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Lakers with the Huggies defense

how lovely

Don’t misunderstand me, I’m a Laker fan. I watched last night’s Houston game from the bar. But this is a hometown classic. After the Rockets came back from 17 points down, here’s how announcer Craig Ackerman called the action as time expired:



Craig was right. Context.

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Mitt Romney, king of the tax-shirking 53%

*holes, adios pendejo, how lovely, taxes

The world splits nicely into two political classes. Ask Mitt Romney.

In one live the Americans. They are producers, they are job makers, they are wealth creators, they are hard working and responsible. They care about their own lives.

And in the other live the Obama voters.

“. . there are 47 percent who are with him, who are dependent upon government, who believe that they are victims, who believe the government has a responsibility to care for them, who believe that they are entitled to health care, to food, to housing, to you-name-it. That that’s an entitlement. And the government should give it to them. And they will vote for this president no matter what…These are people who pay no income tax.”

They are moochers, they are parasites, they are grasping and greedy. They are the people who pay no income taxes. As if that should be possible in a fair and decent world, and what else is there to know?

Funny you should ask. You should know why it is that some people pay no taxes.

. . Congress has repeatedly used the income tax to encourage or subsidize specific activities. We subsidize kids with the child credit, college attendance with multiple higher education credits, retirement with all sorts of tax-favored savings plans, work with the earned income credit, and child care with, you guessed it, the childcare credit.

That’s how someone who would normally pay taxes ends up paying none. It happens with lower-income drug dealers and porn princesses after the tenement rugrats — whose really? who knows? — cry out for nanny-coddler care or a Berkeley indoctrination. Suddenly their tax burdens go from “Patricia Nixon” to “Honey Boo-Boo.” And when the Army veteran whiners choose to put away a bit of their usual cigarette money for retirement, in hopes of getting in a little post-PTSD staring at sunsets somewhere, their taxes go from “Operation Desert Storm” to “Al Qaeda.”

No one could ever call the Republican candidate a freeloader. He never shirks, kiddo. Nothing demonstrates Mitt Romney’s dogmatic love of country like the way he avoids Cayman tax shelters, Swiss dodges and fed-bamboozling deductions with a fervor that can only be described as wildly patriotic.

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Romney: Fuck people who don’t pay taxes (except me, you can love me)

*holes, how lovely, taxes, the candidate who wasn't there

Mother Jones posts a video from a big-money Mitt Romney fundraiser where the bajillionaire talks candidly amongst My People, the zillionaires. Can you believe it? He thinks anyone who votes against him, the most organically inspirational and trustworthy American who ever lived, is a lying, shiftless jobless parasite. How does he know this to be true? How in the world did he manage to figure this out? It’s all in the numbers behind You People that pay no taxes.

“There are 47 percent of the people who will vote for the president no matter what. All right, there are 47 percent who are with him, who are dependent upon government, who believe that they are victims, who believe the government has a responsibility to care for them, who believe that they are entitled to health care, to food, to housing, to you-name-it. That that’s an entitlement. And the government should give it to them. And they will vote for this president no matter what…These are people who pay no income tax.”

The magical statistic, that there are always 47% who pay zero, who knows if that’s real? Or why? Who cares. Anybody, anyone at all who would vote for Obama, who is considering voting for Obama, who is wondering if maybe voting for Obama this time around isn’t a pretty good idea, who is maybe not-right-wing, who is maybe brown-skinned, or maybe a working stiff, or a disabled veteran, or a pensioner who now pays less for her prescriptions (damned Obamacare), and now her life is a little better because of it, every one of these people is a bath salt smoking Afro-Snooki — sure the bazongas but I’m also talking actual head-to-toe black skin, or at least welfare — with an axe to grind because she’s too lazy and stupid, and frankly taken with pointing and laughing at the Humble White Christian Wretches of Labor Corporata Dolorosa, to work, ever.

“. . my job is is not to worry about those people. I’ll never convince them they should take personal responsibility and care for their lives.”

So you retirees with no income and little reason, however perfectly job-creating and pro-Republican, to break open your savings accounts and pay whatever taxes on zero, Mitt should give a damn about you? You’re going to vote for Obama anyways, stoners.

Some of you geniuses will read this and take a prurient interest in the candidate’s willingness to ‘care for his own life’ by way of federal levies and the like. For You People (this is wildly abusive and none of your fucking business, bastards), 65 year-old Mitt Romney pays thirteen percent tops, but maybe only five, and it could be zero, of his annual retirement millions and millions in taxes. This makes him a paragon of fiscally foxy and personally responsible. You do the math.

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Joe Walsh attacks Sandra Fluke

how lovely, teabaggers

Kingly Joe Walsh holds court at the local diner. He is one furious tea bag. Sandra Fluke came on the television the other day. And she “confronted” him. How dare you, slut.

“Think about this, a 31-32 year old law student who has been a student for life, who gets up there in front of a national audience and tells the American people [*clap clap clap*] ‘I want America to pay for my contraceptives.’ You’re kidding me. Go get a JOB. Go get a job Sandra Fluke.”

Sandra never asked America to do that but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because Joe is a low-life who’s about to lose his job.

“We’ve got parents in this country who are struggling to buy sneakers that their kids can wear to school that just started.”

Now Joe cares. This is what unproductive low-lifes do when they’re about to lose their angry asshole paychecks. They suddenly worry about the poor tired worker people. Damn it! Why doesn’t Sandra care about you? The way I do? Get off their backs whore!

“We’ve got parents up and down my district who are barely keeping their house. And, and, and, and, and we have to be confronted by a woman, the Democratic Party, this is what they stand for. Their going to put a woman in front of us who is complaining that the country — you, me and you — won’t pay the 9 dollars per month to pay for her contraceptives.”

You too Democrats! Stop attacking these good people! Trollop tramps.

“We are raising these Sandra Flukes of the world. We’re raising Americans who don’t know how to take care of themselves, who feel entitled. This is a woman who feels entitled that we all should pay for her contraceptives. This is what we’re teaching Americans? That was embarrassing. That was embarrassing.”

Sandra never asked America for anything. But it doesn’t matter.

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Devastating us with Twitter vaginas

conservatives, damn twitter, how lovely, the woeful internet

More of their satire. More political napalm. If you haven’t seen conservatives laugh at us via use of the #OverheardAtDNC2012 hash tag on Twitter, well just take a look. It’s a wonder there are now threads of liberalism left at all. It’s a miracle there are a few of us still around to huddle over a can of Sterno and sing commie labor anthems. Down by the railroad tracks. With vaginas. They’re really taking it to us. Stop. Ow. Owww.

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Holograms From My Father

conservatives, damn twitter, how lovely, the woeful internet

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Twitter search #overheardatDNC2012 and “nigger”

conservatives, damn twitter, how lovely, the woeful internet

Twitter + conservatives = sheer magic.

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Can’t stop laughing at #ObamaHelpedBlacksLike

conservatives, damn twitter, how lovely

Look at the Twitter today. Look at conservatives. They are funny with their hashtags and their humor. You know Obama is a big loser. Jerk. They all pile on the guy. Ouch. I’d hate to be him.

There they go. He’s failed the blacks. Oh ho. He’s failed blacks badly. What the hell have blacks gotten from him? Probably nothing. What an ass. The way he’s done blacks. Let’s make fun of him about the way he’s screwed blacks. Because he has the blacks? Okay. Ready and go: #ObamaHelpedBlacksLike . .

. . like Kennedy at Chappaquiddick.


Obama helped blacks like Nancy Pelosi is ugly.

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Conservatives beat on Muslims with Neil Armstrong’s corpse

how lovely, muslin death charge

Class grace and aplomb beyond all get-out.

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And they’re wholly nauseating

how lovely, I do not think you are who you think you are

Read this and chuckle. When the wingnuts get this bizarre I consider mocking and finger-pointing to be perfectly civil and acceptable. So knock yourselves out.

. . much of the commentary has focused on Akin’s mistaken belief that women’s bodies have the capacity to “shut down” the reproductive process in cases of rape. . .

Is it such an outlandish idea?

Yes of course. Why must Republicans rescue this Akin fool? Who will change their opinion of him after reading this silly thing? What he said isn’t worthy of discussion. You dismiss it, you dismiss him, and you move on. Or maybe this: light a stick of TNT and stuff it in yer pants.

Is it such an outlandish idea? I looked it up, and it appears that there is no evidence that pregnancies are less likely in cases of rape, but it didn’t seem out of the realm of possibility to me. Many things about the human body are peculiar and amazing. And frankly, more people than are today admitting it must believe that a woman’s mental state has something to do with her capacity to conceive.

It’s as crazy as bullshit gets. Good thing we agree about that. But is the silly notion really so bad friends? Is it so horrible for Akin to tell a lie when it feels like the truth to him? Because it feels true to me. O let me introduce myself . .

Consider that every woman (including me) who has ever experienced infertility is told, even by some doctors, that she should try to “relax.”

Though dismissed as a myth for some time, the role of stress in infertility is being reconsidered now by specialists.

. . my name is Mona Charen. And women are just weird aren’t they? So I’m hardly angry at someone who doesn’t understand the gooey things I don’t understand even though I’m a woman and I do admit we’re both totally wrong.

Impressive. Well I’m ready to vote for Todd and Mona if that’s possible. If an Akin/Charen ticket wouldn’t campaign by donning cast iron suits and rallying thunder and lightning. These two, thankfully, are hardly the only goofs in Ronaldus’ House of Nuts:

It is good that Joe Biden is going to the Republican National Convention to hold high the flag of his party. People make fun of his gaffes, of his embarrassing verbal forays, but he’s no fool and he knows how to take it to the other guy.

I doubt your sincerity.

The speech he is working on, to be given in the heart of downtown, just across from the convention site, will be stirring and stentorian: “All free men, wherever they may live, are citizens of Tampa, and, therefore, as a free man, I take pride in the words, ‘Ich bin ein Tampon.’”

‘I’m a Tampax.’ Good one. That’s a dig because Joe would have to shrink down and crawl up a women’s vagina. How lame especially when you’re a man. Ditto if you’re running for high office. The conservative sense of humor would have to become plenty more sublime before it approached cerca World War I German. Let me introduce myself . .

I wish that were mine. It came in the mail from a Hollywood screenwriter, one of the gifted conservatives who quietly toil there.

. . my name is Peggy Noonan. Yes it’s Missus Clutches At Pearls. She thinks having the VP call himself “ein Tampon” puts her in Oscar Wilde’s company. Back when she was speech-writing for President Reagan her first drafts often referred to the senator from Massachusetts as “Turd Kennedy”. The good old days, they’re back.

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Tap a walrus, taste the rainbow

fancy thinkin', how lovely

Here’s something you better be aware of. This emergency cultural flare comes lobbed at us from Breitbart.com, the organization with a motto now prominently carved across the internet’s frieze: ‘You Killed Andy! You Bastards!’

Did you know? Have you paid attention? Candy commercials exist to lure you into doffing your clothes and having sex with stinky sea beasts. Plan your TV viewing habits accordingly.

Wrigley Co. Uses Bestiality to Sell Skittles
John Nolte | Breitbart.com

Skittles is sold and manufactured by the Wm. Wrigley Jr. Company and according to Merriam-Webster, one of the definitions of bestiality is:

sexual relations between a human being and a lower animal.

I’m picking up a slender thread here in the text. Something something Wrigley something evil. This directly reminds me: Nolte’s mail-order bride could use a warning. A starving Ukrainian deserves fair play on an expedited basis, I’d say. Today you came to America in a duffel bag, tonight you’ll be subject to degradation and humiliation like you’ve never seen. You’ll wish he was only a walrus.

Were I caught passionately making out with another woman, my wife would most certainly define that as a sexual relation and that’s exactly what the woman in this commercial is doing with an animal.

(unlike Nolte’s beloved chained to a dry pipe in his shoe closet, the ‘animal’ in this advertisement is obviously not real. — ed.)

You can laugh and say it’s just a joke, but through a war of inches, Hollywood continues its assault to define deviancy down and to normalize destructive behavior. Humor is an excellent way to get us used to and to take the shock value out of something hideous and immoral.

The marginal ‘shock value’ of the image is the reason the ad exists, John. I love the idea of marketers checking with The Liberal Media Masters, Deviancy Rehabilitation Division for their cultural targets. Might as well insinuate another taboo while we’re knocking out a Skittles ad, Bob. The notion of the same people steering America around by way of wearing everybody out is an entertaining one, too. After they’ve seen this one ten thousand times, they’ll have sex with anything. Bravo.

Now’s a good time for a lightning bolt to strike John down for what he’s about to do to a defenseless teen from a former Soviet satellite. But then she’s fashioned a shiv from the Cuban heel of a cocoa-leather Gucci, and justice awaits, hungry and feral in the dark.

If you don’t think there’s an agenda behind this, you haven’t been paying attention the last 40 years. And if you don’t think that there are those who hold the levers of power in our popular culture that would like to remove the stigma from bestiality, you don’t understand the depths of sexual depravity the human animal is capable of.

Well said. John: you might want to review some techniques for battlefield cardiac tamponade. They could prove handy in a crisis.

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Congratulations to the Top 20 Hottest Conservative Women

blog stuff, conservatives, how lovely

As some men are especially sentient and the Earth flies in circles, it’s once again time for Right Wing News to rate “The 20 Hottest Conservative Women In The New Media.” Ta-daa. If this game sounds neanderthal and beneath your evolution-studded grasp don’t worry. It’s pretty easy to understand. Men stare at pictures of women and then they rate them. The lists are e-mailed, and the News posts the results. The ratings came out just today.

If you end up the number one woman on the list then you are the hottest. If you end up the number twenty woman then there are nineteen other ladies preferable to whatever you are. Honestly, number one is so far prettier than you it’s merciful to pretend you’re “hot.” We should probably agree you’re better suited for a tournament of “skank.” Your grim appearance barely interests the eros of gentlemen as stately as Ace and Ass-Rocket, and why shouldn’t that be widely known? Timeless truths are laid bare by the pursuits of mutual dignity and respect and also by the universal reverence for human life.

Now I will not be as callous as the alleged ‘fans’ of these women. No. How is it fair of me to look at the mere appearance of a particular human being and judge? Why would a sane person do that? Where on Earth would it be civilized to label a woman an 8 as opposed to a 7? And who is to say I’d rather be shot out a crap cannon than have sex with a gun-nut? Who? Would it be gracious of me to gaze at Hot Official Number Seven, Monica Crowley (better than #8 worse than #6) . .

. . and suggest she stop wearing propeller beanies for a bra? That would be shallow. Critical. No. And would it be tactful of me to suggest to Hot Official Number Fourteen, Kristina Ribali (better than #15 worse than #13) . .

. . that she throw away her Li’l Undertaker Makeup Magic kit? I don’t think so. It would be coarse. Awkward. I will not do it. And how would it reflect upon me to comment of Ms. Coulter, Hot Official Number Eleven (better than #12 worse than #10) . .

. . that a replica of steely Ann would be suited to disimpacting circus elephants? It would reflect poorly. I shall avoid it. And just how would it make Jenny Erikson feel, Hot Official Number Sixteen (better than #17 worse than #15), if I were to let her in on a secret?

Black men don’t favor The James Earl Ray Memorial Library? Especially ones long since graduated from Harvard? That might make her feel silly after sitting there for so long, pining for a President never to show. It would be rude of me. Still, friends, the sort of woman who’d stalk a guy across a third-rate law library with a come hither façade and a bolt-action squirrel cannon? Smokin’.

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