…and, once again, sorry for having been away from the window for so long. I’m still alive, though. In between working my fingers to a nub to pay the bills that keep growing faster than any amount of cash infusions seem to be able to keep up with.
Just about ready to shut everything down, find a nice cave to live in and declare myself a hermit. Bill collectors oughtn’t be able to find me there.
But enough blah.
It’s been an interesting Christmas, hasn’t it? First we get the “gift” of the Senate passing a bill wasting another $2.5 trillion (low ball estimate, and why don’t we take it with zeroes on?: $2,500,000,000,000) and forcing every living soul in this country to subscribe to death panel supervised “care” or else go to jail. A tax on being alive. How sweet. All passed courtesy of Ben Nelson (D-Whorehouse) who suddenly decided that his “deeply held principled opposition to funding abortions” were less deeply held than his belief in taking a fat bribe while letting his constituents take it up the poop chute.
That parasite gives two bit harbor whores a bad name. At least they perform a service in return for their money.
And then the sheer awesomeness of the Age of Obongo where passengers, once again, are forced to save their own lives because Janet Napolitano and the Dept. of Homeland Insecurity can’t be arsed to put terrorists with known ties to other terrorists on a “no fly list.” She and the Southern Poverty Law Center are too busy classifying everybody who has ever disagreed with socialism and/or taken the Oath of Allegiance and meant it a “terrorist.” Oh, sorry. They’re not “terrorists.” They’re “causers of man-made disasters.” Unless they’re not mooselimbs.
Ogabe, the Savior of Mankind, couldn’t be arsed for comment since he was tied up playing golf in Hawaii. At least he wasn’t reading “my pet goat”, because that would have been just plain… Irresponsible. Not to mention lewd. We all know how his kind reacts to nubile goats, don’t we?
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Unless you happen to be an unsuspecting goat with an inviting rear end, that is.
What else? Oh yes, the unveiling of the Ogabes’ Christmas (or should that be “Holiday”) Tree at the White House, complete with Chairman Mao ornaments. We must celebrate commie mass murderers. Oh, and one with a transvestite and another with Ogabe’s simian mug superimposed over Mt. Rushmore.
We don’t know if it qualifies him, but his ego surely is bigger than Mt. Rushmore.
Would that his intellect or qualifications were bigger than a paramecium.
It amazes His Imperial Majesty. We always used to think that Caligula’s making his horse Senator and getting away with it was the most perfect example of just how idiotically complacent so-called free people are, but then the people of this once free and proud nation decided to outdo him by naming the horse’s arse President.
But hey, we’ll have a tea party, write a bunch of petitions and then we’ll just go back to taking it up the Khyber Pass.
After all, what can we possibly do more than that?
Our forefathers at Lexington and Concord might have a few suggestions, but who gives a fuck about them anymore?
Sorry. I’m tired, poor and increasingly resigned to the victorious march of idiocy. Idiots outnumber us, and as long as we let their say have the same weight as ours, we’re fighting a losing battle.
There’s strength in numbers.
There is also mindnumbing stupidity in it.
But our kids and grandkids will surely forgive us, right? After all, we only did what was right and proper.