Keep Your Head Down, And Your Powder Dry

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2nd Amendment, abortion, debt ceiling, Humor, life in the meadow, Mitt Romney, NRA, Virginia, Women's reproductive rights

It’s never too early to become paranoid.

Just a friendly warning.

For some unknown reason the phrase from Richard III keeps running through my head. No, not “a horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!”

Rather, “now is the winter of our discontent.”

And that’s odd since this winter has been a wimp. Shhh, forget I said that, don’t want to jinx it now when it’s only a week until Spring, more or less. Paranoia you know.

And I’m not especially discontent either, in case you were wondering. Not particularly content but not discontent, or uncontent. Call me bi-content. No sexual in-u-end-o implied.

We’re going to mini-shop today. That’s not full shopping, no dis-shopping, or bi-shopping, but mini. Mini is a more than picking up a quart of milk and some eggs and less than stocking up for the apocalypse shopping. It’s shopping at the “bad store” which is more properly called a “market” because it certainly is not super. It could be a grocery store back in the 60’s when markets were “mom and pop” operations and grocery stores were things like the A&P. Then came really really large grocery stores, and we started calling them supermarkets. That was wrong, since they are in no way markets and are more properly called supergroceries. 

Got all that? I like things to be orderly and logical. Wal-Mart is not logical. Supermarkets are not logical, because they have a whole lot more in them than super groceries. As you no doubt know, you can bank, get your hair done, get glasses, drink Starbucks, eat a full freakin’ meal, visit the deli, buy clothes, electronics, hardware, books, music, jewelry, drugs, alcohol, toys, carpeting, and sign up for liposuction. Well maybe not the last. But heck, in LA? possibly.

¶

Have I mentioned how much I dearly love hypocrisy?

Which is great, since the GOP delivers it up by the shovelful each and every day for my enjoyment.

Dear Willard has taken to attacking Ragin’ Rick on his voting to raise the debt-ceiling a bunch of times when Bushie was doin’ the asking. Remember Republicans didn’t get offended at this until 2008. Before that, they did it all quite routinely.

Anyways, Willard was on his usual rant, talking about how fiscally bad old Rick was, and don’t ya just know, while he was saying all those things, he is standing right smack next to, on the same podium, having been endorsed by, new BFF, Sen. Robert Portman (R-OH, who had (wait for it . . .) voted for an increase in the debt ceiling right along side Ricky all those Bushy years.

But no, it gets worse! Portman was Bush’s budget director, so he was part of the team ASKING FOR THE DEBT CEILING INCREASES!

Oh, Lord am I loving this campaign season. I feel like I either captured the goose that laid the golden egg or I have awakened in Midas’ treasure room. Oh my gosh, I may have a serious female moment.

¶

Picked this up from the Fifth Column. A picture is, as we know, worth a thousand words.

Every day the GOP focuses on social issues, is another day Obama gains.

I guess ridicule works a bit. The Virgin-ya Governor is having a few second thoughts about the probe-your-girl-stuff-before-your-abortion bill.  It’s been delayed while he “looks for a compromise.”

Meanwhile somewhere in GA, a Democrat has introduced a ban on vasectomies, saying they “deprive millions of unborns their chance at life.” It’s a joke, but of course, that is lost on a segment of the duh Right.

I just can’t reconcile why it is bad for the government to set standards for school lunches but good that they poke around in my uterus. Where is the logic? But that would be asking a bit much from the average TeaNutz® wouldn’t it?

If only the poor Republicans could encase their “candidate” in a vacuum, keeping them pristine. Out in the real world, they begin to rust all too soon, and then crumble through their hands into dust. And then they go in search of another. I’d pick a new steel mill to buy from if I were them. Or is that a tin mill?

The logic of the absurd: Next to hypocrisy, I love circular logic best. Fact: since elected, President Obama has not pushed for one single bill that in any way limits gun ownership or acquiring guns in this country. This of course does not deter the flaming nuts. One such nut, IRA chief-sky-is-falling-buy-a-gun nut, Wayne LaPierre, insists that all this is just camouflage for what is to come.

“Lip service to gun owners is just part of a massive Obama conspiracy to deceive voters and hide his true intentions to destroy the Second Amendment during his second term.

We see the president’s strategy crystal clear: Get re-elected and, with no more elections to worry about, get busy dismantling and destroying our firearms’ freedom, erase the Second Amendment from the Bill of Rights and excise it from the U.S. Constitution. …

When the sun goes down on election day Barack Obama will have America’s gun owners to thank for his defeat.”

Now, those who sniff a bit too much gunpowder, see it this way: Vote for Obama, it’s good for gun and ammo sales!

Well, I’m soon off on the mini-trip to secure some victuals. Wish me luck and safe journey. I am going into the belly of the beast–aka bad store.

The Enemy Within Peeking Out, While In

Tags

Calvin and Hobbes, Election 2012, funny animals, GOP, Humor, Women's reproductive rights

Yesterday I got an e-mail by a Facebook friend, asking me to visit her new page. On it, I found what I believe was an alternate persona, some dame called Sugarpuss something or other.

I thought, wow, what a fine idea. Maybe I should do that, develop this alternate persona who could be the crazy bad me–you know, the one with all the weird and naughty ideas. Then I could be the intellectually pure, astoundingly brilliant political maven that you all really know that I am deep down.

So, I thought about it.

But then, I remembered the motto I live by, well one of several actually, but no matter.

And it is:

Everything in life can be answered by an episode of Star Trek.

It’s true. Really, and that’s the intellectually pure side of me speaking.

In the episode entitled The Enemy Within, a transporter malfunction, returns two separated Kirks. (Now now, don’t say the obvious) We soon learn that one carries all the evil and negative emotions of Kirk, the other all the nice ones. Of course the whole episode is about discovering that there are two, and then figuring out how to put them back together, but the point was more important.

We are dysfunctional without our two “sides”. The evil side is destructive and dictatorial and completely narcissistic. The nice side is weak, ineffectual an unable to make a decision about anything. Only together are we whole.

So, paying attention to my motto, I determined that I would not in fact split two for one after all.

Whew, I bet you are glad of that!

It is practical as well, this joining of good and bad. It allows me to maintain my sanity in the face of “life with the Contrarian”. I should tell you, that he is older than I, yet assumes that I am the one reaching for senility and not himself. So here are a couple of things he’s “helped” me out with in the last week.

Seeing a mass of eggs in a pan on the stove, I innocently asked, “I thought you were going to have soft-boiled eggs for breakfast?”

“I did,” he answered.

“So these are soft?” I queried.

“No, they are hard,” he responded.

I looked puzzled, and he informed me, “dear, if you leave the soft-boiled eggs in the hot water longer, they will become hard.”

He began to chuckle and I began to fume.

This was followed yesterday with this?

“I love these Geico ads with the pig,” I smiled (the pig rides a zip line and now rides a street luge).

“I just love how his little toes wiggle.”

“I wonder if it’s a real little pig?”

“No dear,” he said professorially, “real pigs can’t talk.”

He began to chuckle, and I began to fume.

Life is like this a lot with the Contrarian. It would not be a good thing if I was evil. Not a good thing at all.

So Newt has seen the polls that show that nobody much, likes him.

That’s pretty much been Newt’s story since he was five.

His mom pretty much didn’t like him.

I don’t know that for a fact, but I’m pretty sure I’m right.

Newt goes to zoos to look for friends.

I’m not sure that is such a good idea either.

Animals don’t like to be reminded of their ancestors.

I’d advise he stay away from the sloth exhibit.

Don’t you think Newt looks a little slothish?

I like sloths, and I doubt they would like the comparison.

Since Adelson has dumped another 10 million on Newt’s bouncin’ belly, I’m pretty sure Newt has promised to convert to Judaism if he becomes the nominee.

Or declare that that Gefilte Fish is the national dish.

One or the other.

Some men are funny.

Some men are Republicans.

All Republicans are funny.

And most of them (Republicans) are dumber than ear wax.

Bill Maher said that Ricky and Willard are against contraception because sex is for procreation. Newtie is against it because it’s hard for fat men to get on a condom in the back seat of a car.

I was going off to buy me a bottle of aspirin, when the Contrarian reminded me that I’m post menopausal. I need to go ask a Republican what I should do next.

“Reality continues to ruin my life.”

“I’m killing time while I wait for life to shower me with meaning and happiness.”

“You know, Hobbes, some days even my lucky rocket ship underpants don’t help.”

“I’m not dumb. I just have a command of thoroughly useless information.”

“I’ve been thinking Hobbes”
“On a weekend?”
“Well, it wasn’t on purpose”

“Sometimes I think that the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us.”

“Why waste time learning when ignorance is instantaneous.”

I Learnt It, So You Doh’nt Halve Ta

Tags

basketball, blogging, contraception, GOP, humjor, Mitt Romney, search terms, Women's reproductive rights

Wanna go ride on my yacht?

Well, I do try.

I got to thinking this morning, “Sherry, old girl, just what have you learned this week?” And I said, wow, when you think about it, I learned a real lot.

And it would be simply wrong if you wasted your time searching out all this stuff on your own. We should work together, you know what I mean? So, here, nice and suck-cint, you can get all my know-it-all-ledge fer free.

So, without further ado (whatever ado is–a challenge for you!), let me get right to it.

First of all, I was pissed. I was really p.o.’d to learn that I was wasting all my youthful years counting pills and trying to remember to take one every day, except the seven days I wasn’t supposed to, and screwin’ it up half the time and then worryin’ about whether I was gonna get “that time of the month” or not. ‘

All I had to do, was get some damn aspirin.

I am thinkin’ about suing my gynecologist, if he is still alive.

Second, I learned (I’m slow, what can I say) that the Republican party is pretty much criminally perverted. Those white boys (most of  ’em are you know) have an inordinate interest in my ‘gina. The Virginie (Virgin get it? how freakin’ ironic is that?) Governor, whom some say wants to be Willard’s VEEP, should Willard EEP over Rut-roh Ricky, is poised to sign a bill that REQUIRES any “with child” female to have her lady parts probed by some instrument just to remind her that indeed she is preggers.

Now, besides being a sick invasion of my right to keep my legs together when I want to, it’s all the more evidence that these loonies don’t get any (men call it nookie) at home, or what they do get is of such poor quality that they obsess about it 24/7.

If you didn’t hear, Mr. Issa, (a busybody if there ever was one) had a hearing yesterday about ladies SEX-UAL rights, and the whole discussion was between a bunch of guys (what’s new about that I ask ya), and some of ’em even swear (which is only a promise to do their very best after all) off wimmen all together, but seem to know best what we should or shouldn’t do with our junk, if women’s ladies parts can be called junk, like guys boy parts are now called junk. Or is women’s junk only in the trunk? I get confused.

And I guess that when you swear to be a Republican, you are injected with some stupid ink, because even Scott Brown, the upset Massachewwww-sets Senator, who is trying to stave off that nice Elizabeth Warren, signed on to a  bill that would allow any business owner of ANYTHING the right to deny contraceptive coverage or any other health coverage that “violated his religious beliefs.”  Has he lost his mind?

I mean, there are some freakin’ idiotic religions out there, (and I don’t judge mind ya) but I sure don’t like the idea that some person can decide not to fund cancer care because God punishes people for not trusting in prayer and braying at the moon at 11 pm each night for a fortnight, all the while flipping a cold pancake in a skillet. (Trust me, if you look hard enough you will find such a religion.)

Well, are we only at three? Thirdly I learned that Neil Degrasse Tyson has gotta resign as a astrophysicist. This according to the Daily Show’s, Larry Wilmore. You see, Dr. Tyson is an African-American, and in a field of endeavor that is usually reserved for Asians (Michio Kaku, duh). By entering said field, he has upset the balance of the universe, which is why this kid Jeremy Lin has become this phenom in basketball, the unquestioned domain of the African-American world. So the universe demands a-righting. Certainly this makes sense.

Fourthly, I learned that a ton of folks who come to this blog come looking for themselves. This is proven by the following search terms that continue to lead:

• Your an idiot
• evolution jokes
• I’m stupid
• Elmer fudd

Now, I’m also, apparently a good place to learn about monkeys. Search terms “funny monkey weed in mouth,” and “monkeys having sex” are big here as well.

I am not sure what is going on with “vineyard bible” but I guess a lot of people find God in by imbibing wine.

I’m similarly confused about what “picture drowning in paper” is all about, but I suppose it relates to the fact that I continue to attract people not quite right in the head. Either that or Salvador Dali is alive and seeking inspiration.

Johnny Depp continues to be the most sought after search term. That just makes me smile. I wonder if he reads this. If so, I love you Mr. Depp, most respectfully of course. Of course.

Fifthly, or thereabouts, Willard said that the trees in Michigan are “just right”, as in height. I didn’t know that Michigan’s trees were different in height than say those in Maine or New Jersey, or even in tight-assed South Carolina. But he said he liked the height of the trees, and then went on to say that he loved the “lakes”. Not just the “great lakes” he assured, but all the other little lakes all over. And the cars, by God he loves the cars. He mentions Mustang a lot. If he can mention ten “facts” about Michigan, it means he’s connected to the state and you should vote for him. I guess that’s what it means.

Willard has an ad of him and his papa lookin’ out over something, except that it is not a scene from Michigan at all, but of some world’s fair, somewhere else. And the car that is featured is a Chrysler, and his dad ran GM which is not the same.

Willard is mixed up–a lot. I learned that real good. And he is trying to hard. It’s embarrassing. Really.

I’m wondering. Does the Mormon church teach that anyone who is President of the US get some special job in heaven? Willard seems so desperate.

Just sayin’.