Clareified

For filing purposes only

We'll put this tidbit from Material Squirrel under Information, Too Much.

"[R]iding leaning forward is significantly more pleasurable than leaning backwards."

Shudder.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"It's 11 o'clock at night. Who are you hoping to hook up with now? Spike and Drusilla?"
-Rory to Paris on 'Gilmore Girls'

GET A FREE FLATSCREEN TV

I'm particularly desperate! )

Here is the story:

Go here!


Choose a flat screen that you would like. Then, sign up at the bottom
of the page. They will ask you a bunch of 'optional survey' questions.
Click 'no' to each of those. Then, you will be presented with a bunch
of offers. I'm asking you to sign up for one of them. It can be
applying for a credit card or trying blockbuster free for two weeks (I think
that's the best one).

I need 8 more people to complete offers to get a free tv. Once you
complete an offer, you need to get 8 people to complete one to get your
own tv. As proof that this isn't a scam, I present to you a guy I know
named Gary. This is his story:


So, pretty please complete an offer. Once you've done it, e-mail me your offer number and if you want I'll post it here to help you get more people (after I'm all set of course!)

If you have questions, email me.

'BIG' CHANGES COMING TO L&O:CI


Mr. Big that is.

"Noth is set to reprise his role as Det. Mike Logan in an episode of "Criminal Intent" in January — and industry sources say NBC Universal execs are considering him as a backup lead for the show because of D'Onofrio's bizarre behavior, according to Broadcasting & Cable magazine."

CLAREIFIED HAS FOUND HER MATCH

Welcome to the blogroll the only blog I've found that possibly watches (and blogs about) as much TV as me.

Posts about the lyrics to WKRP in Cincinnati, making fun of Kevin Sorbo and David E. Kelley? What more could you want from a blog?

MY NAME IS...

I would have gone with daring, anonymous, wacky and nice.

D	Dainty
A	Appreciative
W	Worldly
N	Nerdy

Name / Username:

Name Acronym Generator
From Go-Quiz.com

What's your name?

via Big Orange Michael

SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS

It's that time of the year. Bloggers put up your wish lists.

BECAUSE WHEN I'M ANGRY, I GET MEAN

For the umpteenth time in my life, an empty, on-duty cab sped past me. I was standing on the corner of 11th & Bleecker. There were two cabs stopped at the red light and I waited across the intersection, with my arm out, for the light to turn green. Now, usually I would have just run across the street and caught them at the red light because I know that's the only fool-proof way for *me* to get a cab. But I was feeling lazy, besides it wasn't a very populated area and it was broad daylight. Surely, capitalism would give way to prejudice and fear.
Wrong again.
When the light turned green, the first cab hesitated and suddenly turned left without signalling. The cab behind him moved toward me and then when I stepped out into the street to get in, zoomed by me. But I was ready, I memorized his medallion number and sent myself an e-mail from the Treo.

This morning I filed a complaint against him with the transportation commission which included the following:

His sideview mirror almost brushed me, is how close he came to me without stopping. I am an African-American woman and this has happened to me numerous times, but this incident was so egregious that I decided to take down his medallion number, the time and place and file this report. I am committed to following up with this complaint and will appear at any necessary hearings. This behavior is unacceptable for a cab driver. Thank You.

Here are all the things I want to happen to this jerk as a result of my complaint:

1. Lose his cab medallion.
2. Lose his cab.
3. Lose his house.
4. Lose his family.
5. Imprisonment.
6. Deportation
7. Death

I'm still very flexible about the order.

Report your own nightmare New York City cabdriver.

NOT SO RANDOM THOUGHT

Is it wrong that I'm starting to call my monthly bill payments blinds? As in: "Huh, it's the 28th again? The blinds seem to be coming around faster every month."

METS IN '05

3005 that is, if they keep this crap up -- Sammy Sosa? Pedro Martinez?

You'd think they would have learned the old, let's call it the "Mo Vaughn principle", years ago.
Why do they insist on chasing players all the way down the hill? Who next Michael Jordan?

Ted freaking Williams?

AND STAY OUT

Well, or end the discriminatory hiring practices. But "and stay out" is punchier.

"Now every academic institution in the country is free to follow their consciences and their nondiscrimination policies," Mr. Rosenkranz said. "Enlightened institutions have a First Amendment right to exclude bigots. In a free society, the government cannot co-opt private institutions to issue the government's message."

Those who can't, blog

Ladies & Gentleman in her first appearance at the Blog Factory... Dawn Summers:

So, have you seen the story about the girl that was arrested for killing her mother a week before Thanksgiving?
It just boggles the mind how stupid some people are, I mean one week. Come on.
All she had to do was wait just seven more days and I'm sure it would have been a justifiable homicide -- I mean ... oh ...I'm sorry officer, but apparently nothing I've ever done has been good enough and the carving knife was just there.
"Huh. Girl makes a good point. Alright, pack it up boys, nothing to see here."
No, bad Dawn.
That's very, very wrong. Bad, bad Dawn. That's not at all what Jesus would do.
What would Jesus do? It's a very big question these days -- have fun at the prom Lucy, but just think about what Jesus would do. Now, Timmy you could have that extra snack and ruin your dinner, but what would Jesus do?
They've even got braclets and knapsacks that just say "WWJD" -- that's how commonplace it's become TGIF, LOL, WWJD.
What Would Jesus Do?
Yeah, not for nothing people, but whatever Jesus did, got him killed.
And not just killed, nailed to a cross in broad daylight for like two days.
Now, Jesus is my homeboy and all, but alls I'm sayin' is let's all aim a little higher than cruxification in our day-to-day lives.
You know, I've always wondered about that word: cruxification -- can you believe there was a time when people were so often getting affixed to crosses, that someone had to come up with a name for it?
"Dammit! Brutus, I can't keep chiseling "man nailed to giant T-shaped planks" there's just not enough room on tablets."
"Alright, alright, alright, how about crucify."
"Hmm, that's good. You got one for "woman's head removed from the body?"
"Ummm..try... decapitation!"
They were very good with coming up with words back then, all we do today is attach "rage" or "syndrome" and we're done.
Even our magazines have weak names, Time? People? Heeb? That's right "Heeb" because Jewish men aren't stereotyped enough as whiny, neurotic mamas boys, we now have a magazine that rhymes with dweeb to remind us.
Actually, that joke is dedicated to Material Squirrel.
I don't know if you're allowed to dedicate jokes to people. I mean this is only my first imaginary stand-up routine, but if so, this "you're so ugly" joke goes out to Mrs. Tyler who gave me a 'Needs Improvement' in fifth grade.
Yeah, I'm still working on it, biatch.
I know a bunch of people who are lawyers and stand-up comics on the side, which is probably a very good combination. Being a stand-up comic must really boost your confidence in the courtroom.
Like, you're all in the middle of your closing statement, and opposing counsel says "objection!"
You'd just turn around and be all "Objection? Objection? are you kidding me? Do I come down to where you work and knock the license plate outta your hand?"
And don't get me started on the judge -- if he gets all up in your face, you just look him up and down and say:
"A robe? Really? You do know those are only for monks and people who are still figuring out what they actually plan to wear."

Thank you, that's my time -- I'll be here all year.

Things I'm thinking about

Six Feet Under/CSI crossover.

Why don't cars have wheels that go sideways?

Is it better to marry Jesse L. Martin and have Clay Aiken sing at the wedding or marry Clay and have Jesse sing?

Thank God for Annie Duke beating Phil Hellmuth in the Championship game.

Should I use $10,000 to play in the 2005 WSOP?

Is Rabbi Hook also a worm?

How come you never hear the phrase 'black trash'?

THE CUPCAKE KID

Magnolia's has a rule that you can purchase no more than a dozen cupcakes at once.
No matter how crazy my obsession gets, these are guidelines I have been able to live with.
So, as per usual, I get four cupcakes boxed, to go, and one in my hand, which I'll eat along the way. The twin goals of rationing and instant gratification nicely served.
I paid the bill and headed for the door.
I felt someone tap my shoulder.
"Excuse me, miss."
I turn around, both checking for my cupcakes and my credit card - in that order- until they were both located.
I didn't drop anything...what could she want?
"Yes?"
"Can you tell me how many cupcakes you just bought?"
Oh no, did they lower the limit to four? How fast can I eat this one without her seeing?
(Years ago when Karol first told me about Magnolia's rules and lines, I scoffed. "HA! If I want two dozen, I'll just walk in there buy a dozen, walk outside tape on a mustache and then in my best French accent say "I would like twelve cupcakes, si vous plait.")
That was then.
I put my hand over my mouth and through a jaw full of cake and icing I muttered the number four.
"Ah gah oar" I repeated before swallowing.
The woman leaned in.
Dammit, she's gonna do a breath test?
"Do you mind hanging around here a little bit? There are sixteen kids in my son's class, plus the teacher. I need 5 more cupcakes." She motioned to the empty box in her hand for emphasis.
Indeed, she had already packed twelve cupcakes into one box and had another five segregated under the case.
Having barely recovered from my worst fear that Magnolia's security had busted me breaking their rules, I was not anxious to participate in this scheme to actually break them. What if they catch us and I get banned? Banned!
"Uh...I don't know.." I said still choking a little bit from swallowing that first cupcake so fast.
"Please?"
"Alright."
"Oh my gosh, thank you, thank you."
She rushed over to the case and scooped the five cupcakes into her empty box and then grabbed another one.
We walked to the counter together.
"Hi. I've got twelve and I'm purchasing these six for her."
I made eye contact with the clerk. I searched his face for any sign of reproach and prepared to bolt the minute I found any. Instead, a smile crept across his face and he rang up the 18 cupcakes on the register.
She paid him the $36 and we walked to the door.
We made it! I was safely on the street, cupcakes still in box and no lifetime ban.
So stressfull...I need a cupcake!

WHO DOES SHE THINK SHE IS?

Esther adds fuel to my anti-Lohan fire.

Why is poor Lindsay's privacy being compromised? Is it her overexposure to both the teen and thirty-something male demographic? Is it her insistence that in addition to being the idol of teenagers and pinup girl for older fans, she is also a pop princess with an ever-expanding bosom? Perhaps because of her huge um, bank account? Or the fact that she’s hanging out with Paris Hilton? You can’t tell me that you’re going to hang out with PH (or even date ex-whatever Wilmer Wonderama) and expect your privacy to be respected…
See, Ken, it's not just the fake boobs.

Duff 4 Ever.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"That house didn't even have the lawn for them to burn the cross on."

-my mom rejecting a house in "the whitest neighborhood in Brooklyn."

START THE CLOCK

'Desperate Housewives' spoiler and a little bit of self back patting.

INSIGHT INTO MAUREEN DOWD'S FAMILY


E-mail from her brother Kevin:


People often ask me why President Bush inspires such passionate support. My brother Kevin, a salesman who lives in Montgomery County, Md., can answer that; here is a recent e-mail message, trimmed for space, he sent to friends:

"Ladies and Gentlemen,

Now, just as four years ago, I breathe a huge sigh of relief and rejoice in the common sense of the American voting public. Congratulations to President Bush for winning re-election in a poker game played with a stacked deck. No candidate, including Richard Nixon, ever had to endure the biased and unfair tactics of our major media in their attempt to influence the outcome of an election. ... He never complained, just systematically set about delivering the same consistent message. You may remember that four years ago, I felt physically ill watching the Democrats try to legislate their way to the presidency. ...

A very big thank you to Michael Moore, Susan Sarandon, Rob Reiner, Bill Maher, Barbra Streisand, Alec Baldwin, Al Franken and Jon Stewart for your involvement. You certainly energized the base. Now, please have the courage of your convictions and leave the country.

To Bob Shrum - Cut your fee.

To Mike McCurry, Joe Lockhart and Paul Begala - You don't seem quite as smart without a great candidate.

To The New York Times and The Washington Post - If Bush and Reagan were so stupid, how did they both go four for four in elections involving two of our biggest states and the presidency without your endorsement?

We do not live in a secular country. There are all sorts of people of faith that place moral values over personal freedoms. They are not all 'wacky evangelicals.' They are people who don't like Howard Stern piping a hard porn show over the airwaves and wrapping himself in the freedom of the First Amendment. They don't like being told that a young girl does not have to seek her mother's counsel about an abortion. They don't like seeing an eight-month-old fetus having his head punctured and his brains sucked out. They don't like being told the Pledge of Allegiance, a moment of silent prayer and the words 'under God' are offensive to an enlightened few so nobody should be allowed to use them. ... My wife and I picked our sons' schools based on three criteria: 1) moral values 2) discipline 3) religious maintenance - in that order. We have spent an obscene amount of money doing this and never regretted a penny. Last week on the news, I heard that the Montgomery County school board voted to include a class with a 10th-grade girl demonstrating how to put a condom on a cucumber and a study of the homosexual lifestyle. The vote was 6-0. I feel better about the money all the time.

To Dan Rather - Good luck in your retirement.

To Gavin Newsom - Thanks for all of the great shots of the San Francisco couples embracing their mates at City Hall in direct defiance of the law.

To P. Diddy - 'Vote or Die' might need a little work.

To John Edwards - Thanks for being there.

To my friends - only 1,460 days until the next election. Stay vigilant. The Democrats, CBS, the NY Times and the Post may think Hillary is the perfect antidote for all those 'stupid' voters out there.

Best regards, Kevin"

Evidently, her parents are equally misguided. This goes a long way to explaining some of the crackiness in her columns.

...And boy are my arms tired
Proving the old adage that some people, namely Dawn Q. Summers, never learn, I went grocery shopping on Thanksgiving Eve again. But proving that other, lesser known, adage that even though some people never learn sometimes things sort of work out anyway. I decided to go at 8 a.m. when the store opened, instead of after work because I was planning to meet up with an in-town Rick Blaine at Ugarte’s comedy show that evening.Surprisingly, there were other shoppers in the aisles. But the stench of despair and air of panic were decidedly down from last year’s late night shopping visit.
Having gotten everything packed away, I made it to work at a respectable hour in the morning. A few minutes later liquid Armageddon began to beat relentlessly on my office windows.
Crap.
Well…I’m sure it’ll stop by this evening.
Of course, by five, the torrential downpour was still going strong. I decided to take a cab home – just to drop some things off and get an umbrella – I was definitely still going to the show.
Back to old adage number one, about the never learning, I sat in pre-Thanksgiving traffic for hours as Karol brayed on and on in my ear about “worst travel day of the year” and “no way you’re coming back to the city.” By the time I crossed the city limits into East Coco Beach, I was certain she was right. I was drenched, tired, cranky and starving to death.
Then my cell rang. It was Rick. And it was about an hour past when I was supposed to meet him and asphnxma at a bar downtown
“Hey, where are you?”
“Umm. In East Coco Beach.”
“What?”
“Well, it was raining and then I had all this stuff to bring home and so I took a cab, but there was a lot of traffic and now it’s cold,” I rattled off in my most sad, high pitched whine.
“Oh, well are you coming to Ugarte’s show.”
Hmm, I thought my tone of voice made the answer to that question perfectly clear. Maybe I’m losing my sad, high pitched whining abilities.
“I don’t think so, how much longer are you all (or as Rick would say, y’all) going to be there?”
“Actually, I don’t know. My plane was delayed, so I’m not there yet. “
Foiled! I wasted a perfectly good excuse on a no-show. Dammit.
“What! Then, I take it back. I went to the bar, waited for forty minutes and then decided to take a cab home. I am very angry and you owe me,” all whining masterly transformed into righteous indignation.
But no dice, he didn’t believe my new story (a.k.a. I did got to that bar before I didn’t.)
“Alright, I’ll try to meet you at the show. How far away are you?”
“About half an hour.”
Plenty of time for me to get home and get a couple of Magnolia’s cupcakes on my way to the show.
(For those of you who have never had Magnolia’s cupcakes, don’t ever try them because whenever you are even remotely within walking distance of Magnolia’s you will have to go. So, in this case, “on the way” means four avenues west and six blocks north. “On the way” has also meant 56 blocks south and two avenues west. Pretty much whenever I am in Manhattan I am “on the way” to Magnolia’s…but I digress…a yummy yellow cake, white icing topped, delicious digression, but a digression nonetheless.)
When my cab finally reached my house, I jumped out the cab, ran upstairs changed into dry clothing and prepared to head back to Manhattan.
I got off one stop past where the comedy show was and made the now all too familiar walk through the West Village. I saw the fluorescent bakery glow on the corner.
Yay, no line! (usually it curls from the bakery’s front door all the way around the corner…seriously those cupcakes are a sickness).
I crossed the street.
Huh, why do they have the gates down over the windows.
Weird.
I walked around to the front.
More gates. These pulled down all the way across the whole store.
What the…
The lights were on and people were inside armed with icing bags, but the huge black and orange sign said it all.
But not as well as the irate man standing on the stoop:
“Well, what does she want us to do now? We walked all the fucking way out to this place and they’re fucking closed. What do you mean am I sure? There’s a fucking closed sign in the window and metal bars in front of the door, what do you think I’m missing?”
Crushed, I headed back to the main avenue and walked to the show.
The place is called “Duplex” and true to its word, there was some kind of club upstairs and a small bar downstairs.
The entrance opened at the foot of a long staircase heading upstairs.
I assumed that’s where the show was, but because I am extremely lazy, I decided to check the bar area first.
I see someone I think is Ugarte (having only met him once, I look around for more decisive proof that I’m in the right place.)
[The young woman at the mic telling pigeon jokes doesn’t really count]
I spot Rick’s sister, the elusive Sam, then Rick himself, and some guy sitting next to him in a suit.
There weren’t any seats at their table, so I took a stool at the bar and ordered a drink.
The pigeon lady had now segued into some pretty lame “gay people don’t recruit” Ellen circa 1998 jokes. (Look, we know about the toasters, you guys can’t fool us anymore.)
Thankfully she finished up with some very funny “manger scenes” jokes – they are mostly visual, so I won’t attempt to retell them here.
Then, it was Ugarte’s turn. He told a joke that he had posted on his blog (and I will attest that I did laugh out loud when I read it there last week), plus an anecdote about his Florida poll watching.
As I would say later that night, I’m not yet ready to laugh about the Kerry/Edwards loss. Maybe in a four or five years. (To which that guy in the suit next to Rick, who turned out to be asphnxma (hey, after months of seeing the unemployed asphnxma, preceded by years of casual asphnxma, the suit threw me) said “ah, but by then Jeb will be President” I did not laugh.)
Then came the worst comic I have ever seen.
And yes, I saw Jay London on Last Comic Standing.
“I’m French, people say oh why do the French hate Americans? I say, it’s not just Americans, French hate everyone equally. We are bastards.”
OK, not bad. But then…
“My friends are assholes. They are.”
Umm..ok…
“You know, you people keep complaining about Thanksgiving. Just don’t go.”
Huh.
Yeah, if you don’t get invited to Thanksgiving and that’s why you don’t go, then you are a loser.”
I guess.
At this point, my cellphone vibrates: text message from Rick.
“This lady sucks,” I reply.
“Yes” he agrees.
Oh, maybe I just hate French people, let’s tune back in.
“I get to work late and my boss says: you’re late. And I’m like, I know.”
“Hey, lady wake up. I have had people fall asleep on me in bed, but never while I was talking, so that must have been a good joke.”
Tuning back out now.
After she finished her set, a well dressed man walked into the bar.
“Excuse me, are you related to Ugarte?” the bartender asks over the microphone.
“Yes,” he replies.
“This is my brother,” Ugarte says.
“So who is younger/older?” the bartender inquires.
“I’m older,” Ugarte answers.
“By how many minutes?” she joked.
And she wasn’t kidding, give Ugarte a shave, a haircut and a nice suit and he and kid brother would be virtually indistinguishable.
“Two years younger,” brother of Ugarte corrected.
The show continued, but I was too stunned (and starved) about Magnolia’s being closed (one remaining comic told a joke about how she gets not just one, but two (ooh, two cupcakes, she’s a wild one) Magnolia’s cupcakes to calm her nerves and I nearly burst into tears.)
Afterwards, it turned out that all the Blaines were equally starved. So the three of them, me and asphnxma set out to find some grub, while the Ugarte half stayed behind and said they would meet us at whatever restaurant.
After I let everyone know that Magnolia’s wasn’t an option, we started to look for a place to eat.
Poor Sam was fairly catatonic from hunger, but Rick was determined to get “good pizza” now that he was back in New York.
We looked at the John’s Pizza menu, but decided that they wouldn’t have enough seats for all of nine of us.
“Hey, how about Pizzeria Uno’s?” I suggested since we were only a few blocks away.
At least I think that’s what I said, from the looks I received it’s also possible I suggested that they do something sexually inappropriate with their own mothers.
“WHAT?”
“No way!”
“Uno’s sucks, this is New York.”
Gulp.
Needless to say we kept walking. Somebody then suggested we eat dinner in Union Square and everyone agreed.
“Well, if we’re heading up there shouldn’t we take cabs?” I offered.
But to no avail. It’s like once you suggest Pizzeria Uno’s your opinion doesn’t count on any subject ever again.
Thirty minutes later we were halfway to Union Square when Ugarte called to say they were eating at John’s.
“We might as well go back and eat with them,” I said.
“You know, we might as well go back and eat with them,” said someone with credibility.
“Ok, let’s head back.”

And what follows now is my night in a series of conversation snippets, or as I like to call them convernippets.

Dawn: “How’s the new job?’
Asphnxma: “Good, the hours are great.”
Dawn: “You get out everyday at 6”
Asphnxma: “Yep, 9-6.”
Dawn: See, I couldn’t do that nine part.”
Asphnxma: “What is it with you people and getting up early… and by you people, I mean blacks.”

Dawn: Look, what happens at karaoke stays at karaoke.
Asphnxma: Yeah, until it shows up on your blog.

Rick: “You guys will never believe where Dawn wanted to have dinner.”
Dawn:“Hey! Pizzeria Uno’s is America’s number one pizza chain. It’s very tasty.”
Ugarte: “Dawn, you should check the dictionary. Tasty and greasy are in two different places.”

After filling four glasses with beer, Rick pours the remaining foam into a fifth glass for me:

Dawn: How is that for me?
Rick: That’s about as much alcohol as you can handle.
Asphnxma: I thought it was because she’s 3/5 of a person.

Sister of Rick: Well, your face is ugly.
Rick: yeah, calling my face ugly is like calling me a bastard...no, it's like calling me a son of a bitch. We have the same mom and the same face.
Dawn: Aww, siblings are so fun.


After explaining that his last name really is Star, I asked if kids in elementary school teased him:

Star: Yeah, I got Twinkle, Twinkle and Brenda Starr all the time. Then it was Ringo and Ken.
Rick (visibly appalled at the utter immaturity of it all) Ken? Really, people our age are making those kinds jokes about your name?
Dawn: Ken? Ohhh, Ken Starr! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA. Oh, sorry. Yeah, immature bastards. HAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAH

Dawn: OMIGOSH! I think that guy is famous!
Aspnhxma: Who.
Dawn: That guy behind me.
Rick: I don’t recognize him.
Dawn: I think he was in some BET or UPN show that white people never see…oh wait, nevermind, actually he’s my old boxing trainer.

Asphnxma: You probably watch more TV than everyone at this table combined.
Rick: Did you watch TV as a child?
Dawn: Of course. A friend of mine once told me I should be the focus of a study because I have achieved way beyond what my levels of television watching suggest is possible.
Rick: Yeah, so either it had no effect or you started out with an IQ of 400. You could have probably cured cancer, brokered peace in the Middle East, and mastered time travel.
Asphnxma: Peace in the Middle East? Don’t go crazy now.
Rick: Well, twelve hours a day for like twenty years…
Asphnxma: Hey, I’ll give you time travel.

And for the end of the night bill division fun we have Dawn on mathematics:

Asphnxma: Well there’s five of us, so let’s round the bill to an easy number, call it 85 dollars.
Dawn: 5 doesn’t go into 85.
Asphnxma: It’s 17.
Dawn: Eh, so’s your face.

Dr. Worm

Not a real doctor, but a real worm.

Just so you know.

I GUESS THEY DIDN'T ASK AND SHE DIDN'T TELL

DeGeneres also joined with the USO to send more than 5,000 care packages to the audience's relatives and friends in Iraq. The episode will be repeated on Thanksgiving on the Armed Forces Network.

Article

BEST KEPT SECRET

If you live at home as an adult, you don't have to travel to get there for the holidays.

WHO KNEW!?

They Might Be Giants sing the 'Malcolm In the Middle' theme song!

Yes, my new CD arrived.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"I've said this so many times, I've said it to Fred's face in debtor hearings: 'If I have to work to pay them, I won't work,"' O.J. Simpson told WSVN-TV in Miami on Tuesday. "It's that simple. So I'll just play golf every day."

That or I'll stab you to death, he added.

CANDIDATES DEMAND OHIO VOTE RECOUNT

David Cobb and Michael Badnarik raise $150,000 for the effort.

What do you mean who? David Cobb, Michael Badnarik, presidential candidates in 2004. Hello? Where have you been?

NBC CANCELS 'LAX'

Hey Boston Legal,

That means Blair Underwood is available.

POLICE THAT TASERED SIX-YEAR-OLD, TASERS TWELVE-YEAR OLD

According to the incident report, officer William Nelson responded to a
complaint that children were swimming in a pool, drinking alcohol and smoking
cigars about 11 a.m. on Nov. 5. Nelson said he noticed the girl was intoxicated
and told her to get dressed so he could take her back to school. "While walking
the girl to the police car, she took off running through the parking lot,"
Nelson wrote in his report.
Nelson, 38, said he chased her and yelled several times for her to stop. Nelson
said he pulled out the Taser and fired when the girl began to run into traffic.
The electric probes hit the girl in the neck and lower back, immobilizing her
with 50,000 volts.

Read more about the Miami-Dade police force.

Six year old boy doesn't ever want to go back to school.

GET WELL RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUBEN

What is "exhaustion" code for?

SIGN OF THE TIMES

Kim Barry, a research fellow at New York University School of Law, died Saturday after she was hit by a truck last week as she crossed a Greenwich Village street. She was 35.

My first thought after reading the story?

I wonder if she owned an apartment in the city?

CHRIS ROCK TO HOST OSCARS?

"If Bill Gates woke up tomorrow with Oprah's money he would throw himself out a window and slit his throat on the way down." -CR

Am I the only one that thinks this is going to be disasterous?

Not Uma-Oprah disasterous, but igry* disasterous?

*(A while ago, Rick's Cafe introduced the word "igry" to the world. )

QUOTE OF THE WEEKEND

Realtor: So, are you looking for a house, a condo, or a coop?

Me: I don't really know.

Realtor: Well, do you have an area in mind? Manhattan or Brooklyn?

Me: Um, no I don't know. I haven't really narrowed all that down yet. I just know I don't want to pay more than $400,000 for it.

SUNDAY NIGHT TELE-BLOGGING

Best commercial ever for a midseason replacment so goes to the Alias commercial that aired during another lackluster 'Desperate Housewives.'

"She can be anyone, anywhere, anytime", a.k.a. Sydney Bristow, ABC, Wednesdays at 9. Never thought I'd say this, but: can't wait till January!

'Desperate' is becoming unwatchably predictable. OK, I didn't figure out the victim until the stupid car came tearing around the corner, but who didn't know the boy was going to have an accident the second the father gave him a new car?

'The Practice 2' so sad. The Producers evidently thought the big problem with the show was its opening credits. Yes, the comic book form was horrible and ill-matched to a law show, but come on, was that really the top priority of crappy things that need to be fixed? (That was a rhetorical question, but just in case, the answer is no.)

1. Find Rebecca DeMornay. Run don't walk to the bank, give her whatever she wants to rejoin the cast.
2. Fire all the blond actors. (Not because they're blond, see Number 1, but because they suck. That they are blond just provided a clear, easy reference point.)
3. Get better clients of the week stories. Whither the shoe fetish doctor? Or barking lady? David Kelley can do better than a black Annie and a mamas boy judge. Let's go.
4. Less Alan saving the day. He ain't a superhero, he's a shady lawyer.
5. Get Dennie back in the courtroom. And not as a defendant. jeezaloo.
6. Enough with the ingenue female lawyers. Either they're good litigators or they're doing document review. Pick one.
7. Bring on the ingenue male lawyers like say MTV's Quduus or Dawson's Pacey, Shia LeBeouf, or some other undiscovered eyecandy. Alan and Dennie are captivating, but not hot.
8. Fix the credits. (see? This one's way down the list...)
9. Have them face off with Bobby Donnell and Rebecca Washington on a three-parter.
10. Get rid of that "BL" logo. It looks like 'BS' which isn't so good as a brand.

FIVE HUNTERS GUNNED DOWN

Deer held for questioning.

WE'RE GOING TO DIE
Southern California covered in three feet of snow.

In related news, New York City is currently 60 degrees.

FIRST EARTHQUAKES, THEN ASTEROIDS...

Now the second coming of the ice age? Somebody please explain to me in no greater than third grade level language why The Day After Tomorrow could never happen?

I really can't fit winter clothes into my panic room's survival kit. Read: a knapsack under my bed.

Good Lord

Has there ever been a more ridiculously cartoonish television villian than Desperate Housewives' Mrs. Huber?

I mean I'd sooner believe that Mr. Burns actually built a machine that blocks out the sun than the story that Mrs. Huber picked up an unconscious overweight man and wheelbarrowed him over to Brie's house just to ruin a flowerbed.

Couldn't the writers sub Gargamel into the plotlines instead?

I'm Ready, I'm Ready, I'm Ready, I'm Ready

Karol asked me why I wasn't at the movies today.

What? Why would I be at the movies today?

"Well, isn't there some spongy pants movie out today? I thought you would be first in line."

After my requisite, "Dude, it's SpongeBob Squarepants. You are so my mom," I had to admit it was true.

I dressed as SpongeBob for Halloween and for as long as I can remember, I woke up at 8 o'clock and flipped on Saturday morning cartoons.

Until recently.

When one Saturday last month, I flipped to ABC expecting Lilo & Stitch and...

Who the hell are these people and why aren't they animated?

It was bad enough when NBC went with weekend Today shows, but now ABC has sold out Recess and Filmore! for Charlie and Diane clones. Furthermore, according to the Dish TV guide, Kim Possible and Recess are no longer part of the truncated Saturday morning lineup, replaced, instead with Fricking Raven and Lizzie McGuire. I was pissed.

Now, I know, these are not life and death changes, like booby flashes during the Superbowl, that merit letters to Congresspeople (although I am certain ABC must be in violation of laws requiring a certain amount of children's programming), but when you're used to things a certain way and you've had the same permanent address for 21 years, it's the little things that grate your nerves.

So anybody up for some Spongy Pants tomorrow...at 8 a.m?

CONVERSATION OF THE DAY

Me: I want an Ipod for Christmas.

Mom: Eye Pad?

Me: No, Ipod. What's an eye pad?

Mom: I don't know, like an eyepatch?

JUST ASKIN'

Have you been around enough to know that dreams don't turn to gold?

RIGHT TO LIFE, INDEED

Teen convicted of shooting his girlfriend through the neck to prevent her from having an abortion.

The shooting April 29 left the 16-year-old girl a quadriplegic, and the fetus was declared dead three days afterward.

BILL MUST THINK SO TOO




So very disturbing.

SHE'S TOTALLY GROWN INTO HER FACE

BUSH THROWS A COUPLE OF MIDDLE FINGERS NEW YORK'S WAY

Instead the administration plans to push major amendments that would shield interest, dividends and capitals gains from taxation, expand tax breaks for business investment and take other steps intended to simplify the system and encourage economic growth, according to several people who are advising the White House or are familiar with the deliberations.

The changes are meant to be revenue-neutral. To pay for them, the administration is considering eliminating the deduction of state and local taxes on federal income tax returns and scrapping the business tax deduction for employer-provided health insurance, the advisers said.

via Atrios

CYBER SECRET SANTA?

"Christmas is the one time of year when people of all religions come together to worship Jesus Christ." - Bart Simpson

Has there ever been a blogosphere Secret Santa? Could be cool.

Any interest?


UPDATE: Ken Wheaton's out.

JUDE LAW=SEXIEST MAN ALIVE?

I don't see it.



But speaking of sexiest man alive, sweetie, the next time your agent suggests you star in a TV movie with Kelsey Grammer, Jane Krakowski, Jason Alexander and Jennifer Love Hewitt, you fire him/her immediately.

You don't need those TV usedta-bees soiling you with their dirty unemployability.
Especially that Love chick, she reeks of failure.

I LOVE MY JOB

If I make it through this week without being fired or dropping dead, I will truly be among the finest corporate litigators this world has ever seen.

Edited by siteowner for obscenity.

WHAT'S THE WORD I'M LOOKING FOR...


Ms. Simonetti has operated a Web log since January, calling it Diary of a Flight Attendant, and she says she did not hear from Delta about the site until after she posted a set of provocative photos of herself in her Delta uniform. In one photograph, her skirt is hiked to mid-thigh as she perches along a seatback on an empty airliner. In another, she is leaning over the seats, her blouse unbuttoned, exposing part of her bra. Ms. Simonetti said she posted those photographs because she thought they made her look pretty.

Ms. Simonetti said her supervisor called her on Oct. 29 and said she was being terminated for "inappropriate photos in a Delta uniform." Since then, Ms. Simonetti has filed a sex-discrimination complaint against Delta with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission and is threatening to sue Delta for $10 million, claiming other employees, primarily men, have their photographs posted on the Web in uniform and are not fired for it. The airline declined to comment on the case.

Maybe asphnxma has the right idea.

MILESTONE

Who had her first argument appearance in court?

"Yes, thank you, Your Honor." --Dawn Summers

woo.

We lost.

OK, MAYBE I AM PUNCHY

But the fact that indyboy13 is getting American Idol CD reminders still has me giggling.

MAYBE I'M JUST PUNCHY

But this made me laugh out loud, and when it's 10 P.M. and you're facing at least 3 more hours of working and a seven a.m. wake up call, that's saying a lot:

When you've got water stuck in your ear, how do you get it out?

What? I can't hear you...I have water stuck in my ear.

Madonna's funny.

Every Election Counts

Yup, even in Alabama there's no such thing as a good Republican:

Why would anyone in Alabama give a damn about the Democratic Party? Despite the fact that Kerry won 11 counties statewide, and despite the fact that the current Republican governor is a prime target to be beaten in 2006, Democrats just walked away from the state.
It took the conservatives 20 years to build a strong national base, and they did it one precinct at a time. From what I've seen this week, we liberals don’t have the stomach for it. When we hit a tough patch, we whine and walk away from the battle. I'm just disgusted by my fellow liberals." More feedback on the Letters Page.

via Andrew Sullivan

CAN SHE BE CONFIRMED?
Looks like Condi's been tapped to replace Colin Powell.

All eyes will be on this guy all through her confirmation hearings.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"Dude, I hate bees. And if you're the only bee in my bonnet, I want you dead."

See? I told you she was evil.

And yes, I still have 'Birdhouse in Your Soul' on repeat.

BUFFY UPDATE

No, sorry Giles, the world needs Joss making television shows.

BAH HUMBUG

J.R.R. Tolkien: Lord of the Rings. You are
entertaining and imaginative, creating whole
new worlds around yourself. Well loved, you
have a whole league of imitators, none of which
is quite as profound as you are. Stories and
songs give a spark of joy in the middle of your
eternal battle with the forces of evil.


Which literature classic are you?
brought to you by Quizilla


I would have thought myself much more Jane Eyre.

via Iocaste

PLEASE. TAKE GEORGE AND DICK WITH YOU.

Pretty please?

AN UNSCIENTIFIC SURVEY

A. How many of you have blown the picture tube on a television?

B. How many of you have blown three or more television picture tubes?

C. How many of you responding affirmatively to B. are under 30?


Now, on a completely unrelated topic: Plasma or Flatscreen?

Money is not too much a constraint, but please factor in execessively heavy usage.

DEAR BIG FAT OBNOXIOUS FOX EXECUTIVES:

Make a decision.

Either you are going to show Sunday night football or you are going to unveil the new season of your Sunday shows.

This hybrid quarter length Malcolms and 10:15 start times for Arrested Development has got to go.

Just hold off new episodes until January or February like ABC does, in the meantime just burn off the rest of the Method and Red Show.

KEN WHEATON WATCH

That's it, folks, I'm moving to Israel.


Let the countdown begin.


Day 3: He's still here.

KEN WHEATON WATCH

That's it, folks, I'm moving to Israel.


Let the countdown begin.


Day 2: He's still here.

WHY I BLOG

Because someday I will come up with something as funny as this and know that I have left the world a better place.

Until then, I live vicariously through the man that risks life and limb to smuggle out pages of Martha Stewart's daily prison journal.

Ninja throwing stars. hahahahahahaahhahahahahahahahahahahahaaha.

via Ugarte

ONE QUESTION

After reading this story:

Police used a stun gun on a 6-year-old boy in his principal's office because he was wielding a piece of glass and threatening to hurt himself, officials said Thursday.

I am left wondering how cops stopped crazed six-year-olds before the invention of the tazer gun?

STACY ROTNER UPDATE II

The hits keep coming:

"staff attorney?!?!? and she's trying to sell herself as a speaker on the law profession? unreal."

Whether she's a staff attorney or not, she's 26 friggin years old! The only thing she's qualified to talk about is how to keep your mouth shut in meetings.

n(she's definitely a few white castles away from pork-dom)dd.

For non-lawyer readers wondering what's so bad about being a "staff attorney."

CURRENTLY OBSESSED WITH...

They Might Be Giants' 'Birdhouse in Your Soul.'

And to think just this morning it started out as "what's the birdcage in your soul song?"

Who watches over you
make a little birdhouse in your soul
not to put too fine a point on it
say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
make a little birdhouse in your soul


and second best line ever:


"Though I respect that a lot, I'd be fired if that was my job."

JOHN ASHCROFT'S AMERICA

I knew he wouldn't let me down.

"The danger I see here is that intrusive judicial oversight and second-guessing of presidential determinations in these critical areas can put at risk the very security of our nation in a time of war," Ashcroft said in a speech to the Federalist Society, a conservative lawyers group.

How dare the judiciary review the decisions of the executive branch?

Sonsabeetches.

KARAOKE, ESQ*

If Saturday night is date night, Thursday night is getting together with people you like and want to see, but don't want to waste a good weekend night on night.
So when I opened my e-mail box on Wednesday to find an invite that read:

tomorrow at 8:30pm at village karaoke, 27 cooper square (between 5th
st and 6th st)

invite whomever you want, just come prepared to have fun and to listen
to [Dawn] sing clay aiken songs.


I thought, hooray, they like me (not a lot) but they really like me (and Clay Aiken!)

I took the subway down to 4th street and 6th avenue. I walked north, hmm...11st, 12st...
OK, must be in the other direction.
I turned around.
4th...3rd...Bleecker? what the ---
Heeeeeeeey, there is no between 5th and 6th. Tricked! I knew they didn't like me (or Clay Aiken.)
I decided to call information.
"You're nowhere near Cooper Square. Walk North and East. Walk up 8th street."
You know, I could still make it home in time for 'Apprentice...'
But I resisted television's siren song.
I walked for about fifteen or twenty minutes alternating between going North and going East until I came to a standstill.
I know this area and I know there's no karaoke bar here.
I called the evening's mastermind.
"Dude. Where is this place?"
"Cooper Square. Between 5th and 6th, like my e-mail said.
"Okaaay. And what would that be in 'girl'? Give me landmarks." (Apologies to all the girls out there who can read maps and follow written directions.)
"Umm. Where are you?"
I started walking.
"Um..in front of Subway, drug store..oh, a place that sells malts and burgers...Johnny Rockets!"
"Ok...walk like three blocks East to third and then turn left and walk two blocks."
"So, what you're saying is take a cab?"
Assured that despite my seeing nothing resembling the address given, I was merely a five minute walk away, and having missed my Apprentice watching window, I pressed on.
I walked past the Village Voice building, where I briefly interned during one of my summers in high school.
Grrrr. There it was.
Oh, what I would have given for an "across the street from the Village Voice" right from the start.
But I was there and ready to sing.
The four of us, three bloggers and a commenter -- went inside the booth.
The room was a snug fit, slightly larger than a bread box.
"Ok disrobe!" asphnxma announces enthusiastically shedding his outer layers.
The room was "decorated" with black wallpaper and white signs warning against standing on the table, smoking and the playing of any Dionne Warwick (and yes, 'That's what friends are for' counts.)
There were two long benches arranged in an L formation against the back and side wall, a table (that we were not to stand on) and of course, the giant TV and attendant karaoke machine against the front wall.
The situation looked bleak.
"Why did we decide to do this again?" Kaz queried.
"Hey, you guys said you'd be willing to go anytime," asphnxma protested.
"yeah, but...we were just humoring you. Your post was so sad...I just said that to make you feel better. I thought someone else would veto."
"Oh...see, I thought the same thing. Except, I assumed you would veto, Dawn."
"Hmmm...well, we need to coordinate our pity better next time."
The last member of our merry band of singing lawyers came back carrying the bottle opener.
Yeeeessss, beer will make it better.
Kaz and the other Dawn jumped in with the first song of the night: The Tide is High.
Then the video started. Two bikini clad teenage girls doing somersaults on the beach. Then two girls --again skantily clad-- despite wearing Catholic school girl uniforms, romp around a candy store.
Oh, yes. Blondie would be proud.
Then there was the requisite Boss, B-52s, and a daring boy-boy duet to Bon Jovi's Blaze of Glory.
The best line of the night definitely belonged to Alceste.
"Man, I can't believe they don't have any Duran Duran."
"Um..You're looking in the 'hits of today', you have to look in the 'hits of yesterday'."
Ouch.
I suppose, that by way of background, I should mention that in my car's 6 CD changer there is currently: Clay Aiken, Les Miserable Disc 2, NSync, Eminem, Destiny's Child and Paul Simon.
Which upon review is fairly representative of my musical tastes -- oh, except that my Reba and Martina are at the office.
My first song choice was Lisa Loeb's 'Stay' -- I figured even the punk rockers would know the words and it was a pretty simple song to sing.
Nothing disastrous -- we'll save disastrous for the Tom Jones duet later.
Insert some creepy "I'm going to kill myself or you" torch songs, a couple of weird 'my girlfriend makes me vaseline sandwiches' and 'peaches come in a can' ditties and I was up again.
This time I made a fatal error.
I confused karaoke with a jukebox.
"Ooh, I haven't heard LFO in forever. Put in Summer Girls!"
"Oh...umm...yeah, I have no idea how this goes. Chinese food makes sick dadadada...no, words so not helping."
I lost like three turns after that.
Then asphnxma gave me my big shot:
"Invisible, This is the Night or Solitaire?"
No contest.
Invisible.
HA! I was unstoppable, drowning out all snipes of "oh this is such a stalker song" or "who is Clay Aiken?" or "how much longer is this going to go on?" I belted out an impressive set of one of Clay's best songs (Bridge over Troubled Waters and I Survived You being the all-time best).
Then I got a little song happy: Usher's Confessions Part II, Ruben Studdard's Sorry for 2004, Britney's 'Lucky,' Train's "Meet Virginia" all followed in quick succession.
Each one preceded by "oh, Pop Hits" that's gotta be Dawn.
Look people "pop hits" are just that: popular hit songs! Don't let me have to play NSYNC's 'Dirty Pop'.
Because. I. Will.
"Hey...where'd the karaoke remote go?"
Dammit.
What do I always say about payback?
Anarchy in the UK.
Smashing Pumpkins' Bullets with Butterfly Wings (writing credit to W. Corgan)
William the Bloody, indeed.
The torment was occassionally interrupted by fun group sings like 500 Miles, R.E.M.'s Stand and Brown Eyed Girl (as an aside, who knew Brown Eyed Girl featured man/boy action? Not I.)
And then classic fatal karaoke mistake number 2.
"Let's do Tom Jones' It's Not Unusual!"
"YEAH!"
"It's not unusual to be loved by anyone...dadada da da da da da dooo..see me cryy"
Seriously, who knew there were other words.
Proving the old adage that some people never learn, an hour later:
"Hey, let's do Milkshake!"
"YEAH!"
"My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. Damn right it's better than yours. I could teach you, but I'd have to charge... la la lalala la...doo doo doo..."
Huh...would you look at that? I have no idea how those go.
Somebody put on Sinatra's New York, New York and I suddenly realized why that no dancing on the tables sign was there. There's something about "A Number 1, Top of the Hill" that makes you want to stand on top of a table and belt.
But we sufficed with a seated Rockette's kick line.
Sigh.
With that we dragged asphnxma away from the microphone --despite his very impressive "Suddenly Seymour" and poured into a cab headed downtown.
"That was fun."
"Yeah. Except now I can't get that damn "Seymour's my friend" outta my head.
Yup. One fine outing.
At least for a Thursday night.

*Kaz: We could do a karaoke bar/law firm!
Other Dawn: That was kinda done on Angel.
Me: Oh, I thought that was Ally McBeal.

BFF


R.I.P

KEN WHEATON WATCH

That's it, folks, I'm moving to Israel.


Let the countdown begin.


Day 1: He's still here.

STACY ROTNER UPDATE

So, turns out she passed the New York bar in *February* 2004.

It's funny, because it's true

Hell, so what if we make better salaries than other folks do. We also pay upwards of $1,300 a month for studio apartments--$1,300 a month is the mortgage on a four bedroom house with a yard in many parts of the country.

My head hurts.

No need to read the whole thing, that was pretty much the money shot straight to the kill zone. But if you wanna, I ain't gonna stop ya.

AWWWWW

A face even Iocaste has to forgive.

And a little Veteran's Day action:




via Toby

BECAUSE IT NEEDS SAYING...

[O]n November 2nd, 2004, John Kerry also received more votes than Reagan.

Harrrumph.

WHO THROWS A DEAD CHILD IN THE GARBAGE?

Oh, Renee Johnson.

NOT SO RANDOM THOUGHT

Watching two passive-aggressive people fight is like watching a blind man shave with a spoon. It's entirely frustrating and leaves you desperate to reach for something sharp.

THAT'S FUNNY

Considering we have the same job.

WHATCHA GONNA DO WHEN THEY COME FOR YOU?

News from California's front-lines:

Days before Veterans Day two armored tanks showed up at an anti-war protest in front of the federal building in Westwood. The tanks circled the block twice, the second time parking themselves in the street and directly in front of the area where most of the protesters were gathered.

News from New York's frontlines:

In New York City, a day after the election, a small protest took place in Union Square Park. I stopped by on my way to work and, at the time, the crowd numbered about fifty, most of them women. I wish I could've joined them but I was already late getting to my job. I was a little bit disappointed in the size of the crowd, though.

Later that evening I read this article onNYC.Indymedia.org: "Tonight around 6pm in Union Square the police came in from behind on a small crowd gathered post election. What made tonight's backward approach by the NYPD different, is that tonight they had their fingers on the triggers of machine guns."



Oh yeah, Shout Out to Veterans Day. Thanks for fighting so that we would be free and all that jazz.

VETERANS DAY

Stations fearing sanctions refuse to air 'Saving Private Ryan'

But, hey, thanks guys for fighting for our liberty. We all know that freedom isn't free.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"No Mets fan actually believed the Mets were going to win this year, well except metsin04. Hmm, will he have to change his name?"

-Dawn Summers

SOMEBODY'S FEELIN' THE BLUE STATE PRESSURE

Chafee had said last week he would consider switching party affiliation if Bush won because he felt the president was taking the party too far to the right.

So far he's staying put.

But, let's start finding a challenger.

NO PILL FOR YOU

Doctor denies birth control pill to patient.

Oh, and if you have an abortion, you're going to get cancer.


via Iocaste, who of course, you should be reading everyday.

TRYING TO GET A NUT

Because the world needs one more reality-TV blogger obsessed with shoes, I welcome Material Squirrel to the blogroll.

Forgive her template, she came to me for advice and I led her terribly astray.

Hmmm...a new motto?

One-time guest blogger J-Roam writes:

I have been getting Clarified regularly (uhhh, that sounds kind of nasty) although not frequently (again, kind of nasty).

Now

'So when are you going to write about the election?' Karol has taunted on and off for the last week.

It's been a rollercoaster week. Drowning my sorrows in strawberry daquiris in a Downtown Phoenix bar and grill on Tuesday night, only to wake up Wednesday morning to the Today Show saying Ohio was too close to call and that Senator Kerry had not conceded. Only to have that moment of joy dashed at the airport by CNN's news scroll alerting all passengers that President Bush had won re-election and that Senator Kerry planned to concede that afternoon.
They flashed the electoral college map.
Red.
%@#$%!!!
I was disappointed and mad, sure, but I wanted more than the trite "don't mourn, organize" or "reach across the aisle" message that I was getting from liberal blogs and talking heads.
Fuck organize.
My feet still hurt from running up and down stairs in expansive housing complexs in Phoenix, I am not doing one more thing.
Healing? Go to hell.
I was pissed and wanted revenge.
The following day I had mapped out a strategy for the blue states to economically strangle the red states with targeted boycotts and strategic shareholder suits. Then, we would buy up foreclosed properties and turn them into homeless shelters and drug rehab centers for the blue states. Next, I focused my evil genius on sell-out Democrats. Any liberal pundit who trashed the Kerry/Edwards ticket or any Democrat that helped George Bush in anyway, would suffer.
But, that was then.
The silly rantings of a crazy woman.
I shouldn't be targeting sell-out Democrats, we should target sell-out Republicans. And as if they read my mind, suddenly Arlen Specter and Olympia Snowe were on the air promising to protect a woman's right to choose and to approve only moderate judges.
Call it the Jean Carnahan principle.
As a Senator, that woman voted with President Bush something like 92% of the time. Yet, the Republicans went after her with the vengeance of a million fire red ants. And they beat her.
Well, Republican Senators in Blue States should similarly be targeted with a fury. Lincoln Chafee, Rick Santorum and Olympia Snowe are all on the chopping block in two years.
Sharpen your knives.
The country is divided in the Republican favor right now. And it sucks. But any talk of "changing our message" or "moving to the center" is ill-considered.
Nationally, we lost by a field goal. But, there were three states that almost went our way.
Losing sucks ass, but I do know that I'd feel a hell of a lot worse winning with George W. Bush, Tom Coburn or Jim Bunning as my guys.
Give me loser over crazy any day.
However, if you'd rather win than be right, well then seriously switch parties and do it now. Because the last thing I want is a National Democratic party trying to out-Christian or out-tax cut the Republicans.
Personally, I don't think we can, but philosophically I know we shouldn't.
We need to believe in our message of fiscal discipline, personal freedom and benevolent government. (Of course, we also need to figure out how to convince more people that our way is the way to go.)
Until then, we need to maximize the fact that we've already overwhelmingly convinced 20 states, including the largest and wealthiest in the union that Democrats are the way to go.
That means no more Republicans holding leadership positions in New York, California, or Massachusetts.
How many times do you hear oh, Mike Bloomberg's not really a Republican? Or George Pataki is a moderate? Believe me, George W. Bush doesn't get re-elected without the Republican convention being held in New York City -- and that doesn't happen without Bloomberg and George Pataki as Mayor and Governor.
How many of my liberal Democrat friends in California stood by and did nothing while Gray Davis was recalled and replaced with Arnold Schwarzenegger? "Oh, he's not so bad" or he's a "Liberal Republican," they'd say. Well, George Bush doesn't get Ohio in a sqeaker without Arnold Schwarzenegger stumping for him in the Buckeye state. It all matters, every office at every level. There is no such thing as a good Republican.
So, no more 'I'm going to Canada talk' people, we didn't do anything wrong, except try to be fair and open-minded. Well, they shoved our nuanced open minds up our asses and screamed 'in yo face' as they defeated all our national leaders and took the White House. Not much we can do about that now, or maybe even in 2008, but what we can do is take back our blue cities and our blue states one defeated Republican at a time.
If every vote in the Senate isn't 55-45 or 56-44, defectors will be forced to provide an accounting. Our Senators need to hang together or know that they will hang separately.
Don't get mad, get even.
Jim Jeffords, we'll be watching you.

OR DO WE HAVE TO WAIT FOR 'CHARMED' TO BE CANCELLED?

I think it's time for a 'Who's The Boss?' Reunion.

R.I.P. JOHN ASHCROFT'S AMERICA

The one thing I got out of the Bush administration is now gone.

S.O.B.s.

AND THEN WE, EAT THE EAGLE




via Right Moment

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"Nothing good has ever followed the words 'So I was watching Elimidate...'"


-Dawn Summers

RED STATE LIVING IS BAD FOR YOUR HEALTH

America's Health: State Health Rankings - 2004 Edition shows Minnesota at the top of the list of healthiest states. Minnesota has been among the top two states since 1990. New Hampshire is ranked second this year and has been in the top two states 11 times in the last 15 years. Vermont is number three, followed by Hawaii, Utah and Massachusetts. Louisiana is 50th and the least healthy state, while Mississippi is 49th. Tennessee, South Carolina and Arkansas complete the bottom five states.


Suck it Arkansas, Mississippi and Lousiana.

via Rick

HOW MUCH DO WE HATE STACY?

Stacy successfully balances her full-time legal career with her pursuit of her other interests. In her free time, Stacy enjoys running, dancing, visiting art museums, playing tennis, sailing, taking voice lessons, biking and reading. Stacy believes that the key to her success has been her enthusiasm, determination and hard work.

What a tool.

Does anyone know what law firm she is working for? I thought CC, but she's not listed in their directory.

MAN IMPRISONED FOR HAVING UNPROTECTED SEX

"A man was convicted by a judge Monday on charges he deliberately exposed 17 women to HIV by having unprotected sex with them. Five of the women have tested positive for the virus, which causes AIDS.
Anthony E. Whitfield, 32, faces a minimum sentence of 137 years in prison on the 17 counts of first-degree assault with sexual motivation and other charges."

This result seems wrong to me. Unless rape or fraud is involved you shouldn't be prosecuted for trasmitting an STD.

SILVER LINING?

We'll have twenty straight years of Yale rule through January 19, 2009.

PAYBACK'S A BIATCH!

My mom's friend just gave away her husband's 2003 Lexus to goodwill.

Now, that's passion

And to think Alec Baldwin couldn't even move to France.

GRRRRR

The only thing worse than watching a crappy-ass primetime soap like Desperate Housewives despite my better judgment, is missing an episode. Anybody want to fill me in on why Zach is in a psyche ward?

RAZING ARIZONA

Not really, but I couldn’t think of a better pun-filled title.
The most notable thing about Arizona is that it’s as hot as you’d imagine the desert to be, right up until you change into a T-shirt and shorts. Then, your teeth are chattering, your knees knock and the old lady from Ottawa is patting you on the back and spinning yarns about how you don’t know from cold.
After my near death experience that the afternoon I arrived, I came home to an unlocked house and the sound of laughter in the backyard. I stepped outside to find a middle aged couple and their teenaged daughter sitting around the table on the porch, the elderly Eskimo, er Canadian, Elizabeth was standing by the cooler.
“Oh, there you are! We wondered where you got off to. Muriel, Dawn is back.”
“Thank goodness, where were you?”
“Umm, the movies. I got locked out and didn’t want to bother you, so I saw a couple of movies at the theater.”
Well, sit. Sit. We have pizza and wine or beer.”
Oh boy. Large popcorn, raisinettes and two chocolate chip cookies ago that would have sounded delicious.
“I’m not really…yep, thanks the pepperoni mushroom would be delightful. Yes, and a glass of wine. Thank you.”
I sat down on an empty chair at the end of the table. Then stood up when the cold metal hit the back of my legs. Then sat back down when everyone looked at me like I was crazy. Then stood back up when they looked away.
Repeat.
The scene was one I had watched a dozen times in movies. Easy idle chat over pizza and liquor.
Wife puts her hand on her husband’s forearm:
“Bob, tell Muriel about your grandmother’s journals that we found”
And moments later is telling the tale of her grandmother-in-law’s newfound journals all on her own, as her husband smiles in between gulps of beer.
“Isn’t that just outrageous? Tell her how outrageous it was Bob,” finishing the story with an excited flourish.
“It was pretty amazing.”
(The story itself was fairly interesting as it seems that the grandmother-in-law in question was married to a diplomat who was sent to Iran during the sixties and they lived as guests of some sort of Shah. She kept diaries of their time there and wrote detailed letters to her family members –which she would then painstakingly copy on carbon paper so that each of her family members received their own personalized copy.)
I left the table every twenty minutes or so to add another layer of clothing to my outfit, until finally my T-shirt and shorts were covered in a long-sleeved button shirt, a turtle neck, a blazer, a pair of jeans, sweats and a Old Navy fleece hoodie.
“I thought you were from New York?”
“It’s 70 degrees in New York. Besides, New York doesn’t tease you with a hot sun at three o’clock and then replace it with a gnawing wind and unrelenting cold at nine.”
Laughter.
“My cousin lives in Brooklyn.”
“HA. Yeah, Janet in Brooklyn, do you know her?”
More Laughter. Having had a two-hour drinking head start, the table laughed long and hard at pretty much anything.
My kind of crowd.
“Where in Brooklyn?”
“Oh, who knows? Something with a garden,”
“Carroll Garden?”
“No, that’s not it.”
Our hostess, finished preparing pies for the next day’s big pit barbecue, joined the conversation: “Oh, I miss having a New York connection,” (her daughter and son-in-law used to have a place “minutes from Times Square.”)
“Oh, did you go to a lot of Broadway shows?”
“No, but I just loved being in the middle of everything,” she sighed as she sipped her wine.
“So what’re you girls doing for Kerry?”
At this point the line between vacationing and campaigning hadn’t exactly been made clear.
“Um, we’re going to … you know…get out the vote.”
“That’s great. Great, great, great. It’s so wonderful that you all are going to be doing such important work.”
Gulp.
“Well, I’m not doing anything right now, but when Karen and the other Dawn get here, we’re definitely getting right to work.”
“The other Dawn? Oh, that’s right I forget Muriel’s daughter was also named Dawn, that just won’t do. We’ll call her by her middle name when she gets here,” Elizabeth the Canadian said successfully naming and solving the problem in one breathy sentence.
She was a close talker.
“Oh, but Dawn and I also have the same middle name.”
“WHAT!” She gasped both pulling me closer and leaning back.
Suck on that oh queen of the cold.
“Can you imagine? You have both the same names!”
“No, I was just kidding. We don’t have the same middle names at all.”
Visibly relieved, she laughed right out loud: “You are just wonderful,” and we’ll call the other Dawn by her middle name,” she added making sure that my shenanigans notwithstanding, there would be no two Dawns confusion.
Mercifully, another couple walked into the backyard from the main house.
“Hello, hello, hello!”
Everyone stood to kiss hello, shake hands. If this were a TV show, here’s where’d you insert the applause track to welcome regulars – like Norm walking into the Cheers bar…yeah, I know, we need to watch less TV and stop talking in the third person plural about ourselves.
“Please, sit”
“Oh, we can’t stay. We were at Jim’s mother’s house and we’re stuffed and a little tipsy.”
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Water would be great, we probably she get a few glasses in before we hit the road.”
Muriel went to the kitchen to get two more glasses and the new couple shared a chair to my left.
Elizabeth the Canadian introduced me as Muriel’s daughter’s friend Dawn: “They’ve come to work for Kerry’s campaign here.”
“Oh, that’s great, we definitely need your help!”
“Dawn is from New York, we were telling her that my neice, Lindsay’s cousin lives in Brooklyn. Someplace with a garden.”
“Oh, do you know her Dawn?”
Everyone laughed at her question.
“What?”
“Well, Bob made that joke earlier. You know, as if Dawn would know everyone in New York.”
Nope, I only know all the black people. Well, that’s what I would have said if I knew them better…or at all…
“That’s funny.”
“I can’t believe I can’t remember where she lives in Brooklyn.”
“You sure it’s not Carroll Garden?” I offered again.
“Yes! That’s it.”
Muriel set the two glasses down and proceeded to fill them to the top with red wine.
“There you go!”
I smiled when without missing a beat, the wife took a long gulp and then gave her husband the kiss on the cheek that says: honey, I guess you’re drivin.’
“So we got everything all ready for tomorrow?” she said without waiting for any prostestation from her husband.
“Yep, I’ve dug the pit and all the meat is wrapped and ready to go,” Bob said from his end of the table.
“Dawn, you ever had a pit barbecue before?”
“Um…no. One time my friend had a grill on her balcony and we made hamburgers though.”
Laughter. I love this crowd.
“Well come on over here and check it out,” he said.
We walked over to the far end of the backyard, everyone followed close behind, except for the newly designated driver who went back into the house and emerged a few minutes later with a tumbler full of ice and water.
The pit was an actual hole in the ground about three feet deep and wide.
“Whoa! It’s like a real…pit,” said the dual Ivy League degreed lawyer from New York.
“That’s right,” said the thankfully not at all mocking Bob.
“So, um…how does it work,” said above-mentioned lawyer intentionally choosing nondescript words.
He showed me how each cut of meat had been wrapped tightly in burlap and explained that wood stacked alongside the pit would serve as coal and the meats (which included two whole turkeys, by the by) would be covered with dirt and left to cook for ten hours or so.
“Cool.”
Wait…what? He’s going to put the food in the ground?
“So… you bury it right in there?”
“Yup, we’ll come by around five tomorrow morning and get it all started.”
Huh. I’m sure I’m missing something.
“I can’t wait to see it,”
“Well, speaking of which –we should get going.”
“Actually, we should be going too,” said designated driver finishing his water.
We spent about half an hour cleaning up before everyone left.
Elizabeth the Canadian cleared the table, washed and dried the dishes, emptied the beer and soda cans, recycled, mopped, dusted, cleaned the windows, vacuumed, lifted up the house to refit it properly on the foundation and then mowed every lawn on the block before turning in.
“Elizabeth, you’re a guest, you don’t have to do that,” Muriel said about every minute and a half.
Yeah, lady, you’re making me look bad, said Dawn as she folded and refolded the dish towel, looking industriously productive.
“Oh, it’s no trouble. I’m used to working on the farm,” Elizabeth the Canadian would say as she continued to scrub and mow.
“Dawn, you must be exhausted, you should go to bed.”
Yeah, nice try, Elizabeth. I go to bed and you win the best guest of the night award. No, thank you. I will just refold this here towel until everyone goes to bed.
But when she brought out the ladder and went to clear the roof gutters, I threw in the towel.
Literally.
“Alright, good night.”
We’ll meet again tomorrow Elizabeth the Candian.

MAYBE THEY SENSE WEAKNESS

Coyotes close in on the White House

IT'S HOW YOU PLAY THE GAME

...and other things the losers say.

So my dream scenario went something like:

Kerry Wins Electoral College and Popular Vote on November 3rd.

Instead, Bush won the Electoral College and Popular Vote on November 3rd. Crap, but at least George H.W. Bush wasn't there to see it. HA!

Daschle Wins

Instead, Daschle lost. Well, that's what he gets for hugging Bush.

Coors Loses

One for three!

Carson Wins

Hmmm, this one wasn't even close. Weird.

Bunning Loses

Again, didn't happen. Kentucky would rather crazy than Democrat.

Schumer Wins

Woo, 2/6!

Obama Wins

Three for seven!

Keyes is 'disappeared' and never heard from again

Four for Eight!

Democrats Take the Senate by 1

Yikes. Well, you can't get them all right.

Dems Take the House

Or half right.

Pataki announces he's gay and resigns, Spitzer takes over.
Hmm, does it count if he's appointed head of the EPA and resigns.

Bloomberg changes registration back to Democrat
Announced that he voted for Schumer, does that count? No.

Rush Limbaugh goes to prison. and not the campy one.
TBD

OK, so endeth the Clareified clip show.

HOME BLOGGING!

Hooray!

CONGRATULATIONS STATE SENATOR AL CURTIS

Heh.

So's your face.

DAMN YOU, UNIVERSE

So, in closing: The curse of the Bambino is definitely over for the Sox, Bush is a lock and I will not win the lottery.

Grrr.

Get well, Elizabeth


I know I have been sweating her husband for months, but I don't want her to die. I mean who's gonna raise Jack and Emma when John and I run off to Rio?

CONGRATULATIONS, SENATOR COORS

Let it not be said that I am a good loser.

Oh, Tom we hardly knew ye.

VOTER TURNOUT LOOKS TO BREAK RECORDS

I guess no one wanted to die.

BIZARRO WORLD

Desperate not to repeat Al Gore's mistakes, John Kerry plans to deliver his acceptance speech at noon.

BECAUSE. BUSH SUCKS.

After months and months of wondering why Mickey Kaus was voting for John Kerry, he finally gives her answer.

Will Karol post it or leave her readers hanging?

MAKING HISTORY

It's not even 4:30 yet here in Phoenix. I am up, showered and blogging --all without the aid of an alarm clock. It's going to be one of those days...I can feel it.
Yesterday I was as nervous as a cat in a house full of rocking chairs, or as nervous as a woman sitting in a rocking chair in a house full of cats, I forget which.
This is it.
The last day of voting. And I just know that this election is going to make history.
But what kind?
Back when my fourth grade teacher explained the meaning of optimism and pessimism in much the same way many children learn it -- a drawing of a glass on the blackboard, with a horizontal drawn in chalk through the center, and that famous question.
"Is the glass of water half full or half empty."
We each in turn gave our answers:
"Half empty."
"Half full!"
"Half empty?"
"Half full."
"Ms. Bennett, that's not exactly in the middle, it's more like 7/12ths."
"Let's pretend it's half, Gabrielle."
To me the answer was obvious.
"Half full, it's not like it's grape soda. If there's water in your glass, then your glass is still full of water and you have to drink it."
Ms. Bennett smiled.
"You're an odd sort of optimist, Dawn."
Hmmm...well, that was still better than Gabrielle's stupid answer.
But so it is, I'm sure we'll make history over the next few days. But will it be that the President is the first one in history to consecutively lose the popular vote, but win the electoral college?
Will be break the curse of the Redskins' loss? Or win reelection without hitting that magic 50% in the polls?
Basically, will the glass be half full of a bitter pill to swallow?

UPDATE

A serious schism has split the crew working here in Arizona: the "don't jinx it"s and the "think positives."

Man, I hate the think positives.

FANTASY FOOTBALL

Woo! Can I say "crushed" the other guy's team when my score was almost double his?

THE ASSASSIN!

 

OH, SLEEP, PRECIOUS SLEEP

Today is the first time I've really gotten to blog since my first day in Arizona. Unfortunately, it was also the first day of canvassing and late night training on Arizona election law(not to mention all my holy vengeance planning), so I am exhausted>
Of course, I couldn't sleep without reading my regular blogs, writing a post and checking four or five polls in battle ground states.

Oh, also came to the realization that if I were running for President, John Kerry would not be walking through a Phoenix trailer park in sandals trying to get out the vote for me.

Good night.