Category: Deep political thought

We’re just waiting for it to come around. …

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 12 Comments
Shut up, kid.
Shut up, kid.

It ain’t a dump, and it ain’t closed on Thanksgiving, and you can’t get anything you want.

Still, it’d be a friendly gesture if you took all the garbage down to the city dump, starting with that big orange sack of shit that keeps stinking up the church, downstairs where the pews used to be in.

And remember, if you want to end war and stuff, you got to sing loud.

Might not hurt to recite the Haudenosaunee address of gratitude, either. Props to Charles P. Pierce for showing us the way. For more on the Six Nations, a.k.a. Iroquois Confederacy, click here.

Some coal-blooded shit

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 7 Comments
Joe Manchin will be hitting the rubber-chicken circuit.

Huh. Looks like we’re losing a fake Democrat and getting a real Republican out in West Virginny.

Props to Charlie Pierce for the “Pulp Fiction” reference, which itself is a “Kung Fu” reference.

Cracker Barrels throughout the heartland just can’t wait for the diesel-powered Joe Manchin Machine to come chugging through town, rolling coal on all those loony-lefty, bike-ridin’, tree-huggin’ prairie fairies.

Them rubber chickens ain’t gon’ eat theyselfs, y’folly me, Obadiah?

Squash court

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 16 Comments
Trumpkin.

I see Mr. Congeniality made himself some more friends in (and out of) court today.

Doesn’t matter. He wasn’t trying to cozy up to Justice Arthur F. Engoron, or even the appellate court(s).

The Not-So-Great Pumpkin was aiming straight at the electorate, no doubt emboldened by recent polls of the dummies, feebs, and shut-ins who haven’t learned that you never answer the phone when a stranger calls. It can only end badly for you. The Nigerian prince is not your friend. Neither is this guy.

I’d like to think that somewhere in East Jesus one of his fartsniffers will be inspired to have a slurred and meandering go at the judge preparing to sentence him for his third DUI.

Alas, the Secret Service will not be there to stop the bailiff from feeding that fool his nightstick, tasing him in the nutsack for dessert, and dragging his ass off to the stripey hole for the better part of quite some time.

So many dummies. So little time.

Toasty … for now

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 16 Comments
Miss Mia Sopaipilla toasts her tummy on one of our new backyard walls.

Miss Mia Sopaipilla may find her daily backyard promenade going on hiatus for a while.

The weather wizards say a “potent cold front” is hooking up with a “fast-moving storm system” and we may be compelled to endure a short stretch of weather that is something other than 65° and sunny.

O, the agony. Still, if whatever we’re served comes with free water I’m all for it.

Expectations are that this first taste of winter weather will have a short shelf life here. Our readers to the north seem to be in for some heavy shoveling, however. Be judicious; give some thought to the lower back.

Speaking of shoveling, Mike Ha’pence just got tossed onto the growing pile of GOP Pestilential Candidates Who Are Not Orange and Under Indictment. Gosh, Mother, it makes a man’s eyes damp, for sure.

Mike drop

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 22 Comments
And lo a voice from heaven, saying, “This is my beloved Son,
in whom I am well pleased. For now, anyway.”

Our long national nightmare is … only just beginning?

We finally have a Shaker of the Hose, a God-botherer, election denier, and Sniffer of the Orange Farts who has never held a significant leadership position in the U.S. House of Reprehensibles. Until now, that is.

Sounds about right. Let the Games commence.