Romney victory celebration

This evening, GOP primary election day, in South Carolina.

gee ... I guess religion really is important down here.

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The Left Speaks!

Well, the Rightist speaks on the left's behalf over on my new favorite blog, crack skull bob.

The artist's left hand goes out of control and commits a comic strip on love. Here is the explanation the Rightist gives:

This was a comic drawn many years ago by my left hand unbeknownst to the rest of my body. This was a frequent problem during my youth, my left hand being sullen and resentful because of the adulation showered upon my right hand. Kind of a Left of Eden scenario. Righty got to do all the spectacular cross-hatching and trumpet-fingering and imperious gesticulating, while Lefty was given menial jobs such as holding my penis while I urinated. Over the years he has mellowed somewhat, but every so often I will feel a vicious pinch on my left side, and will have to stop what I'm doing and stroke my left hand gently, crooning "Never you mind, left hand. Never you mind."

In my own corporeal dispensation it is the other way around. Occasionally I take the right hand out for a trot around the writing pad just so it won't get too sulky.

Though it shouldn't since I grew up in a rightist imperialistic dictatorship (aka the family) that forced, forced I say, me to learn to play all sports with the right hand.

Question of the week

That last post was too nice. So here.

From Crack Skull Square Space.

Brother-in-law joke.

A simple question from Pat Robertson. Carmen will understand.

at least he is not appearing in the Republican debates this time.

Without Comment

Greatest headline. Ever.

This morning as I scrolled through the Washington Post web page I saw an article with this headline:

"The Story You Are Looking For Was Inadvertently Published."

A few minutes later when I scrolled back to click on it - it was gone!

oops.

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It's academic now...

This morning which should have been afternoon except for the blessing of daylight savings time Carmen asked me a question that I am sure comes up around your breakfast table from time to time.

"Where did the expression "Ye gods and little fishes come from?"

I pondered this for a moment and replied, as is my wont, "How the %^$& should I know!"

Then we both ran off to the Machine and googled it.

No definitive answer. But there is a very British, and VERY academic article on the Oxford Journal web page. I read it out loud to Carmen in my plummiest voice and we discovered that it is also howlingly funny.

Just read it.

bloody scholars

I haven't done anything with movies for awhile...

.... so, since I am taking today off here it is.

The 15 worst movie titles of all time. In English anyway.

Who can forget "Santa Clause Conquers the Martians."
Who knew the jolly old elf was an imperialist warmonger.

Or "The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies."
Apparently, a musical.

And "Freddy Got Fingered."
With a subtitle of "This Time You Can't Change the Channel," which sounds like a threat. Once you are in the theatre - you're stuck!

Last night Carmen and I saw "Puss n Boots" with Miggs, Maeraed and Murty. It was fun. Miggs especially liked the sword fights. I liked the flamenco dancing. Maire was off in Charlotte doing wild things like drinking whiskey and visiting museum gift shops.

Enjoy your next movie.

no matter how bad the title.

The Newt

I know some smart people.

Smart people are friends of mine.

You sir, are no smart person.

So why do so many "smart" commentators think this over fried clown is the idea man of the Republican party.

oh. you mean in comparison.

Just because I like it

Do I need another reason.

What? It's my blog.

The True Timelord!

From icanhazcheezburger.com.

Tell the truth. You always suspected, right?

Corgi being bad

Actually, I'm not sure that springing a friend from stir really is "bad" per se....

... you can decide.

Cats can do anything

Here's one who's a gambler and figures out the best why to deal with the bozo who is trying to confuse him.

And here is one who talks like Bela Lugosi giving a puppy a massage. The puppy is not entirely comfortable.

I love how gambling kitty thinks about it all.

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In honor of the O'Bama clan

Both those over here and those over there. Sparked by the Prez' returning to the old sod. The Irish are delirious because between the charming Irish American chief executive and the Queen of that other place they have earned an extra $20 million from tourists.

So, a little musical tribute to the Irish, the near Irish, and the wanna be's.

A Dream of a Thousand Cats

Juxtaposition is everything.




First, watch this little video. (Carmen made me watch it, much as I dislike animals).

Then, read this little comic book story. Or should I call it a graphic novel? Or, "Sequential Art" (apparently the newest academic term for comic books). It is Neil Gaiman's now classic tale "A Dream of a Thousand Cats" from The Sandman series. Peculiarly addictive, by the way.

Adds a little something to the appreciation of "she's" motivation, don't you think?

Favorite quote:

Little one, I would like to see anyone -- prophet, king or god -- persuade a thousand cats to do anything at the same time.

I think I'll go play with Mosby Cat now. Ta.

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Well, he gets the girl

In an effort to make up for that post that some malcontent named Peacock took offense to, I hereby publish a picture of sexy bald guy Lex Luthor (not the gov. of a big state to the south) who has gotten a beautiful young lady.


Besides, my point was not to poke fun at folliclely challenged pates, but the gray paté beneath the pate.

and I am sure that Lex is a liberal democrat.

Watch it buster

Song for the day.

And now for something different. Courtesy of Carmen, a little song to while away this delightful May afternoon down here in the land of Wilkes:

The Lay of the Brave Sir Robin.

MINSTREL (singing):

Bravely bold Sir Robin, rode forth from Camelot.
He was not afraid to die, o Brave Sir Robin.
He was not at all afraid to be killed in nasty ways.
Brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Robin!
He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp,
Or to have his eyes gouged out, and his elbows broken.
To have his kneecaps split, and his body burned away,
And his limbs all hacked and mangled, brave Sir Robin!
His head smashed in and his heart cut out,
And his liver removed and his bowels unplugged,
And his nostrils ripped and his bottom burned off,
And his penis--

Here, the manuscript breaks off.

Mercifullly. From Carminae sacrae Britonorum de Radulfo lama glama admiratione, ms 144a, fol. 76 r, coll. pythonis.

Oh - it was about being WEIRD

OK. I have said often enough that the Tea Party is about nothing, in the Latin sense of Nihil. But after reading this amusing little article in the Washington Post I now realize it was about something: the state of social disintegration on the planet Trzzlinioch in the Alpha Centauri sector.

Wesbury [a Tea Party 'leader'] suggested that Republicans should show some “adult kind of behavior.”

This was a curious request coming from a group that included two men wearing tricorn hats and colonial costumes. Temple had a feather in his hat, carried a 5-foot musket and, without explanation, switched to a Scottish accent during the news conference. Next to him was a man dressed up as George Washington who read a 215-year-old passage.

read the article - it shows that the entire Republican congressional leadership has stepped out of the pentagram.

Why the Crusaders had so much trouble...

... taking Jerusalem.


collateral damage.