Brilliant, jus' Brilliant!!!

No more i-Pods fer you, Kim Jong-Il. Defy the might an' power of the U.S. of A., willya? Hold missle tests in defiance of my authority, willya? Try ta create nukular weapons of mass destruction, willya? Well, take that. You'll jus' hafta make due with last year's model!

Meanwhiles, my study group's comin' up with some answers fer Iraq. Man, it's jus' like college all over agin--get myself inta trouble, but smart kids can always bail me out. Yup, good times, good times.


Update: Well, turns out my study group's nuthin' but a bunch of lily-liveried traitors. Wantin' ta pull out an' all!?! Am I the last American willin' ta make sacrafices? Can't y'all see that anyone who wants ta pull out now is jus' desecratin' the memory of the mens an' womens who are already dead? I tells you now: it's clear to this Administration that if ya wanna properly memorialize the sacrafices of the troops who've died in Iraq, ya gotta be willin' ta sacrafice more troops along side 'em.

We Will Stay in Iraq 'til the Job is Done!

And by "we," of course, I mean the more than 140,000 mens and womens servin' they's military tour in Iraq.

And maybe me on Christmas Day, but only if peoples is bein' nice an' not naughty.

Capitalism Will Endure!!!

Black Friday. Free enterprise. Free markets. The vim an' vigor of capitalism is why the terrorists will never destroy us. We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in the parking lots, we shall fight at the entrances, we shall fight at the shopping carts, we shall fight in the aisles, we shall fight at the registers, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight for the Playstations, we shall fight for the X-Boxes, we shall fight for the Wii's, we shall fight for the I-Pods; we shall never surrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Nation or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the laptop and PDA carrying tourists an' travellers on business, would carry on the struggle, until, in God's good time, the Old World, with all its Blairs and Chiracs and Royals, might step forth to the rescue and the liberation of the New.

Tragedy

Well, there ya goes. Violance an' war is jus' spreadin' all overs Iraq. Fact, it's bringin' the country to the verge of civil war. Over 200 dead in a single day. Peoples settin' other peoples on fire. Peoples shootin' up other peoples. Mosques bein' shooted up and blowed up. An' ya know why all of this is happinin', too, dontcha?

It's 'cause the Democrats won congress.

If only the internationals had seen us be resolveful behind Republican leadership, there would be peace in the world today. If only . . . but instead, tragedy.


Update: Ya know what else? I gotta get me a whole new set of pants, 'cause, I tell ya what, I ate a lot of turkey the past coupla days an' these puppies are feelin' snug.

Happy Thanksgivin'!!!

Hi everybody. Hope yer havin' a great turkey day! Here's a pic of me pardonin' this year's turkey.



I'm actin' a little gingerly like 'cause of what's happened in years past.



Like I sez yesterday, if ya don't ask, I won't tell. I'm pretty sure ya don't wanna know anyway. All I'm gonna says is ya jus' better be careful where ya keeps yer cornbread warm fer stuffin'.

Anyway, to help spread some holiday cheer, here's a comedian by the name a' Frank Caliendo doin' an impersonation of me doin' an impersonation of a turkey. I don't really acts like that, do I?



Heck, I bet I could be funnier than that. Fact, I've always wanted to be a comedian. I was even tellin' that ta Uncle Dick the other day an' he jus' flicks me on my forehead an sez, "Way to go, Pinocchio."

What d'ya s'pose thats s'posed ta mean?

Hey, If You Don't Ask, I Won't Tell

He was always sayin' how he's got my back an' all--I never quite knew what his meanin' was until I was lookin' through these pics.

No Soup for You!

Whoa, I thought Mel was bad, but Kramer seems like an even bigger ass! What the hell kinda fucked up rerun was that? I think he'd even make Strom Thurmond blush--I mean, if he was still alive that is.



And man, these pretzels are making me thirsty!

Road Trip: Vietnam

Vietnam's a great place ta visit. It's kinda like Thailand or China, only not. Actually, there doesn't even seem to be that many Vietnamese people in Vietnam--at least not many based on what I've seen.

Heck, I don't know why I ever avoided comin' here before . . . well, 'cept fer all the previous fightin' an' war an dyin' an' stuff. But otherwise, it's a pretty nice place fer a drive.

Ha, Ha

Ha, take that Pelosi! Hoyer wins an' Murtha loses. Eat that!

Thinkin' yer such hot stuff after the Dems won the 'lections last week. Cock of the walk an' all. Think yer all high an' mighty as the Speaker o' the House. Well, there's yer influence, all bundled up in a loss--a loss!

Yer not even two weeks out from winnin' in the 'lections, ya haven't even taken hold o' yer new seats yet, an' ya hafta deal with the big "L." L-o-s-e-r, babe, yer such a loser.

How does it feel Pelosi? How's that taste? Your own pick fer yer party's number two go-to-guy an' all around muckity muck ate it big time. O-u-c-h. That's gotta hurt. For a supposedly big 'lection winner, I sez you're lookin' like such a loser.

Fact, I'm doin' a li'l dance, an' I'm not even thinkin' 'bout them 'lections anymore. It's my "Elections-Don't-Matter-Cause-Yer-Such-a-Loser Dance."

Bet it don't feel so good now winnin' those 'lections anymore. The 'lections are history, baby--they don't mean a darn thing.

But I'm not bitter or nuthin' . . . really, I'm not.

Silly Dems, that Shtick is fer Kids

Up to the same ol' shtick: discuss, debate, consider.

The Dems haven't even taken possession of the seats they've won in the House o' Reps an' they is already discombobulated 'bout who should be steerin' the cart. They wanna talks 'bout it, share their 'pinions, an' weigh their options. They're so silly--they gots no understandin' of governancy.

In my opinion, any American knows that what's proper is everybody's jus' hasta line up behind the one leader an' anybody with any other 'pinions 'bout stuff has jus' gotta shut up. One way all the way. That's how things is supposed to be.

Jus' goes to show--Dems don't have any idea how to run a democracy.

Poll: 31%

First the Dems win, then Rummy leaves, and now my polls are at an all time low of 31%. Laura tells me I gotta look fer the positives. So I tries to tell myself that 31% of the country still approvifies of me. That's not scratch neither.

Lessee, take the total population, subtract those who can vote . . . , no, wait, that's wrong, so it must be add those who can vote, and then multiply by 31 . . . so, that all equals . . . 15,873,354,359. Wow, over fifteen billion peoples in America approvifies of me. Them's a lot of people. I didn't even realize we had fifteen billion peoples, but ya can't argues with math.

Sniff, Already Missin' Him

I really don't think that America really understood Rummy, and now that he's gone it's a shame, 'cause it's jus' too late. The liberal media, in its efforts to villainify him they never showed his lighter and brighter side. Hats off to Mr. Ferguson fer puttin' together this tribute to Rummy's disappreciated and lessor known personality:



Ah Rummy, you card, you will be missed.

Grrrrr Foley

Darn that Mark Foley. I'm sure it's all his fault.

It should jus' be obvious to any rational person that if not for his e-mails and IMs goin' public, Republicans would still be in charge of the House, the Senate, an' all of the Gubernatorialships. And Rummy would still have a job.

Well, that and the Hastert cover-up . . . , uh, the Abramoff scandal . . . , and I guess the Scooter Libby scandal . . . , and probly the Haggard scandal didn't help any . . . , the housin' market's depressed an' causin' foreclosures . . . , er, and of course there's Iraq and, y'know, soldiers dyin' an' stuff.

But otherwise, if not fer Foley's e-mails an' IMs leakin' out we woulda won, 'cause, y'know, Kerry screwed up tellin' that joke of his. Right there, that would've won it fer us otherwise.

Kerry's Dumb Joke--that was such a good platform.

Oh Shit . . .

I'm jus' . . . I'm so . . . At least . . . Dang.

Well, I really don't know what to say . . .

I guess . . . in the words of the mortal Faith Hill . . .

. . . WHAT!?!

The Most Wonderful Day of the Year

A stuffed ballot box means Republicans walk
And millions of Dems all shout out and balk
When Election Day is here
The most wonderful day of the year!

A rigged ballot box waits for voters to shout,
"Wake up, and see all the Democrats pout!"
When Election Day is here
The most wonderful day of the year!

Cheats unabashed
Votes out in the trash
No need for more cash
And it's all with thanks to Karl Rove!

A Scooter named Libby, a Rummy named Don,
The kind that will even shout loudly, "BACK OFF!"
When Election Day is here
The most wonderful day of the year.

Three to See, One to Shun

If you wanna see a site that representifies my kinda values, then be sure to check out Shelley the Republican. Their entry on Halloween made me realize that I probly can't jus' go along with that ungodly (even if really fun) celebration anymore. So come next Halloween maybe I'll jus' go back to crackin' open some beers an watchin' It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown.

Then again, if inspiration is what you're seekin', then ya hafta check out Betty Bowers. She's my kinda gal and my kinda Christian. She'll minister all heck outta you. Plus she's also got interviews an' a mighty fine gifty shop.

And if you wanna get that old town feel of observances, rememberances an' recollections that come from growin' up in a small community in the heart--well, maybe more like the Adam's Apple, really--of God's Country, then you can check out Kellogg Bloggin'.

In any case, whatever you do, don't go readin' anythin' 'bout the growin' dissatisfaction with Rummy. Jus' don't. 'Cause remember: Rummy don't kill Americans, he jus' put 'em in a position where they can be killed . . . . well dang, that didn't come out right . . . . I wanna do over.

Probe!?!

OHMAGAWD! Our sweet li'l Annie "Practickly-an-Orphan" Coulter is bein' probed . . .

. . . an' not in a good way.