AS IF this photograph weren’t already COMPLETELY ON TRACK being just exactly what it is…the awesome quotient went right through the motherloving roof with an extra added bonus delight:
The two babies caught unawares in the top row.
We’re gonna be alright.
Inane Muff Fact #637: When I am feeling despondent, bewildered, frightened, or in pain and need to close my eyes and go to “My Happy Place”…the place I go to is Rob and Laura Petrie’s living room at 148 Bonnie Meadow Road in New Rochelle, New York.
Honestly? This might just be the GREATEST SINGLE THING I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE.
Oh, and when you read this in your head, do be sure and read it in ol’ Barry’s voice and unmistakable cadence. Just trust me on this one.
I have to say, watching Karl Rove LOSE HIS MOTHERFUCKING MIND ON FOX NEWS has been just one of the many small, schadenfreudic pleasures of the past couple of days. Him squirming and stammering that something was obviously amiss in the poll numbers coming out of Ohio, i.e., THE SKETCHY ELECTRONIC VOTING MACHINE SOFTWARE THEY INSTALLED and RACIST/CLASSIST VOTER-DISENFRANCHISEMENT EFFORTS WEREN’T WORKING.
As I smirked and watched his mouth move and his butthole pucker…all I could think about was that scene in “The Sting”, where the BRILLIANT Robert Shaw stormed back to his compartment on the train, bellowing to his henchman that even despite his best poker cheating/deck stacking efforts, he STILL lost a brace of simolians to an also cheating Paul Newman. You just fucking KNOW that this is exactly what Rove was thinking — BUT HE COULDN’T SAY IT OUT LOUD:
Doyle Lonnegan: “What was I supposed to do — call him for cheating better than me, in front of the others?”
DEAD FUCKING ON.
I find it positively mind-boggling that a person can, in all earnestness, pronounce that, “God is our only president!” and NOT see the DIRECT IDEOLOGICAL CORRELATION between their own beliefs…and that of The Taliban.
UNFUCKINGBELIEVABLE.
“My mother wanted me to be a slim, respectable socialite. Instead, I became an overweight troublemaker.” — Brigid Berlin
AMEN. Spoken like the true loving, protective father of two young women whom he ADORES.
For me, this is what it ALL boils down to. Jobs don’t mean anything, economic recovery doesn’t mean anything, NONE of the issues at stake in this election mean A FUCKING THING…if women — half the population of this planet — do not have sovereignty over their own bodies. Basic human rights come first. Without that, we have NOTHING.
In other words…Gods and Guns CAN SUCK IT. VAGINA TRUMPS IT ALL.
Thank you for your bold and progressive across-the-aisle endorsement, sir. Thank you for working to ensure the continued fundamental human rights of your two daughters, as well as both of my own. You are an awesome father, an awesome leader, and a TRUE MENSCH.
Barack Obama is not perfect. He is, in fact, FAR from perfect. He is not The White Knight (or even The Black Knight,!) that we had all dreamily and ignorantly envisioned he would be four years ago, but neither is he The Socialist Muslim Anti-Christ that some of the more dangerously imbalanced people on my friends list believe him to be.
Look, I would LOVE to be a fearless, ruthless maverick and cast my vote for Roseanne Barr and The Peace and Freedom Party — if for no other reason than JUST TO BE ABLE TO SAY I DID. HOWEVER — speaking as someone with three children — with four Supreme Court justices currently in their mid to late 70s and ready to retire any second, I do not have the conscionable luxury of throwing away my vote just to make a point about the wickedness of government. It’s ALL wicked. As a parent, I must just make the LEAST wicked choice before me…and that’s Obama. Whoever is in the White House for the next four (or eight) years will very likely appoint judges who will go on to shape the legal and cultural entirety of my children’s lives — and for whatever else he or she may be, that motherfucker cannot — CANNOT — be an insane religious fanatic. FUCK THAT.
I totally have hope for a victory by a third (and fourth and fifth!) party candidate someday, and will, at some point, cast my precious vote for one of them…however, with (at least) four seats on The Supreme Court at stake over the next couple of years, all I am saying is…this is NOT the fucking election in which to do it. Like a scorching case of herpes, elected politicians rise and fall, come and go, erupt and go dormant — but appointed and anointed Supreme Court justices stick around FOREVER and in their wake, SHAPE EPOCHS.
If you doubt the power or potential malfeasance of a Supreme Court that skews Hard Right…just think back to the counterfeit presidential election results of 2000. Eight years of Karl Rove gutting this country like a carp. Even as I type this, Herr Rove is waiting in the wings, wearing women’s panties and a ball-gag and covered in some 19 year old DC hustler boy’s feces, and eagerly sharpening his de-boning blade in anticipation of regaining his power. (DE-boning, of course, BECAUSE HE CAN’T FUCK.)
So…for me, for my daughters, for my sisters, for my friends…on Tuesday, BARRY IT IS.
Shantih. Shantih. Shantih.
And amen.
I got your passive subservience RIGHT HERE.
Giggle behind THIS HAND, motherfucker.
GEISHA GIRL POWER!
For one weekend a year, The Happiest Place On Earth becomes The GAYEST Place On Earth — and on that particular weekend, where else would a Hopelessly Devoted Card-Carrying Fag Hag BE? Yes, Mein Poppets, It’s Gay Days here at Disneyland! To be here is an experience, indeed — huge crews of delightful, delighted, belly laughing queens — mouse ears on heads arms linked like little kids, running from Fantasyland to Tomorrowland — all wearing red t-shirts in sodomitic solidarity…each smile, each belly laugh saying, “This is who we are. GET OVER IT and LET’S HAVE FUN, MOTHERFUCKERS!”
And as if that’s not awesome enough, you can well imagine the number of straight, married, Christian, Conservative, Right Wing, Homophobic Republicans who are here at the park this three day Columbus Day weekend…who had the misfortune to wake up this morning, take a shit, take a shower…and unknowingly put on their best RED T-SHIRT. YEAH. TOTALLY oblivious that they are frontin’ for The Faggotry. Everytime I see one, I shoot him a huge, dazzling smile, along with a KNOWING WINK. Like it’s just OUR LITTLE SECRET.
muffy bolding 