New Anti-War Plan

I don't quite understand the point of the new plan in which Bush would supposedly end up "politically embarassed." Who gives a shit? If Bush had any sense of shame or dignity he would have been embarassed long ago by the complete lack of WMDs in Iraq. He would have been embarassed by all the back tracking and lies that have been used as new reasons for the war. He would have been embarassed by the "Mission Accomplished" crap. He would have been embarassed by the reports of all the wounded that aren't receiving medical care. He would have been embarassed when he cut the budget for Veterans Affairs. He would have been embarassed by these things and by so much more if it were at all possible for him to feel embarassed.

Let's face it, people. Bush couldn't feel embarassed if the most popular video on YouTube was one of him running around naked on the White House lawn herding sheep and pigs and having a mud fight with Laura and Condi and then the Secret Service drop a K of Bolivian Marching Powder on the mess and the three of them proceed to go totally bonobo on each other and all the animals in the barnyard that he has made out of the Rose Garden.

Bush wouldn't be embarassed by videos of him in a gimp suit blowing Rove in front of a cheering crowd of circle jerking Chiefs of Staff.

The man can not be embarassed. Let's get a plan that will have actual results and stop fucking around trying to make the Republican'ts look bad. They already look about as bad as they ever will. These fuckers have teflon hides and slip out of every scandal smelling like shit, crisco and coco butter. My advice to the Democrats is to FUCKING DO SOMETHING. The reason why we voted you in is the same reason we'll vote someone else in if you don't do it: WE NEED ACTUAL FUCKING CHANGE. Republican'ts know that they will always have a lock on their imbecillic supporters (the 28% that still believe) and they know that the people that actually want change will vote against those that won't make it.

GET OFF YOUR FUCKING ASS AND PUT IMPEACHMENT BACK ON THE TABLE.

Monday Morning Link Roundup

I was cruising the internets this morning and I found a few interesting pieces of drek.

Apparently, TUSTOSAN is not the sole source of the Tragic Tranny.


This is why I refuse to "come up" when I am drunk or she is drunk. What an asshole.

I found dontEATnachos holiday present that I should have gotten him two months ago. According to fulsome, I am still on time.

This is why I only buy Jiff

I am not really a name brand guy, but Jiff just tastes better. It also has the added benefit of No Added Salmonella. Anyway, I like Chuck Talyors because they make my feet happy even if they don't last more than a year, a requirement of any pair of shoes for which I pay more than 35 dollars. I like Levi's because they don't suck and die within 6 months. I have a pair of Levi's that I have been wearing since December of 2005. Not continuously or anything, I mean, I am not in Motley Crue. I have another pair that developed its first rip just last month after 18 months of wear. Fucking Wranglers just can't keep up with my active lifestyle. That is pretty much it for brands. And toothpaste? I have no brand loyalty at all. I buy whatever kind of multi-compound super-ultra, mega-cleaning, cavity-ass-whupping, anti-trichinosis toothpaste that is on sale. If it can also be used as grout or an oven cleaner, then that's just an added benefit.

This week may have been the longest time I went without mentiong my wang. My enormous wang. This may be a sign that I should retire the joke that has never really been funny except when other people joke about it. Like Brando.

Heee heee

Medicine ball. Hee hee.

Life isn't ugly all the time

My office was a closet before we renovated the building. For some reason, this closet had three windows, one exterior. The exterior window is drafty and in all purposes other than admitting light, it is a totally inferior window. The interior window behind my monitor looks out over the foyer and into the kitchen/dining room. The foyer has a plexiglass ceiling that leaks. It rained for a few minutes while the sun shined today. The light filtered through the splashing rain drops on the plexiglass was pretty cool and glittery and shiny.

A New Assignments

I have been given a research assignment to help some people decorate for a party. The theme is '80s porn. I don't really see the attraction of a theme of this type, but this is not my party. All I remember about '80s porn is big fake boobs, peroxide dye jobs and obnoxious fake orgasms. I will be researching the highest selling pornos from the 1980s but the question I put to you: What were the iconic pornos from the '80s? Were there any?

C.H.U.D. may have some information.

New Week, New Apartment, Same Shit All Over the Sidewalk

I have finished moving and just need a few days to get all my crap sorted and stacked in piles that would make a paranoid schizophrenic weep. Someday, I might even host some people at the Nu Chez Wang.

Work progresses apace. Yadayadayda.

People still refuse to clean up after their dogs but the recent snows have helped me avoid these canine deposited land mines. Unfortunately, the snow and ice have made it all the more apparent that this is a neighborhood endorsed insurrection. The sheer number and volume of the deposits indicate a wide spread and coordinated attack on the sole of America. I have also uncovered evidence that this movement is spreading over sidewalks in other areas of DC.

Thursday night, I was walking a new acquaintance to the Dupont Circle Metro station after Drinking Liberally and we were accosted by an unaccompanied large dog. There were no obvious owners/caretakers/co-conspirators nearby and I commented on the flagrant violation of the leash law. The acquaintance admitted to trepidation in meeting new dogs without leashes. I then commented on the difficulties in cleaning up after an unleahed dog and the smelly situation in my neighborhood. The acquaintance then replied with rather a surprising amount of venom and wit, "That is fucking filthy. Jesus, what the hell? It's not like people are free to herd goats on the street or raise chickens and let them shit all over the place!"

I expressed similar outrage and a desire to make the offending owners suffer an unpleasantly foul experience. The acquaintance and I had a couple laughs at the situation and agreed to meet a later date to discuss plans and strategy.

This conversation reminded me of the pigs that some people in Bucharest would raise on the porches of their apartments. Every now and then, a pedestrian would be forced to dodge a brief shower of porcine fecal matter. Chickens were also a frequent sight on a Romanian balcony.

Meet The Genius, Buy Him Drinks

I'll be at Drinking Liberally tonight in Dupont Circle at Timberlake's. Happy Hour starts at 6:30 and at 7:30, Marcy Wheeler, whom some of you might know as emptywheel, will be talking about her book, Anatomy of Deceit, and possibly other topics.

Those of you who know what I look like (those kind souls that bid on me in the bachelor auction) should be able to make their way past the bevy of babes that are likely to surround me and for those of you who don't know what I look like, you should be able to find me behind a wall of hotties.

Life is what you make it. For instance, while I am typing this post, I am sitting on a beach on the shores of the world ocean about 125 million years ago and enjoying the solitude. I suddenly find myself overdressed as well.

Momma Said Type This Out

It was spring in (I think I was in third grade and that would make it 1987.) and my parents were trying to get me to show that I had been learning my lines for the part of Farmer MacGregor in the play Peter Cottontail. I hadn't wanted the part but I had been reading the lines and trying to memorize them because they were assigned to me. That is childhood, I guess. You spend most of your time doing stuff you don't always understand for people motivated by arcane and bizarre impulses.

When my father insisted that I recite some lines, I just sat there mumbling because I didn't want to stand in front of him and say them. I felt weird. It might have had something to do with the fact that I remember him reading while I was supposed to be reciting. I don't blame him, I wouldn't have wanted to listen to a kid stumble through a play that he didn't want to be in. My parents had promised my teacher that I would have all my lines memorized by the time of the first rehearsal, which was sometime soon after my brothers' spring breaks. My brothers' were coming back from boarding school in Massachusetts and we were taking another driving vacation along the western coast of Turkey.

The site of my torment.

We were stomping around Ephesus when my father had an epiphany. We had just reached the ampitheater at the end of a long column lined avenue that had been the main drag, if memory serves. My dad figured that this would be a great place for my to exercise both my lines and my lungs. I was not thrilled with this idea. My family all marched about halfway up the rows of seats and then I started saying my lines. My family said that they couldn't hear me. I tried raising my voice. They said they couldn't hear me. This went on until my brother's were laughing at me and continuing to say that they couldn't hear me, even after mom and dad said that I was doing fine. I was not exactly furious at this point, but I was pretty steamed. It was especially maddening because my dad can make himself be heard over hurricane force winds without yelling. I suggested that everyone go sit up on the top row of seats and I would try again. This put them about 100 yards away from me on the stage. As soon as they sat down, I took off running back to the car as fast as I could. I got almost all the way to the ruined library at the end of the road, about a mile, before my older brothers caught up with me and dragged me back.

My unreached refuge.

I then sat there sulking on the stage while my brothers stood in the wings. I tried to escape through the structure, but it was dark inside the remaining walls and I didn't get too far before my brothers apprehended me. I was never able to get away at any of the other ampitheaters in which I was forced to recite my lines. Leaving my lines in the car didn't work either, my father just made me march back and get them. My brother's were too smart to let me get away with anything twice. When I made a mistake, my parents would make me start over. When I wasn't projecting enough, I had to start over. We went through this in Troy, Ephesus, Pergamon and other ruins lost beyond the pain of memory.

After this ordeal, reciting my lines in the kitchen didn't seem so bad. I only had to compete with the radio and microwave in the morning. As I recall, my performance as a grouchy old farmer was well regarded. I just acted like my dad.

Busted...

Some people can flip out over pointless crap. Certain people now think that gmail is some sort of game site. These people might or might not have control over my continued paycheck. This frustrates me.

Some people flip out over not pointless crap. I flipped out on Sunday when my cable connection at home went to shit. Again. I received a phone call saying that my service appointment for yesterday was not necessary as the contractor decided to show up on Saturday and not during the scheduled time on Sunday. I asked for a receipt and tried to get some form of written proof that anyone had done anything. I was quite insistent because my connection went to shit on Saturday sometime between 10 am and 5 pm. I was told that there was no way there were even going to tell the time that the tech had come by. I then asked how they planned to bill Comcast for the hours worked and that I wanted some written proof that someone had done something and that I wasn't being jerked around. The operator said that there was absolutely no way she could do that. I asked if her supervisor could. She said that she wasn't going to transfer me to anyone else or give me any proof or send out someone to the original appointment. I then asked why the hell she bothered to call in the first place? She then said that there was no way she was talking to me if I was going to be rude.

Rude? Lady, you don't know rude.

40 minutes later a tech shows up for my appointment. I described my problems with the service and the conversation I had with the dispatcher. He said that he has been hearing that all day long and he has no idea what is going on. Every appointment he had been had told him that they just received a call and that the work had supposedly been done the day before. The tech went outside to check stuff out and said that every connection that could be reached from the ground was loose. He tightened everything and then my connection was fine for about an hour. I have another appointment Tuesday night. I would switch to Verizon if only they would give me service. FiOS, DSL, whatever, I don't care. I am sick and tired of Comcast being shit and having poorly trained techs and phone staff. Fuck this.

A new message from the people that brought you the Iraq War

TIME WARP! Holy shit is it 2003 already?

Why no, Senator, I am not hiding anything behind my back. What's that? Look over there! *shredding noises*

Uuuuhhh

Yowza.

Sometimes, that's all you can say in response to life. And instant messages.

Civic Doodies EDITED FOR CLARITY'S SAKE

This week has been one for the books, or blogs. DC got about an inch of snow Tuesday night and this brought up fond memories of extortion schemes against the elderly.

As I walked to work, as I am wont to do, I noticed that only 5 residences had cleared their front walks and sidewalks of snow. I was raised by a family that encouraged social responsibility. Whenever it snowed, I would typically get at least 3 hours off school, if not a whole day, and would rush out to shovel (sweep) the snow off our frontwalk and section of sidewalk. I would then proceed to roam around my neighborhood and coerce people to pay me to clear their walks. One year, we got an extra week of spring break when it snowed two and a half feet on a Sunday night. The Genius' Brothers of Indeterminate Number all set about making the best fort this side of Belvoir the next morning. This beast had four walls that were five feet high and a supply of icey ammunition to last most any siege. The walls were a bit of an obstacle for the younger members of the garrison but with the help of a spotter, we acted as mortars arcign our shots over the wall in a rain of snowy doom. We were the unchallenged masters of the county. Since the rest of the neighborhood's kids were all under the age of twelve, they could barely get their snow suits on, let alone mount an effective assault on a well defended fortification. Perhaps they were too busy performing terrorist attacks against local libraries. Anyway, the shovelling lobby must have been strong at one point because a person is legally liable for accidents that occur on their section of sidewalk, should that person fail to clear the walk of any dangerous condition. This may or may not be true, but that is irrelevant because so many people believe that it is true and it affects their behavior in such a way that they will pay 30-50 dollars to any kid with a shovel when it snows. This is how we should treat global warming, which brings me to my next topic.

I went out with Hot Liberal a few times. I inadvertently ended that relationship when we went out to see Children of Men, which everyone should go see. We were having a fine time until she revealed her position on global warming. She called it a problem of global pollution and denied that global warming was going to happen like ALL THE CLIMATOLOGISTS IN THE ENTIRE GODDAM WORLD say it will. She then used the "you don't know what I've read defense" and some other choice arguments that probably came from the CEI septic tank. I basically blew my lid and blew a ton of holes in her statements. This continued over an email exchange in which she then tried to point out that science once called the atom the smallest part of the universe. I countered with the statement that for someone who studied science in college she had an extremely poor grasp of the scientific method. At one point, I said that I couldn't agree to disagree with her because that kind of weak statement only serves to allow the current situation to continue. She then decided that since I didn't respect her opinions that she couldn't be with someone like me. Shit, we wouldn't want your ignorance to interfere with your weltanschauung. The basis of this argument again reaches back to the days of my youth, some which was indeed spent in Asia, in which I was taught to have a sense of social responsibility. I was taught to leave things better than I found them. I am not sure that she is better off now that we had that argument, but I know that I don't care. Hopefully, she paid attention to the recent news about global warming, but since that news has absolutely no respect for her opinion, I doubt it.

Speaking of outside forces crapping on your day, there is a certain kind of asshole that lives in my neighborhood and I am not necessarily referring to any bowtie wearing jackhole. This kind of asshole lets her or his dog shit all over the sidewalk and then leaves the immense steaming pile of shit to rot. Or cover the bottom of some unfortunate sole. DC has two important laws about dogs: dogs must be leashed at all times and owners must clean up after them. Hell better help these people should I ever see someone leave turd on the sidewalk because I will descend upon that person with a fiery wrath matched only by the unrepentant seraphim. Elohim ain't got nothing on me. This is not an isolated incident either. On an average day, I will see three or four new turds on my walk. They have gotten thick enough that at one point, I thought I was looking at a human turd. I was a Boy Scout and I have learned a thing or two about the woods and turds you find in said woods. Anyway, the mile between my office and my apartment now has an almost even spread of canine fecal matter, about every 25-30 feet. This is a neighborhood that installed shitboxes at every corner on each side of the street specifically for the disposal of the waste products of these fecally fecund residents. There are at least four dogs that have owners that are not performing their right and proper duties. If I see this happen, I will pick up that turd and hurl it mightily at the asshole that allowed his or her dog to deposit it and then failed to clean it up. I can always toss my gloves in a washing machine afterwards, but that person will have learned a lesson that they won't soon forget. Olfactorily speaking.

EDITED FOR CLARIFICATION: The girl and I stopped seeing each other in the first week of January. I realize that this post is entirely misleading in this regard. I apologize. I only just decided to blog about it because I finally got annoyed enough about this.

I can not lay a disagreement on a topic like global warming aside in order to continue dating a person. It is too important to me and my behavior reflects this feeling. I have changed my behavior to reflect the strength of my conviction. I won't date a person who denies the existence of the problem. Maybe this makes me a self-righteous asshole, but I don't care. I am doing what little I can to improve the problem. If we had been talking about a disagreement on a rather less important matter, like movies or books or something, then I would be total munchwad for dumping someone over that.

Filed Under: You gotta be fucking kidding me

Libby says it was a little old lady from town who told him about Plame.

During Libby's 2004 grand jury testimony, he said Russert told him "all the reporters know" that Wilson's wife worked at the CIA. Libby now acknowledges he had learned about CIA official Valerie Plame a month earlier from Vice President Dick Cheney but says he had forgotten about it and learned it again from Russert as if new.

If you believe that, I have a lovely townhouse to sell you in Sadr City.*

*This joke brought to by the Department of '80s Humor Resurrection, under the leadership of Secretary Smirnov.

Kick Starting This Year, Belatedly

Tonight, I restarted my workout routine and watched a couple movies. I watched Thunderball and am currently watching Dog Soldiers by Neil Marshall. SOme of you may remember Mr. Marshall from his most excellent movie, The Descent, of which I have previously blogged.

I don't make New Year's Resolutions because they are just dumb. What is the difference between any one day of the year? Best just to start doing what you want and let the muscles get a little sore in the good way. Maybe I'll even get to play some video games this weekend.

Clif: As he blogs, he lives

This Sunday, I had the privilege of attending a party at Clif's residence, AKA the home of Outside the Tent. Clif blogs like a rock star and he lives like one, too. He has a killer tv and surround sound system. This is the kind of setup that can blow your socks off with the average Jerry Bruckheimer soundtrack. I didn't want to distract from the focus of the party, some sort of sporting event, but I am fairly certain that the screen measured .35 wangs across.

Fanny, Clif's supremely cute dog, was quite the host. Contrary to previous posts by other bloggers, Fanny is the cutest dog on the internet. We are still awaiting results on the rest of the world.

ADDITIONAL: Let me spell this out for you! Smokey Dog may have the handstand piss position, but he is not even in the same realm of cute as Fanny. The continued silence is only confirming my statement as fact.

Give Me Funding or the Canadistanians Will Win

This newspiece from the Toronto Star details more dismantling of our great nation's superiority to foreign interests! If we do not engage in the new psace race, we will lose it! Give me millions and I will organize a space agency that will be the Coke to the Canadistanian Pepsi. I will offer us a choice, a good choice, indeed the best choice for space flights into space.

You might wonder why I would want to do such a thing! You would be stupid to question my statements that this will benefit the country! It will benefit our great nation by employing at least two people beside myself! fulsome will be my chief rocket science and dontEATnachos my head of security. They are as eminently qualified for these positions as I am to run a major aeropsace corporation! I am a Genius and that is more than many other CEOs or department heads can say accurately. Unless they were to say that I am a Genius. Meaning me, not them saying, "I am a Genius." They would be saying something like, "Chuckles, surely thou art a Genius, here is my billions, lead us into space, o great leader person."

To which I could only respond: "Yeah, tho I walk in the valley of bad credit, I shall fear no collection agency, for I am now mightily endowed financially as well as physically. I take this grave responsibility and will raise unto you a generation of children who will know the wonders of skyhooks, space elevators and nanotube construction. We shall sail full force into the pages of history and the dark void of space, while simultaneously ignoring the starving multitudes below us. Someday, we might find these poor wretches a planet upon which they might live; out of sight, out of mind and so on and so forth. Let us pray to some of the great Saints long past: Heisenberg, Aasimov, Clarke and Leonov. Great spirits, guide our hands and minds so that we might soar on the solar wind, scanning planets for new life, drilling holes in comets for old life, aiming telescopes at neutron stars and learning more of the great mystery, but guide us not in such a way that we come to question our scientific understanding of the universe. "

UH OH, updated

Right now, there are hordes of police cruisers and fire trucks zipping around my neighborhood. I guess the Mooninites finally attacked DC.

UPDATE from 1:39 PM: It was some sort of electrical fire two doors down. They shut down the entire block's power for about 30 minutes. There was smoke "pouring from the walls" according to people and no one was hurt, so far as I know.