Friday, March 09, 2007

Newt Gingrich Falls Short (or, went long and then fell short)

Go read about the Accidental and Complete Coincidence of Newt's Extramarital Dickery during the Clinton impeachment.

"The honest answer is yes," Gingrich, a potential 2008 Republican presidential candidate, said in an interview with Focus on the Family founder James Dobson to be aired Friday, according to a transcript provided to The Associated Press. "There are times that I have fallen short of my own standards. There's certainly times when I've fallen short of God's standards."

C'mon, now. Everyone stop being so damn hard on the guy. Who doesn't backslide every now and again? Newt is doing his best Jimmy Swaggart (for the new millenium) act for Fundamentalist mobs who love that sort of thing almost as much as they love the slaughter of brown people in the third world.

Word has it that Newt may be scheduling a backslide with a fellow named Sanchez ( source
--definitely NSFW due to throbbing cocks) sometime mid-summer in a repentance tag team event. A repentance "Super Bowl", if you will, that should coincide nicely with the New Year festivities '08, thus giving him enough momentum to cruise into the dictator's chair on Starship USA.

What might one call this Repentance Super Bowl? Hmmmm...'kay, got it.

Repentance '08: Guzzle God, not Rod.


Ron Paul on the Federal Reserve

This is the presidential candidate you'll never really hear much about in the corporate media. If you understand the Federal Reserve and the sordid history of the fractional banking/debt system, then you'll understand the balls necessary for this speech.

There is also another post up on LasVegasVegas politics--a statement by Ron Paul on the Iraq War Resolution before the USHOR on March 7.

Oh yes, he also voted "NO" on the restriction of Internet gambling. Note for some friends--he's also for the decriminalization of marijuana.


Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Welcome back to hell

I should be starting back on Monday, that is, unless my smacked ass of a doctor gets up to his old tricks. He'll probably try to sign the necessary forms in Klingon or Elvish and leave me effed in the a for another week.

So in order to achieve maximum disappointment when he does this, I began driving a bit this last weekend. I tried to think positively, reminding myself just how long I've been able to avoid the never ending crush and in doing so, I had enough tranquility stored in the nether regions (of my brain) to stay Buddha-faced for at least a week.

Oh, the lies we tell ourselves.

Knowing I needed to drive, but also knowing that I likely wouldn't be able for very long, I opted to drive us back home after running some errands and picking up the dogs from the kennel. Nice and easy, easy breezy.

Then I started driving.

Now, you have to understand the surroundings where the kennel is located. Not a busy or high traffic area, especially on the weekend (which seems to be the case of the entire city, really). Pulling in to the kennel--ghost town. Wait for them to bring up the dogs--one car goes by. Get dogs, get out, get everyone into the car-nothing, nada, zip, zilch, fucking dead quiet. I pull up to the edge of the drive and look left before pulling out, you know, just in case even though it's been a completely dead road for a full 15 minutes.

Right on fucking cue.

Here comes a funeral length of traffic (only going slower) combined with the longest green light EVER just for them. Also, thanks to my amazing road fortunes, the direction I'm forced to go (because of construction) leads me straight into--that's right-- some more construction. This is the point where I find out that not only can these 237 cars (now in front of me) not go any faster than a load-bearing amputee, they are horribly confused and distressed by the color orange, thus extending the amount of time it takes me to get home by double.

I'm coming around to the theory that hell will be different for everyone and not just the Lake of Fire seen in standard dogma, mostly because my own (should I also have the poor fortune of going south rather than north upon my passing) is becoming much clearer. I will be perpetually stuck in a car behind these people for all eternity (and it will be very hot, naturally). I will never get home. I will never be able to leave the car. Joe Leiberman will be sitting in the passenger seat droning on about "aid and comfort".

Facing the prospect of that, how could a guy not be upset? I think I did well just in the fact that no one was stabbed.

Come to think of it, maybe I do want the doc to fuck up that paperwork....

(A new post is also up on LasVegasVegas Politics, for those interested)

Sunday, March 04, 2007

Never again with the standard earbuds

Since ridding ourselves of the demigod television 60 or so days ago, we have been forced to seek other stimulation. Beside the fact that it has necessitated a redoubling of will not to knock up this classy dame that lives with me, it also saw the realization that my headphones were seriously substandard.

So I bought these. Yowza, nice.

If the bottom end of the Shure spectrum is this good, the thought of their upper-crusty $400 model makes me positively giddy. Rachel immediately demanded her own pair, which for her is strange because she doesn’t demand…ever.

Get’em. I can’t imagine how anyone could be disappointed in them. (Except perhaps one thing--you may be disappointed if you fail to follow the fitting instructions and get the right earpiece for you in place. They feel hideous if inserted incorrectly, as do most things, I suppose.)

I got a hold of a FLAC version of Bitches Brew and it sounds wicked, as does the rest of my music. My appreciation of jazz immediately went up a few points simply because every little nuance could be heard lending a depth to the music that certainly wasn’t there previously.

I’m not getting paid to flog these, I swear. If you appreciate your music and have thus far been content with the standard phones that came with your player, be content no more. These provide a higher end experience without anally raping your pockets.