Category: Stupidity

Friday Funnies (preview edition)

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 26 Comments
Livewrong
Think Big Tex will suit up on Friday?

Some folks are expecting The Cyclist Who Shall Not Be Named (TCWSNBN) to ‘fess up on Friday in Austin, during a fund-raising hoo-hah marking the 15th anniversary of Livestrong.

Alas, while Bob Dylan famously noted that “even the president of the United States/Sometimes has to stand naked,” I don’t see The Boss pantsing himself in front of all those yellow rubber bracelets. Anyone who wants to see that hard ass in the cool breeze is gonna have to take an active role, and they’d best pack a lunch, ’cause Big Tex plays for keepsies.

My fabulously uninformed opinion is that he’ll use the occasion for yet another spirited defense of the indefensible, maybe launch a line of yellow rubber crucifixes, and fight a bloody, noisy delaying action until the last lawyer sprawls dead at his feet. I don’t see surrender. I see the Alamo.

Let’s assume for argument’s sake that he’s as guity as a yellow dog caught collar-deep in a trash can full of chicken bones, bacon grease and Benjamin Franklins. Where’s the percentage in coming clean now? The UCI has yet to weigh in — Fat Paddy and Lyin’ Hein are still trying to get their big-boy pants screwed on, I expect — and then there’s always the Court of Arbitration for Sport.

And besides, the only people who would buy a weepy mea culpa at this point are the Walking Deadstrong, that hard core of soft brains who, if they saw him mainlining EPO in a porta-potty at a sprint tri’, would blame Greg, Betsy, Tyler, Floyd and Obama, in that order.

I’ve been wrong before, and often in spectacular fashion. But I don’t see Big Tex coming clean until the End Times are truly upon him, which will be when the money runs out. Then he’ll “write” a tell-all book, hit the rubber chicken/morning talk show circuit and get back on that gravy train.

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.

It’s not the heat, it’s the stupidity, part 2

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 7 Comments
The Waldo Canyon fire
The Waldo Canyon fire, as seen from a couple blocks west of Chez Dog.

Sonofabitch. Now we’ve got a live one encroaching upon greater cosmopolitan Bibleburg.

Dubbed the Pyramid Mountain fire, it started somewhere near Waldo Canyon and is already estimated at some 600 acres. An assortment of mandatory and voluntary beat-it orders are in place for west- and north-siders, but at the moment it seems the prevailing winds are pushing the thing north and west, so Your Humble Narrator is not in danger — at the moment, anyway — of becoming a hot dog, har har.

The fire has been declared a federal emergency, and renowned feddle-gummint rassler Dougie Lamborn (R-Hypocrisy) reportedly “stands ready to assist if federal resources are required.” In light of the serious nature of the event I’ll refrain from delivering the obvious ironic rimshot.

More as we hear it.

• Late update: The fire is now officially named for Waldo Canyon (no “Where’s Waldo? jokes, please), and late word is that it’s torched a couple thousand acres and displaced about as many people. Nobody hurt so far, according to the local rumormongers, which is good. You can replace burned-up people, just like you can replace burned-up stuff, but the process takes longer and the outcome is uncertain.

The winds seem to have died down, but it’s always creepy to look at the sky at 9:30 p.m. and see peach-colored clouds and a moon that looks like an orange slice from some kid’s Halloween candy haul.

It’s not the heat, it’s the stupidity

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 5 Comments

Jeebus. Four days of record-breaking heat in Bibleburg and more on the way. Lord, I know it was supposed to be the fire next time — I just wasn’t expecting it so soon.

Speakings of fires, have I mentioned that we’ve got ’em out the wazoo? Up near Lake George, around Fort Collins, at Pagosa Springs and around Mesa Verde, for starters.

The Springer fire near Lake George is thought to have been human-caused, if you can describe as “human” one or more of the lesser primates banging away at a propane tank with the old smokepole. Yes, that’s the rumor behind the news, as The Firesign Theatre would put it. And the crazier the rumor, the greater the likelihood that it’s true. We also have a serial arsonist lighting up the roadside grasses in Teller County. Good times.

The menagerie and I are left alone to endure this smoky pestilence, Herself having pissed off to Mouse Country for some class of library confab at which they all dress severely, put their hair up in buns and practice the hissing of “Shh!” at each other. Just as well, I suppose, as the metaphorical flames of multiple deadlines are licking around my feet and I can’t seem to stomp them out fast enough, which makes me unpleasant company.

And at least we still have a pot to piss in and a window to throw it out of, unlike a whole bunch of folks up in Larimer County, whose homes are now portable, fitting neatly into their cars’ ashtrays. Makes a shit monsoon feel like a gentle summer rain.

No May flowers in jobs report

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 3 Comments

One wonders what goes through the president’s mind as he awakens each morning. Probably something like, “Aw, shit.”

The May jobs numbers suck, thanks in part to the Elefinks’ relentless croaking of anything resembling actual job-creation measures.

Here in Bibleburg, the unemployment rate nudged up to 9.2 percent in April, considerably worse than the statewide average of 7.9 percent, which is only marginally better than the 8.2 percent rate nationwide. The figures indicate that more than 28,000 of my friends and neighbors were looking for work, while an unknown number have simply given up the hunt.

And the folks who are supposed to be empowered to have a go at doing something about this? They’re too busy running for office, running from their records, or simply running their mouths.

As Charles P. Pierce notes: “We have 300,000 long-term unemployed who, all evidence indicates, their government largely has abandoned, and about whom their country’s corporate landlords could care even less. Perhaps this isn’t the best time in history for the president to be boasting regularly about how much federal spending he’s cut.”

Charles, a wiser and funnier man than I, warns that the prez “cannot win re-election on the merits if he’s mixing pale middle-class nostrums with deficit-hawk snake oil.” Troo dat, Brother Pierce. If enough Donks and indies get depressed, say “Fuck it” and stay home on Election Day, leaving Teh Crazy to jerk levers from San Fran to Savannah, we will be enjoying the tender mercies of President Romney come 2013.