Archive for September, 2010
Christine, I wanted to let you know that I really do appreciate your stance on masturbation. Your concerns about sex, considering you’re a non-participant, are very…….touching.
However, I have a few questions for you, you witchy twitchy woman.
In that stance of yours I mentioned above, how many inches apart are your cankles, and how long can you maintain that stance while wearing torn fish net hose and 6″ black stiletto high heels? You know, the kind that makes your pelvis sort of push forward?
As a mature and single woman who has perhaps past her expiration date, does it bother you to know that I find you oddly attractive in a matronly kind of way, somewhat like a reform school guard in an old movie, sent by central casting? Sometimes, you seem even more warm than Sarah Palin, but then you can betcha she’s had a lot more political candidate coaching.
And further, does it bother you that on occasion (i.e., today) I might just like to settle down on my sofa and rub one out thinking about you?
If so, hold on and maybe I’ll do it for you…
I originally wanted to title this posting “Carly Fiorina uses a back-door method to take Koch to help finance her campaign”, but all of that just wouldn’t fit on the subject line.
Carly Fiorina has been pandering to the billionaire industrialist brothers David and Charles Koch a lot, those same Uber-Wealthy billionaire brothers who have quietly and almost single-handedly bankrolled the far-right Tea Party movement and convinced morons that what’s good for the very very rich will be good for them if they should hit the Lotto. The funding she’s getting doesn’t actually match the 120+ million that her BFF Meg Whitman has invested in herself, but is quite substantial just the same. And all she had to roll over for in exchange was to give the Koch Industries PAC support in their effort to push their greedy plans to lower capital gains taxes and get rid of those pesky environmental regulations like lower carbon emissions by supporting the campaign for Proposition 23 in California (again, google it).
Quoting Tim Rutten in the Los Angeles Times, “This month, Sacramento Bee columnist Dan Morain noted that, while the brothers’ oil companies stand to profit mightily from Proposition 23′s passage, they also have an interest in seeing that other states don’t emulate California’s attempt to reduce carbon emissions. Two years ago, this state adopted model air-quality regulations curbing cancer-causing emissions of formaldehyde in the forest products industry. Federal interest in adopting similar curbs is causing Georgia-Pacific no end of grief”. So, much like the always warm and charming Meg Whitman, they aren’t spending their money, they’re actually investing it now against their expected big returns downstream.
I’m not sure which Koch is which, but the old Koch on the left looks like a photoshop up-aged version of John C. McGinley from “Scrubs”, the somewhat dim looking Koch on the right just looks like you’d suppose that his limo would be of the short yellow variety, if you get my drift. I have to guess that they should be thankful that their father didn’t choose to name them A. Harry or Hugh G. Koch.
The Kochs manage America’s second-largest privately held company, Koch Industries, which is made up of oil, gas, pipeline, chemical, fertilizer and wood products companies, including the above mentioned Georgia-Pacific.
As of 2010, the Koch brothers combined assets have the country’s third-largest fortune of around $35 billion, closely following Bill Gates and Warren Buffett. These smarmy bastards are the personification of what you might find if you google “Greed Gone Wild”, and they still want more.
And it will, and in the not too distant future.
To see where those Nikita producers F’d up in casting, catch Ms. Grace Park, the tough girl cop in the new Hawaii 5-0 show, and imagine how those weasels must be kicking themselves now for missing an actress with actual “chops”, that is to say, one who can actually act, i.e.:
Instead we get a vapid Maggie Q with an expression that’s between bemused and blank, a Paris Hilton look.
Added information 9-22-2010 below
Everything I said above about Grace Park still goes, but after seeing Gugu Mbatha-Raw (I couldn’t make that name up even if I was still using psychedelics) kick serious ass and pop off a LAW shot from a speeding (?) Lada * in the premier of JJ Abrams new show “Under Cover” I now have to multiply by at least 10.
*Lada, a Soviet clone of the boxy 1960′s Fiat 124
So, “a speeding Lada” is an Oxymoron
Barack Obama missed his big chance to give a short and to the point speech yesterday, one that might have helped his chances for re-election in a few years to move up a notch or two.
It’s quite a simple speech and one that’s impossible to refute, and it could have gone something like this:
“My fellow Americans, I’ve come to realize that I’ve made a major misstep during my first term, and this is because I didn’t ask a key question of the many Republicans that I’ve tried to reach out to and achieve some sort of compromise on the many issues that face us. I ought to have been asking them if they’re able to find a way to break free from their lockstep pattern of block voting, and be Americans first and Republicans second”.
Perhaps Mr. Obama would have taken a little pause at this point, and then finished with:
“To be fair, to some extent we have found this problem also exists in the Democratic party as well, and I’m working on it.
Thank you for your time,
Yeah, What Would Jerry Do?
Here’s a quote from Samuel Johnson (1709 to 1784), a guy who it seems was way ahead of his time:
“When a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight it concentrates his mind wonderfully”
As often happens when working freelance and things are slow, I got to thinking and wondered what I’d do if I knew exactly what my life span was going to amount to, i.e., when am I going to leave the big auditorium?
Yeah, so I have a finite amount of time left on-planet, we all do. I don’t know about all of the aspects, but I’m fairly sure that no one gets out of here alive.
In an attempt to organize things (o.k., perhaps a few decades too late) I started to break it down from one month to one week to 12 hours to 1 hour, in an attempt to figure out the best use of the dynamic range of it each period.
If I knew that I had only one month to live, for starts I would blow off all my worries about my weight. Next, being an atheist I’d just the same continue doing my own version of “My Name Is Earl”. This is a routine that I’ve been doing for the past few years, apologizing for the countless times I’ve caused problems for people. I don’t believe there’s a heaven or a hell (other than working for Disney), but I figured that I’d try to cover my bets just the same. It’s sort of like that ‘Vegas over and under thing……..
If I knew that I had only one week to live, I’d spend my days trying to be sure that I’ve tied up all the loose ends to my life so no one has to clean up after me, no one would find old love letters or a stash of my old porn (this happened to more than one of my friends), no one should be stuck paying off my old bills, that sort of stuff.
If I knew that I had only 12 hours to live, I’d do a much, much shorter version of “My Name Is Earl”, doing it on the phone and calling as many people as I could remember that I had caused grief for or otherwise screwed up their lives, and apologize.
Barbara, you’d be at the top of that list.
If I found out that I only had exactly one hour to live, I would do as much as possible of whatever of the above I could manage, but I’d have to find some way to set some time aside for: