuglicant responses because I didn’t feel like plucking out my eyes and throwing them at the TV. But I sure would like to see that lot do something, anything, other than stomp its feet and scream, “No! No! No!” like a spoiled snotnose with the terrible twos.

Let them eat … nothing

January 21, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 8 Comments

Welcome to the future: overfed lawmakers stiffing underfed kids.

I’d like to see a few of these empty suits lining up at their local food banks for a small box of whatever. Looks like the Durango Herald picked the right time to run this piece.

It will be interesting to see which measures manage to win the approval of the steely-eyed budget cutters at the state Capitol. Is it unreasonable of me to expect that the rich might continue to get richer?

Meanwhile, there’s a fresh rant up at VeloNews.com. It has a relatively low venom content and is comparatively foam-free.

The crazies on the crazy

January 12, 2011January 12, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 21 Comments

I don’t know who’s scarier — the grinning lunatic who guns down a congresswoman, a federal judge and a 9-year-old girl, among others, or the assclowns who are in the public eye because some folks treat the ballot box like a drive-up window at Mickey D’s after the bars have closed for the night (“Oh, just give me whatever.”)

Take Rep. Louie Gohmert (R-Terror Babies), who thinks some folks (not him) need to tone down their rhetoric. Or Rep. Virginia Foxx (R-McCarthyism), a neotard who equates health care with terrorism — and who chairs a House committee on higher education and lifelong learning. And of course Caribou Barbie herself, who just can’t bear to see a TV screen bereft of her image, a grinning clown mask hung on an empty skull. A big shout-out to John “Get Off My Lawn” McCain for dropping this flaming sack of moose shit on the national stoop.

It must all be terribly frustrating for the staff at “The Daily Show,” with satire running a very poor second to reality. As Steve Benen at Political Animal noted, “The jokes write themselves.”

Happy solstice

December 21, 2010December 21, 2010 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 3 Comments

Oboy, oboy, the days are gonna start getting longer … although some of them lately have seemed almost interminable.

Jon Kyl gets off to a bad START — "New START has overcome my filibuster, you say? Blast it! Have Michele Bachmann bring me a turkey taco at once, and send Lindsey Graham in here to kiss my ass."

Roofwork. Insulation. Tree removal and transplantation. The rewiring of the house in order to keep hair dryers from punking computers, DSL modems and productivity. A woeful lack of exercise as a certain fat bastard makes himself available for oversight. Oh, the humanity.

Happily, all projects save repairs to our gutters should be complete by this time tomorrow afternoon, and peace will reign in Chez Dog once again — until Friday, when we commence a massive cookery project to feed family during a delayed solstice celebration on Saturday (some folks call this “Christmas”).

It has been my practice to whip up some weirdo feast — a massive New Mexican meal, chicken cacciatore, just about anything other than turkey with all the trimmings. But this year, it’s the bird, goddamnit, ’scuse me, with mashed Yukon Gold potatoes, giblet gravy, stuffing, a green salad, raspberry cobbler, the works. The only semi-oddball on the menu is a side dish, stir-fried succotash with edamame, from “Recipes for Health” by Martha Rose Shulman.

Anyway, the dinner is secondary. I want the leftovers. Turkey sandwiches, turkey hash, turkey soup, turkey enchiladas — yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. Yum, yum, gimme some.

Come Near Year’s, I should weigh slightly more than Jon Kyle’s bruised and swollen ego and slightly less than Lindsey Graham’s ass-kissing lips.