Welcome To The Party, Orrin

About time you bought a fucking clue as to what Obama is doing.

But you will save your powder in the Senate Confirmation hearings for a real battle and give Elena Kagan a pass. No need to ruffle the feathers of your poker buddies.

The same way you kept your powder dry on Eric "I can call the US a 'Nation of Cowards' but can't call Radical Islam 'Radical Islam'" Holder.

The same way you kept your powder dry on that Wise Latina Woman.

The same way you kept your powder dry on Janet "J-Nap" Napolitano.

And the same way you kept your powder dry on Timmy "Turbo Tax" Geithner. Who, according to the senior Senator from Utah:

[C]alled [Geithner] "brilliant" and "honest" and said that, despite his tax errors, "I don't think we can get a better person for this position. . . . He has the kind of background that should be very helpful to us at this time."

May you go the way of Bob Bennett.

Things To Make Matthew Yglesias's Mangina Hurt

The first in an ongoing series of what makes Matthew Yglesias curl in a corner of the kitchen, scarfing down a half gallon of ice cream. Other than another dateless Friday night.



And to prove that Yglesias's pissed himself scared over this commercial (Warning, linking directly to "Think [snicker] Progress").

This is how you know your ass stinks

Send A T-Shirt And Send A Message (Let’s Make This Go Viral)

Tim, of Left Coast Rebel, contacted me via email with a request to make an idea go viral in support of the five kids who were sent home because they chose to wear T-shirts that depicted the American flag. The idea is the brainchild of Chris, the proprietor of My Thoughts on Freedom. I’m supporting the effort and I hope you will too.

If you own a blog, please repost this on your site and invite your readers to send T-shirts to the patriotic kids who stood up for America to let them know that we’ve got their backs.

America is under attack. Ourhistory, our culture and our way of life has been assailed by forces from within to the point that if you celebrate America and what it stands for, you are called a racist, a Nazi or a tea bagger.

The latest assault on America came last week when five high school students in California were sent home for the day because they chose to be patriotic and wore T-shirts depicting the American flag on Cinco de Mayo. This act of patriotism was deemed incendiary by one school official and offensive and disrespectful by students of Mexican descent who claimed that this was their day to celebrate Mexico.

This cannot be tolerated. Even though the school's principal has since apologized, that does not begin to address the issue which is this is America and every day we are a free nation is a cause to celebrate.

To this end, we need to band together to show the anti-America crowd that we will not accept these assaults on free speech and patriotism. We also need to show, not only these five students but, students across the country that they should not be ashamed or fearful of showing their pride in America at any time.

Please show your solidarity and send a flag adorned T-shirt or any other representation of the flag to:

Flags for Freedom

c/o Live Oak High School

1505 East Main Ave.

Morgan Hill CA 95037

Let the kids know that America’s got their back.

Read more at No Sheeples Here.

Christina Henricks Dishes Advice But Are Guys Going To Seriously Listen Or Nod Politely?

I'm leaning toward nodding politely.

Thanks to Jake Tapper.

Fuck, I haven't posted in a while

So here's some choice pics from last weeks tea party. Press pass, bitches!

Victoria Jackson and Chris Cassone


Have you met an MP today?


mu mu mu mu my Michelle!


Both of have been called Dick, but one of us is me.


And now you have visual on MrMaryk. God help us all.

Moron Dinner Theater

From the comment section over at Ace of Spades.

[This is a dialog between MONTY, a hard-hearted individualist; and CHET, his neighbor. MONTY earns his living in a scattered way: pimping, murder-for-hire, trick-roping, singing in honky-tonks, and running a halfway house for nude dancers. CHET works for the state government as a third assistant to the supervisor in the Department of Culverts, Abutments, and Rights-of-Way; he is the foreman of his union local.]

Scene: CHET anxiously rings MONTY's doorbell. He barely glances at the IF YOU'RE SELLING SOMETHING, PISS OFF sign near the door.

Monty: Well, Chet. It's been, what? Forever? What brings you over to the dark side? Did you come to pick up all the crap your dog left on my lawn?

Chet: Monty! Monty...I...my boss Paulie sent me over. You know Paulie?

Monty: That fat turd who took forever to process my "Monty's Home for Wayward Pole-Dancers" permit? That guy? 'Cause if it is, fuck that guy, and fuck you for reminding me of him.

Chet: No. I mean, yes, that's the guy, but...well, Paulie wanted me to go to everyone in the neighborhood. To explain the...the situation.

Monty: Situation?

Chet: Yeah. Apparently...well, the state is broke. The recession, you know? And, well, you know I'm due to retire this year, and--

Monty: Retire? You're what, 50? Who retires at fifty fucking years old?

Chet: Hey, I got my thirty! My dad got me the job in the culvert inspection department right out of high school! Anyway, there's kind of a...a problem. With the, uh, the pension fund. The state promised some fat increases back in the day, but it looks like the required payment to the pension fund this year will require over 100% of expected revenues.

Monty: So that pothole in the street will only get bigger and deeper? The kids already call it Lake Watchoolookinatwillis. I think a croc lives in it. Or an alligator. Whatever the fuck we got in the northern hemisphere.

Chet: Uh...yeah, I guess. I been meaning to have the road crew look at it, but union rules prohibit them from working on any day that ends in a "y", you know. Anyway, what I really wanted to say is that Paulie -- that's my boss -- wants me to go around and explain why your property tax assessment is going up. If we don't cover the pension shortfall, it could mean that I have to work another five years. And that's just not fair!

Monty: Fair? How about this: fuck yourself. And you can carry a cordial "fuck you" over to that fat fuck Paulie too. My property taxes have gone up every year I've lived here -- property values sink, the roads suck, snowplows don't run in the winter. What the fuck am I paying you people for?

Chet: Hey, now! The State pays us!

Monty: Ever wonder where that money comes from, O Zimba the Wise? From tax receipts. Which means you do work for me, directly. And as your boss, let me repeat: fuck you.

Chet: So you don't care if hard-working people lose their retirements? What am I supposed to tell my family?

Monty: Tell them you got robbed. Tell them that someone lied to your gullible ass every day for the past thirty years, made you totally unrealistic promises they had no intention of keeping, and that you were too stupid to make contingency plans. Tell them that you traded your honor and integrity for job security so many years ago that you've forgotten what it's like to do an honest day's work. In short, my poor clueless busted-luck friend: tell your family that you fucked up and that you're sorry. Tell them that you intend to immediately begin saving every spare dime, that you plan to work two jobs, that you'll beg, barter, or sell anything of value you have to keep a roof over your family's head. Or you can just dispense with the niceties and pull a gun on me -- if you're going to rob me, just be up front about it.

Chet: I don't know where the hate is coming from. Aren't we neighbors? Fellow citizens?

Monty: A neighbor and fellow citizen wouldn't be trying to rob me.

Chet: It's not robbery! We just want what we're owed!

Monty: You're owed what you earned. And from where I'm standing, chum, you haven't earned Jack Shit. You're acting on behalf of liars and thieves, and you're trying to extort payment out of me because you ended up believing all that bullshit you've been slinging over the years. Well, you're shit out of luck as far as this peon is concerned: I ain't giving you the stink off of my shit. You want your money? Go get it from the fuckers who lied to you.

Chet: You know, we can make you pay your taxes. It's the law!

Monty: You can't make me do fuck-all. Oh, you and people like you can punish me if I don't obey, but you can't make me do anything I don't want to do. And you know what? A government that's too chicken-shit to call "theft" by its proper name is probably too chicken-shit to come and arrest me either. Fuck them and fuck you too, pal. Live on your salary like everyone else.