Enjoy your Labor Day happy times. I’ll be shucking & jiving for The Work this weekend. Bastards.
I’m a bit confused by the pick of Sarah Palin as John McCain’s runningmate. Have they ever been in the same room together before today? Seems sorta gimmicky to me. Just from what I’ve seen of her on TV today, I’d say temperment could be a bit of a problem. It kinda looked like she was treating the whole thing as a joke.
The McCain campaign has stressed Barack Obama’s lack of executive experience and a lenghty record as key reasons to be leary of electing him, and yet they pick a former mayor of Wasilla and first-term governor of Alaska. “But she’s not at the top of the ticket! Experience only matters at the top of the ticket!” the bloggers say. She’s running to be a heartbeat away from the presidency, and with McCain turning 72 today there’s fewer and fewer heartbeats left.
“Picking Sarah Palin will bring the Hillary supporters firmly into the McCain camp!” Maybe those who can’t read or, y’know, hear. Sarah Palin is at odds with nearly everything Hillary Clinton stands for. I guess the hope is vaginal-Americans will stand for sisterhood before good sense.
“She’s clean and her short record means there’s less for Democrats to go after.” Well, she’s currently under investigation for abusing her power as governor in an attempt to have her sister’s ex-husband, an Alaskan state trooper, fired. Subsequently, she allegedly fired the guy who refused to fire the trooper.
The pick makes sense, though, for a couple of reasons. She wants to blow up the world for Jeebus, and could help bring the winguts safely home to the welcoming arms of Mother Republican. Also, if you can manage to separate her from her reprehensible policies and position, she seems likable and kinda fun in a wackadoodle, set-your-house-on-fire-for-a-laugh sorta way. She reminds me of a young Ann Richards. I’m looking forward to the VP debates.
Also, as The Husband pointed out, her husband looks like an aging gay porn star, so that’s kinda cool I guess.
From Rising Hegemon, Attaturk has concerns:
Oh, and since she’s a mystery let me be the first to exploit the newest of American traditions and proclaim…
She’s a secret Muslim!*
*not that there’s anything wrong with that.
You know what I hate? News crawls. Those little bits of information marching determinedly across the bottom of every cable news channel broadcast, their steady & never-ending loop endlessly diverting your attention from a feel-good story about a fugitive ex beauty queen who sold her house to clone her beloved dog or a piece on the latest cringe-inducing moment the president has pulled from his seemingly bottomless bag of ineptitude.
Watching Caroline Kennedy Schlossberg introduce her uncle, Ted Kennedy in a triumphant moment, at the Democratic National Convention last night truly tried my patience. Here are some of the things I “learned.”
P.S.: Howard Dean is hotter than ever!
P.P.S: MSNBC has apparently positioned all their hosts in some sort of wind tunnel for the duration.
“You know what this midwestern river town needs? An outdoor theater! Who wouldn’t love to be alternately rained out, struck by lightning, swelter in the summer heat, wilt in 100% humidity & dodge mosquitos the size of starlings?”
“Best idea ever. Let’s get to building.”
I imagine that’s how Starlight was conceived anyhow.
That being said, Kathy Griffin’s sold-out show at Starlight this evening was fantastic. When I told my hairdresser I was going, he responded “you and every other fucking fag in this city.” Couldn’t have been more true. A terrorist’s bomb or gross structural failure could have decimated the ‘mosexual population of Kansas City tonight.
Kathy looked fantastic and hit all the touchstones: her mom; Oprah; Tom Cruise; Ryan Seacrest; Britney & of course, Barbara Walters.
Best part? We were 6 rows back from the stage and had VIP parking. This went a long way toward making me feel better about the 17 pounds I lost from schvitzing like a hoo-ah.
Now I’m sitting at home watching Marky-Mark piss & moan about the council & the city manager on ‘Kansas City Week in Review.’ What a fucking tool.
Looks like Saturday will be sunny with a 90% chance of Biden, what with Secret Service arriving at his home mere moments ago.
I kinda like Joe Biden. He’s got that touch of batshit-crazy that I admire in my politicians (and full-time volunteers) and he often let’s the truth come tumbling out of his mouth before his brain can engage the filter.
Guess we’ll see what the morning brings. Meanwhile… the quotable Biden:
“This is bullshit. This is malarkey. This is outrageous. Outrageous for the president of the United States to go to a foreign country, sit in the Knesset … and make this kind of ridiculous statement,”
Or at least a foster-mom. With the Woodlands closing, lots of adorable little snozes need temporary (& permanent) homes, so this weekend we’ll be taking in a charming new boy. The details have yet to be worked out and I’m not actually sure which boy we’ll be getting, but he’s a greyhound, so you know he’ll be adorable. There’s a fairly good chance I’m going to be a failure at fostering and just end up with three dogs. We’ll see how it goes.
For those unfamiliar with greyhounds, the above pic is not of dead one. The ‘cockroach’ or ‘dead bug’ position is assumed by the greyhound at its most content and comfortable. Man, I love these dogs.
Is John McCain senile or just an out-of-touch elitist?
When asked how many houses he owned, the Senator from Arizona seemed a bit hazy:
“I think — I’ll have my staff get to you,” McCain told Politico in Las Cruces, N.M. “It’s condominiums where — I’ll have them get to you.”
The Real Estalker puts it into perspective:
Your Mama would not expect Senator McCain to accurately say how many pairs of shoes are in his closet or the number of rubber bands taking up space in his junk drawer, but we certainly expect he be able to count the number of damn homes he owns. Pleeze.
Sam Seder reminds us that real estate isn’t the only thing about which the McCain’s haven’t clear in recent days:
Which is greater, the number of homes John McCain has or the number of half sisters Cindy McCain has and pretends don’t exist?
For those who missed this fun story, clickety.
Perhaps now we can put to bed the Obama-arugula elitist bullshit, because let’s face it. They’re both pretty successful people. They have nicer homes (well, the Obama’s just have the one), better contacts and cooler shit than you do, loser. Christ, you make me sick.
Edited to add the response from the McCain campain. See, it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know how many properties he owns, because he was a POW, and oh yeah, your mom. I believe I shall call douchebaggery.
Oy. The council’s proposed ordinance regulating volunteers in city offices has thrown Marky-Mark into a tailspin. He’s now vowing to ignore any law that would result in his wife being packed off to resume her doula-duties.
“I am not going to respond to the ordinance,” Funkhouser said. “I think this law is targeted at me, and I will probably ignore it.”
Well, here’s a hearty congrats to the Funk for finally recognizing something when it comes to his wife’s role as a “volunteer”. He seems oblivious to the fact that she’s a constant embarrassment to his administration, that the suit filed against her by a city employee could cost the city a buttload of money and that she’s made the city the punchline of many a local joke.
I’m of two minds about the whole thing. On the one hand, Gloria Squitiro is a distraction in getting the business of the city done.
On the other hand, I’ve never seen a soap opera in local politics play out in quite so fascinating a fashion. From the Christmas letter (seriously, if you haven’t read it, click the link) to the lawsuit, every week brings something new and hi-larious (if you’re lucky enough not to be a KCMO resident).
I feel we’re only weeks away from a skyclad Wiccan circle being held in the courtyard at City Hall to cast a protection spell on Gloria or a curse on Jan Marcason. Even better, perhaps once the ordinance passes, Wayne Cauthen will personally frog-march her ass to the ol’ Corolla and send her on her merry way back to Brookside. Either way, I’ll pack a picnic lunch; you bring your own lawnchair.
He said laws “big and small” are ignored all the time, specifically noting Jim Crow laws in the past.
As my dear friend Scoots pointed out, the smoking ban probably falls somewhere between big & small, so next time you’re at Davey’s, smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.
Nobody’s on this like TKC. Show him some love.
