Blog of the Day.

BlameBush!
Because Bush is to Blame for Everything.

Highly entertaining, but do NOT tell the you-know-whats. They won't get it.

Her are a few recent samples:

One of the first things every child learns is how to play nicely with others. It's a skill that requires a willingness to compromise - that is, bend over and blindly acquiesce without demanding anything in return. Throughout his career, John Bolton has demonstrated that he cannot play nicely with others. Indeed, he's little more than a playground bully who will put the interests of his country above the needs of the International Community. A congressionally appointed envoy to the United Nations should not be a swaggering cowboy, but rather a nurturing, multi-breasted nursemaid upon whose giant teats developing third-world countries can perpetually suckle. Unless I am mistaken, John Bolton has no teats. All he has is a string of Top 40 hits and some rather intimidating facial hair.
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Hot Enough for Ya?

For months now, I've watched the thermometer on my patio slowly rise, each day slightly warmer than the one before it, while Bush does nothing. But with temperatures across the country now rivalling those of the Martian surface, it's becoming difficult for even the Chimp to ignore the wholesale destruction his environmental policies have done to our planet.

Take Death Valley, California, for instance. A lush, tropical paradise during the Clinton administration, a treasured national park is now little more than a barren desert wasteland. Acres of marshy wetlands have transformed into lifeless salt flats. Almost overnight, vibrant communities full of working families have become veritible ghost towns as thousands of residents flee in search of cooler climes.

Those unfortunate enough to live in my home town of Las Vegas are paying for their devotion to war hero John Kerry with the deadliest summer in recorded history. Ten have died so far, mostly homeless people, hookers, crack dealers - the working poor who traditionally vote democrat. They were hit hard with Bush's tax cuts for the rich, but now even the sun, it seems, has turned against them.

And if you think I'm lucky to have escaped Sin City, think again. A winter wonderland just six or seven months ago, the Pacific Northwest is now experiencing temperatures in the sweltering 80's. Our once booming ski industry has all but shut down. I can't even sit inside Starbuck's enjoying a refreshing iced mocha for two or three hours without my bratty right-wing neice screaming and crying to be let out of the car. I teach her a valuable lesson about Bush's Greenhouse Effect, and I'm the bad guy. Permalink

Anyway, I decided to make the best of the situation and planned a raucous, two-day marathon of transcendental meditation at my favorite zen garden. I thought it would be a great opportunity for the two of us to connect as uncym and neice, but Cassie scrunched up her face at the proposal and made a snotty remark about not wanting to "sit around watching rocks grow all weekend". Instead, she demanded I take her to the drag races.
As much as I abhor the unegalitarian barbarism of competitive sports, a day spent absorbing the rich culture of the cross-dressing community would be good for the little fascist. So I happily agreed to treat little Kinsey to a day at the races, and even promised to leave the Nappy Time® Child Safety Tazer at home.

Imagine my surprise when, upon arriving at the event, I suddenly realized that they were not racing gender dysphoric homosexuals gussied up like giant sequined ostriches, but frigging CARS! VERY LOUD cars, as a matter of fact. Before I knew what was happening, I had already ruined a perfectly good pair of prototype ultra-absorbent hemp underwear thanks to Bush and his thinly veiled campaign fundraiser. Indeed, the entire spectacle was little more than an elaborate Bush scheme to glorify the automobile while siphoning money from the very same slack-jawed sheeple who helped him steal the office!

Anyway, what I'm getting at is that with babysitting little Miss I-Can-Quote-Ayn-Rand-From-Memory while trying desperately to re-allign my rattled chakras, PLUS performing JURY DUTY (no doubt punishment for signing that petition to make Susan Sontag's birthday a national holiday), blogging will be sporadic this week. I hope to be back on a regular schedule by Monday. Permalink

Remember Screw Abstinence, kiddies? This is my personal fave (so far):

Screw Abstinence!

Hillary was right: abortion is a sad, even tragic choice to many, many womyn. But as any abortionist will tell you, planned pregnancies don't put food on the table. You can't fuel up your Ferarri with living babies, baby! That's why I was proud to spend my Thursday night at Seattle's first annual Screw Abstinence Party and Charity Abort-o-thon. Hosted by NARAL, a non-profit organization dedicated to keeping abortionists out of the poor house, "Screw Abstinence" promised to be fun for the whole family - and it did not disappoint. More than a thinly veiled singles event for people who would otherwise never get laid, Screw Abstinence was a plethora of informative displays, talented performers, and exciting thrill rides - and all for a good cause.

While the Giant Scaling Wall of Dildos and other areas of the event were geared strictly towards adults, I had the privilege of operating the amazing "It's a Lousy World" ride for the kiddies. Both fun and educational, It's a Lousy World was a leisurely gondola ride through a stylized Reproductive Health Clinic, while a menagerie of animatronic fetuses sang a joyful song in 16 different languages about how splendid it was to be aborted, rather than shuffled from foster home to foster home all their miserable lives.
Screw Abstinence also entertained the kids with a wide array of colorful, costume characters. Making a special appearance at this year's event was Back Alley Betty, a gaunt, gnarled old crone and a dead ringer for Ann Coulter. With a Bible in one hand a rusty coat hanger in the other, Betty wandered the crowd, screeching scripture at unsuspecting tots. Along with Partial Birth Abortion Pete, Betty has drawn some criticism for being too graphic for small children. But she paints an accurate picture of the bleak future these kids will face should they fail to exercise their Right to Choose.

For the teens, there was the "Kids are Going to Do it Anyway" booth, where young boys and girls were encouraged to explore their sexuality in a clean, safe environment away from the prying eyes of their fuddy-duddy parents. Unlike what Bush and Co. preach in their abstinence-only sex-ed programs, our young people must learn that human sexuality is a beautiful thing and experimentation is healthy and completely natural. Do we demand that monkeys remain monogamous? Do we ask dogs humping in the front yard to hold off until marriage? Of course not. So why do we ask it of our own kids?

Because Christian Fundamentalists have spent the past two thousand years turning casual sex with complete strangers into something dirty, that's why.

Archealogical evidence suggests that cro-magnon man, although primitive, had a highly progressive concept of human sexuality. A typical cro-magnon male would copulate with 100 to 200 partners in his lifetime, and had no weird psychological hang-ups concerning buggery. It's a shame that Christians have regressed our culture to a state that predates even prehistoric man.

Indeed, with all their right-wing mumbo jumbo about abstinence and monogamy, it's a wonder that conservatives haven't forced more abortionists out of work. Hopefully, with the help of NARAL and other organizations like it, we'll see to it that they never do. Permalink

Pure gold. It makes me wish I knew how to blog.