Somebody needs a hug.

Meet Tony.

Tony wants to be a congressman. And one of Tony's main platform issues is to have women trade in their...ahem...marital aids for guns.

Not just any gun, mind you - but specially designed derringers that can"sense" who is holding them so that children can't fire them.

Because, you see - we run the risk that nice girls who would otherwise submit unquestionably to each and every whim of their husbands "needs" will instead choose a battery-operated plastic device over their male partners.

Did we mention Tony is most likely divorced? Oooh - shocker. And that he has renamed "marital aids" as "divorce aids."

I know - it's like he's on the table in the operating theater - vivisecting himself for us. It's so surreal.

What's even more surprising is that Tony seems to intimate that he has more than a simple working knowledge of adult entertainment films - even using much of the vernacular in his meandering rants.

The entertainment value comes from trying to follow his ping-pong ball in a wind tunnel missive that ranges from blaming pornography as the root of evil for healthcare, immigration, Iraq, and the job market - to twisted, semi-mystical rambling full of mental imagery designed to send the most convoluted thinker screaming to his mommy:

"Without a rest, the porn dragon oppresses our society with constant work making bricks without straw, and a man's comfort from his toils is robbed by Chinese rabbits who can put even the most virile porn mule to shame in seconds."

I can't help but think this poor, poor man is - according to his printed dementia on these topics - most likely a way-undermedicated person to start with - who was once married to a nice Jewish young lady (he's obsessed with "Jewesses") who found him sexually incompatible and (possibly crazy and... ) divorced him.

You know - some people just don't know when they are naked and crazy and covered with glitter standing on a street corner.

Tony is one of those tragic folks.

ded

lolcat makes grafix geek laff

see more crazy cat pics

"Why can't you leave Mary Ann alone?"

It's like I done told you b*tches - girl is innocent!



Hat-tip to Petulant.

Drunken varmints

If the squirrel were either barbecuing or attempting to teach others how to play Mah Jong - this would look very much like our last dinner party.

Funny: Protect your heterosex

Courtesy of Goodie Bag - you need to check them out.

Funny stuff, dude.

Excellent advice: What to do when you f*ck up

Over at Shakesville, contributor PortlyDyke offers some pretty dead-on, common sense advice on the four steps to take when you REALLY mess up.

Caution: If you get all goosey and faint about the F word, you might want to read something else.

Or try mentally replacing it each time with a "fun" word - like "boing-oing-oing..."

Signs of Spring - Part 2: Northern Vermont

You know it's Spring in Northern Vermont - where we used to live
- when you finally find your car.

Signs of Spring in old New York

The happy Meyer Lemon tree moves out to the back porch

Tulips. tulips. tulips...

Violets and grape hyacinths

THIS is a happy quince

A real old-fashioned beauty - Spirea, also known as "bridal veil"

Happy Spring!!

Woo hoo - wounded soldiers are fun!

Boy - nothing says "lovin'" like having your commander-in-chief and secretary of state laugh and applaud you as you wheel your maimed body past them for their entertainment.

Seriously, kudos and amen to the 75 wounded veterans who were able to participate in this ride - designed to bring awareness of and raise funding for wounded soldiers. Many of whom could not participate.

Bush laughs and jokes that Laura wouldn't let him ride with them because he wouldn't be able to keep up.

Nice joke, asshat. At least you'd have two of each limb in the challenge.

Hat-tip to Princess Sparkle Pony

Your weekly word of advice

Don't say we didn't warn you.

A visit from Becky and Conrad

America's cutest couple came up for a visit this weekend.

Becky and Conrad motored up from their digs in NYC for a weekend of laughs, adult beverages and cookin' out!!

Peter and Eric joined us for the fun - and the weather was fantastic! We dined outside , under the stars - and had a great time.

Peter brought a FANTASTIC white on white layer cake - made from a Magnolia Bakery recipe. It was sublimely delicious.

The evening ended with four extremely "challenged" adults attempting to play Mah Jong. A silly spectacle, indeed.

Sunday Brunch took place at Oriole 9 in Woodstock, which has once again redeemed itself as a great place to eat.

Apparently, the customer service fairy paid a visit and told the front of house staff to get their act together - or get the boot.

We then took a quick tour of Woodstock and Kingston and then pointed them and their Cooper Mini - named 'Gil" - towards Woodbury Commons for a little outlet shopping on their way home.

Ever a class act, we returned home to find that our houseguests had left a lovely note and a box of Godiva chocolates on the guest room bed.

A great weekend, indeed. We loved having you here!!!

YouTube: I am listening to your heart

The things you see when you don't have your gun.



See? Now I am going to have to get up, walk all the way over there, and slap some sense into you, you dumb ass mother....

Glitter headphones and blogs worth reading

• Christian youth TV host comes out of the closet. And because he is normal and could potentially be a healthy role model, the fundies start pulling his show - big surprise. (Nathan exposed)
  

• Anti-gay divorcee rant causes Clif to resort to Venn Diagrams (which we love) and martinis to explain teh priest love. (Sadly, no)
  
  
• First Lady is mesmerized by gyrating foliage. (Princess Sparkle Pony) Possibly after finding more pills and eating them.

• Good Popes, bad Popes - love him or not, the new Pope has a sweet ride, loves beer and has a pet kitty. (Brightest Young Things)

• The Comics Curmudgeon chronicles the week that was. (Wonkette)

• Flushing it away made easier: Ann Coulter finally in an appropriate place for her booksigning - the loo. (Wonkette)
  

And to start your weekend right, Kylie's newest video:

Facebook says I suck

Apparently, I am so hideously repulsive that I am in the lowest 20th percentile of the Facebook community. I'm not sure whether I should be pleased or annoyed.

I feel a bit Quasimodo-ish at this moment.

However, my highest ranking characteristics - as selected by my friends and co-workers might offer some insight.



Ah - insight. Apparently, I am a charming bon vivant boozer who is likely to shirk their responsibilities and eventually end up f*cking someone up with my fists.

Hell - I wouldn't date me either.

Mother's Day is May 11

Shop early!

I see London, I see France...

Someone please bring me a scrub brush and some lye for my brain. Must...remove...image...

Just so you don't forget...

Here, but not.

I know I haven't posted anything of significance recently, but hey - it's Spring.

There's stuff blooming, sunshine and warmer temperatures, and music and smart cocktails in the garden at sunset.

Work also has me hopping - still juggling two roles until my old gig gets a replacement. I love the new job - my only wish would be to be able to cut the old one completely loose so I can focus on the new one completely. But - that ain't how I roll. I need to know I'm handing over a reasonable task load to the new guy or gal who comes in - so the old work ethic rears its head.

Anyway - I'll post something later this weekend.

Perhaps the story of how the developmentally-disadvantaged individual at Target got all up in my face and wanted to throw down with me this morning.

Sweet lord, my life is bizarre.

Let's paint a happy tree

A hat tip to The Reyes Report for bringing this story to our attention:

A MAN from Nashua, New Hampshire, was cutting down an oak tree when he discovered what appeared to be a frowning face in the wood.

Upon further examination, however, it was discovered that what this gentleman found was the mischievous sprite, Piccolo Giacomino*.


Piccolo Giacomino appears to have dazzled the woodsman into believing he saw faces in the wood, when in reality, all he saw was Giacomino dancing a tiny jig.

*For those unfamiliar with Piccolo Giacomino, he is a happy sprite who lives on a magical boat that travels the Seven Seas, smokes leaves from the magic yum-yum plant, and drinks elven beer until he is wont to jump on a table and offer to show all in attendance which bits of him grow when he lies. He is very tiny and quite easy to confuse with shiny objects - but he possesses a lovely sense of humor and is reputed to have an enormous stash of gold.

Purrrrr-fect

We just found out we got tickets to see Eartha Kitt at The Carlyle in New York City on June 7th.

I will have to shine up my cha-cha heels - because you know I wanna be evil!

Laura ain't crazy

...she medicated.

h/t to Princess Sparkle Pony.

Bad Hair Day

On my commute into New York City this morning, I spotted more than the usual amount of hair and fashion tragedies.

I don't normally feel compelled to mention this - but today's examples were really bad.

Hair tragedy no. 1:

Man, early 30's. Carrying an artist's portfolio and wearing a faux-suede shirt. I don't know who told this guy that this style looked good. The top was one of those Lisa Lisa 1980 hairspray spiders I used to see riding the bus through San Francisco's Mission District. You know - the one where you literally have to lay your face flat on a table and use half a can of Aqua Net to get your hair spider to stand up.

That would have been bad enough - but the remainder of his hair resembled the bastard love child of Marlo Thomas' "That Girl " hair-don't and Carol Brady's classic beginner mullet-flip.

It looked like his styling regimen includes a curling iron, shellac and a mixmaster.

In a mental institution.


Hair tragedy no. 2

I call this one Art Fag 101. 20-something. Straight, greasy hair. I can live with that.

Okay - this guy was wearing a girl's barrette to pull one foul side of hair to the side.

A barrette. Oy.

Anchoring the look was an annoying pair of 1960's era girl's glasses like my ridiculous cousin Cheri (Cheryl - the Cheri was a freaking affectation) used to wear when she would bleat at me about the Beatles.

Tangent: Cheri was so ridiculous that she once dragged me all over Cleveland trying to find a 45 of Bobby Goldsboro's "Honey" - possibly the most insipid song of all time, surpassed only by Wildfire, and which - upon location and purchase - I was compelled to memorize...lyric by irritating lyric. Until I wanted to die. Just like Honey. Bring the cancer and plant a f**king tree - I am chewing my leg off to get out of this moron's bedroom without beating her to death with her white vinyl go-go boots.

But I digress...

Sealing the deal on Emo the clown this morning were a pair of matching eyebrow piercings, a lip piercing, and a tattoo up one arm that resembled ground chuck.

I was not at all surprised to see that he and his equally hideous friend were geeking out on their PSPs, playing some kind of epilepsy-inducing Japanese creepy bug eyed cartoon monster game.

But when he felt he needed to share out loud to his friend the fact that his arm tattoo "like, totally represents my love for zombies"... I was compelled to bludgeon him to death with my Amtrak travel magazine.

I think Amtrak needs to add a Freak Class.