Category: Feckin’ eejits

Barking dogs, fat flies and spider webs

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 7 Comments
Turkish delight
Turkish enjoys a sunny spot on the drawing board after a hard day of doing … well … not much of anything, really.

Whew. We appear to have survived another Thanksgiving-Black Friday combo. But it was a near thing. I don’t know how professional cooks survive all those hours on their feet — ’bout dark-thirty yesterday my dogs commenced to bark and they haven’t stopped yet.

A couple of friends popped round last night to split a bottle of sparking rosé and eat some leftovers, which I swear to God took nearly as long to reheat as the original meal did to cook. They also brought some killer green-chile-and-jack wontons with a guacamole garnish that put our heat-it-and-eat-it to shame.

Anyway, we stayed up too late and drank too much and today we all felt a tad listless for some reason, even the four-legged crowd, which does not imbibe (see Turkish, at right).

After a few hours of puttering around the ranch Herself toddled off for a short run and I took a break from work to ride the Jamis Supernova around Monument Valley Park, which proved a bad idea. I felt like a fat fly negotiating a spider web constructed of retractable dog leashes and feckin’ eejits.

Now I’m wrapping up the day’s paying chores, sipping a 5 Barrel Pale Ale and contemplating the evening meal. Whaddaya think? Turkey, turkey or … turkey?

Friday Funnies

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 8 Comments

Ah, Black Friday: The gift that keeps on giving. As some Walmart employees are agitating for a living wage, Sears customers in San Antonio are throwing hands and drawing firearms. Some people clearly did not enjoy enough mood-altering tryptophan on Thanksgiving.

At the higher-end shops, meanwhile, those mannequins you’re inspecting are inspecting you right back, with cameras and facial-recognition software not unlike that used by les flics. Hey, there’s one … whoops, nope, it’s just Mitt Romney.

Meanwhile, here’s something to leave on the shelf, no matter where we are in the shopping season. And fuck Weepy John Boehner and the horses’ asses he rode in on.

Twilight of the dogs

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 21 Comments
Riding into the sunset
Is the sun setting on the American Experiment? Just remember, things always look their darkest just before everything goes totally black.

Looks kind of rural and peaceful, doesn’t it? A fisherman stands by a mountain lake just before sundown. …

Actually, it’s a pond upstream from a water-treatment plant in north-central Bibleburg. The place is surrounded by high-traffic roads, a dog-boarding operation and a hamburger stand. And it wasn’t nearly as dark as the iPhone thought it was when I shot this pic on yesterday’s afternoon ride.

Likewise, things aren’t nearly as dark as they appear to be as the minority of Americans who actually take part in their representative democracy prepare to do so once more tomorrow.

Yes, there will be voting problems, both manmade and heaven-sent. And yes, fully half the people who intend to cast ballots are clinically insane, woefully unqualified to operate the napkin dispenser at a burger joint, much less the right to vote.

But I cling to the faint hope that there may be slightly more of us than there are of them, and urge you to drag your deeply disappointed selves down to your neighborhood polling place tomorrow, and take two or three friends and neighbors with you.

Unless you plan to vote for the RomneyBot v2.012, that is. Then please to stay home, clinging bitterly to your guns and religion.

RomneyBot’s Mendacity Engine working overtime

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 6 Comments

There is nothing about which Mitt Romney will not lie. Not even the murder of a U.S. ambassador and the current president’s response to the crime.

Kevin Drum has the nuts and bolts of it (heavy on the nuts). Read it and weep, because this asshole could be the next resident of the Oval Office if we’re not careful.

Consider the firestorm of outrage had it been a Democratic candidate who had the effrontery to cobble together this shameless political attack out of whole cloth after four of our ambassadors were killed while serving the nation abroad. Home Depot would sell out of pitchforks, torches and rope before Denny’s served its first Grand Slam of the morning.