muffy bolding

So, I get the new issue of hipmama in the mail today — and I’m paging through, skimming, alighting, and perusing…and right there, on page fucking 30…

is MY IZZY!

Sportin’ a bouffant and slurpin’ on a cherry popsicle, no less.

Lemme tell you, I am one proud lj auntie.

And just remember, Miss Izzy…when you’re a fabulous, famous, tragically hip supermodel struttin’ the catwalks of Paris…don’t forget your Auntie Muffy: she was, after all, the first one to proudly and shamelessly use a picture of your darling naked painted butt as her lj icon.

Much love to you, sweet baby.

Last night, Gregory and I were watching the episode of “The Daily Show” that originally aired the night of the Vice-Presidential Debate (ALL HAIL THE GRAND AND GLORIOUS TIVO!), and after watching Jonny Stewart crouch down, draw his claws, bare his teeth, and do his impersonation of the oh, so charming and personable Dick Cheney (“grrrrrr!”), I suddenly felt the oddest sense of peace come over me.

No matter what happens…even if Bush gets four more years as the bumbling, counterfeit leader of the most powerful and influential nation on earth, this time to shamelessly and fearlessly do whatever the fuck he wants, however the fuck he wants to do it — completely unfettered by the pressure of second-term re-election…even if he puts a halt to vital stem-cell research because he has to mollify his vast, ignunt, right-wing, fundamentalist christian base that exists mainly (and aptly) in those states that register on the political map as being the color of blood…even if this pointless, nonsensical war continues on and thousands more young men and women needlessly die for the agenda of a single man and his pack of slavering jackals…even if he stacks that gottdamned supreme court with neo-fascist pricks who don’t give a rat’s ass about a woman’s profoundly fundamental right to control her own body and reproductive destiny…even if this worst possible scenario comes to pass…

We will always have Jon Stewart — to tell us the truth…and to point out the absurdity of that truth. And, more importantly, to make us belly laugh and to glimpse, if even for just a moment, a small sliver of light in a time that will surely be one of the darkest that this country has ever known.

After what happened in 2000, I would put NOTHING past these malfeasant toads.

Editor’s Note: Please note the beginning of the final paragraph of this story: “The company has been largely, if not entirely funded, by the Republican National Committee.” The story below reports that this company has fled Nevada and is currently registering voters in Oregon.

In how many states has this company been allowed to register Democratic voters? How many ballots have been trashed? Please forward this story to anyone you know who cares about free elections in America.

From KLAS-TV, the CBS affiliate, in Las Vegas, Nevada:

It Appears Those Bastard Cocksuckers Are Up To Their Old Dirty Election Tricks Once Again

Babies on Set

Let me tell you what I love:

What I love is that for the past 48 hours, I was a much-respected (and much catered to — what the fuck is up with THAT? Don’t all these eager-to-please people hovering about me realize that I am nothing but unadulterated Sicilan trash?) television writer and producer hobnobbing with celebrities whilst shooting on the Disney lot…

and that today I am wearing old, dirty sweats and listening to the satanic soundtrack from “The Omen” whilst picking up the assorted messes of three cute babies, doing mountains of laundry, and scrubbing out unclean crappers.

I cannot tell you how much this makes me smile.

I am joyous. I am amazed. I am resplendent with gratitude for my life and for my loves — my family, my friends, and my work.

But most of all, I am glad to be home.

Things you have to believe to be a Republican today

Saddam was a good guy when Reagan armed him,
a bad guy when Bush’s daddy made war on him,
a good guy when Cheney did business with him,
and a bad guy when Bush needed a “we can’t find Bin Laden” diversion.

Trade with Cuba is wrong because the country is communist,
but trade with China and Vietnam is vital to a spirit of international
harmony.

The United States should get out of the United Nations,
and our highest national priority is enforcing U.N. resolutions against
Iraq.

Jesus loves you,
and shares your hatred of homosexuals and Hillary Clinton.

The best way to improve military morale is to praise the troops in
speeches while slashing veterans’ benefits and combat pay.

If condoms are kept out of schools, adolescents won’t have sex.

A good way to fight terrorism is to belittle our long-time allies,
then demand their cooperation and money.

Providing health care to all Iraqis is sound policy.
Providing healthcare to all Americans is socialism.

HMOs and insurance companies have the best interests of the public at
heart.

Global warming and tobacco’s link to cancer are junk science, but
creationism should be taught in schools.

A president lying about an extramarital affair is an impeachable offense.
A president lying to enlist support for a war in which thousands die is
solid defense policy.

Government should limit itself to the powers named in the Constitution,
which include banning gay marriages and censoring the Internet.

The public has a right to know about Hillary’s cattle trades,
but George Bush’s driving record is none of our business.

Being a drug addict is a moral failing and a crime, unless you’re a
conservative radio host (read Rush Limbaugh). Then it’s an illness, and you need our prayers
for your recovery.

You support states’ rights, which means Attorney General John Ashcroft can
tell states what local voter initiatives they have the right to adopt.

What Bill Clinton did in the 1960s is of vital national interest,
but what Bush did in the ’80s is irrelevant.

There is only one way to right these wrongs: REGISTER AND VOTE

Today we wandered through Stage 1 on the Disney lot — the vast and musty stage where, among other things, the opening orchestra scene from “Fantasia”, as well as many scenes from “Mary Poppins” (my favorite Disney movie of all time) were shot.

The place was fragrant with ancient wood and realized dreams. It smelled like magic in there.

We walked through and examined the six different sets being specifically built and dressed for our project. For those who have never experienced anything like this, it is an awe-inspiring thing indeed to have conceived, conjured and created a small world entirely on pixels and paper…and to then see it become solid, whole, and real before your very eyes. In a fucking historical Disney soundstage, no less.

In other words, for a hopeless sap like me — on hallowed ground.

I could scarcely take in all that the sound guy, the camera guy, the art director, and the first assistant director were saying to us on our last swing through before our signing off. All I kept hearing in my head was Julie Andrews jauntily singing, “Just a Spoonful of Sugar.” The profundity of the moment — and all that it represented — overcame me…and I stepped outside. As I stood there, breathing the warm air and wiping the tears from my cheeks, I realized that standing there outside Disney Sound Stage #1…I was finally home. At that exact moment, everything felt, as Mary Poppins would say, “practically perfect in every way.”

Tomorrow morning, call is at 7 a.m. — whereupon, for the first time, I shall walk onto said stage (in my ancient, green Chucks, of course)…a writer and producer of a Disney project. I am dazed and humbled by my good fortune.

Cue Jiminy Cricket’s themesong here.