First of all, I am neither a crier -- nor am I a prayer. But I am tonight.
I am so fucking proud of this country for the first time in a long time. Every night for the the past week -- I prayed for Barack Obama. I couldn't sleep last night for the fear that somehow, the assclowns that seem to have entrenched a foothold in this great nation might somehow again weasel a simpering puppet into 2000 Pennsylvania Avenue to constipate the collective karmic and economic colon of this country for the next four years.
Tonight when Barack Obama was named President-Elect of this once-great (and soon-to-be-great-again) country, I wept. I wept tears of joy and hope. I even tolerated looking at Oprah's face. It feels good to be an American again.
P.S. After tonight, Oprah officially resumes chapping my hide on a daily.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Where Art Thou Dick Cheney?
I'm just going to cut to the chase on this one. I think Dick Cheney IS the Axis of Evil. Oh yeah, I went there. I think he is a evil powerbroker who yanked the strings of that simpleton George Bush for the the last eight years and now that his empire of sand is crumbling and America is little more than a Banana Republic (NOT the place you buy mid-priced sportswear, BTW) Dicky has slithered off into the sunset to leave W holding the big bag of shit. Just sayin...
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Lynn Forester De Rothschild's Hermes Birkin Is Fake (Just Like Her)
Lynn Forester De Rothschild -- the Facial Merkin wonders if you know that name? I didn't think so. First of all -- she's a Lady. Andy by "lady" I don't mean in the "I have a vagina, ergo I should be Vice President" sort of way -- but more in the "I married some titled, foreign rich dude so now you can suck it" sort of way.
Next, you should know she was one of Hilary Clinton's biggest fundraisers. She wrangled her rich cronies into coughing up over $100,000 to support Mrs. Clinton's run for the White House. But now...? She supports John McCain. Why, you ask? Did she have a labatomy? No... It's because she thinks Barack Obama is (wait you'll love it!) an.... ELITIST!
That's right. Mrs De Rothschild... Oh...?! Pardon moi! I meant to say Lady De Rothschild is just one of us folks. Didn't I see her lingering over the half-price tube socks bin at Walmart just this morning? She's all about simple values like: royal titles, owning banks, telecommunications companies and diamonds bigger than your head. Shucks...
Because when it comes to government, here's what I want -- AVERAGE. Just average for me. I wouldn't want anyone spectacular or well-educated running this popsicle stand we call a country. None of those Harvard schmucks need apply. I want me someone who graduated at the bottom of their class. Better yet, I want someone with a trade school education. How 'bout a beauty school dropout?
What Lady De Rothschild's real problem is (besides a face like a wolverine's scrotum) is that she didn't get her way. She doesn't really give a crap about who gets elected -- only that she feels like she has some say in the matter. So she took her gold-plated toys and ran home.
Let me be crystal clear on one matter and I'll make sure the crystal is Baccarat so you can stand to touch it -- you are NOT "one of us." You are an arrogant child who needs to misuse her perceived power by appearing on CNN to try to undermine the candidate of the party you claim to support because it will affect your tax bracket favorably.
Here's a suggestion, why don't you shove your botoxed face back up your leathery, old ass. If we want to hear from you we'll give you a small kick and you can rattle your jewelry.
Next, you should know she was one of Hilary Clinton's biggest fundraisers. She wrangled her rich cronies into coughing up over $100,000 to support Mrs. Clinton's run for the White House. But now...? She supports John McCain. Why, you ask? Did she have a labatomy? No... It's because she thinks Barack Obama is (wait you'll love it!) an.... ELITIST!
That's right. Mrs De Rothschild... Oh...?! Pardon moi! I meant to say Lady De Rothschild is just one of us folks. Didn't I see her lingering over the half-price tube socks bin at Walmart just this morning? She's all about simple values like: royal titles, owning banks, telecommunications companies and diamonds bigger than your head. Shucks...
Because when it comes to government, here's what I want -- AVERAGE. Just average for me. I wouldn't want anyone spectacular or well-educated running this popsicle stand we call a country. None of those Harvard schmucks need apply. I want me someone who graduated at the bottom of their class. Better yet, I want someone with a trade school education. How 'bout a beauty school dropout?
What Lady De Rothschild's real problem is (besides a face like a wolverine's scrotum) is that she didn't get her way. She doesn't really give a crap about who gets elected -- only that she feels like she has some say in the matter. So she took her gold-plated toys and ran home.
Let me be crystal clear on one matter and I'll make sure the crystal is Baccarat so you can stand to touch it -- you are NOT "one of us." You are an arrogant child who needs to misuse her perceived power by appearing on CNN to try to undermine the candidate of the party you claim to support because it will affect your tax bracket favorably.
Here's a suggestion, why don't you shove your botoxed face back up your leathery, old ass. If we want to hear from you we'll give you a small kick and you can rattle your jewelry.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Sarah Palin & Your Butt
So Republican VP nominee, Sarah Palin is a devout Pro-Lifer and a "lifelong member of the NRA." The Facial Merkin wonders, how does one become a lifelong member of the NRA? Do you come out of the womb toting a 22? For me, I find warmongering and killing stuff for fun and the Pro-Life stance to be a bit mutually exclusive. But I came out of the womb clutching my wiener like a normal baby --so what do I know?
As it turns out Sarah's 17-year-old daughter, Bristol (that's her real name, not her stripper name) is pregnant. Again, that seems to fly in the face of Sarah's "abstinence" stance. While I may be your normal, average wiener-grabbing former baby who doesn't think they are in any position to attempt to dissuade an entire generation of young people from denying a biological imperative -Sarah thinks otherwise. She wants you to control your children's wieners and vaginas even if she can't control her own daughter's.
I like to think we are all the boss of our own butts. Hence the post-gestation celebratory grope in the delivery room. But just like I'm not going to listen to any lectures on veganism from some dude munching bacon, I'm not going to listen to Grandma Sarah's position on abstinence.
By the way, anyone watching the Republican National Convention? Holy crapweasel!
By the looks of the audience, it Grand Old Party is presently made up of old ladies, fat dudes, red-headed children, christian singers, facelifts, funny hats, mall bangs, wire-rimmed glasses, cheap suits, apathetic clappers and a whole mess of white folks.
Moreover, by the looks of all the empty seats, it is also the party of the invisible man. Or, as the case may be, the invisible gun-toting, pro life, woman. Watch your wieners, she's got a gun.
As it turns out Sarah's 17-year-old daughter, Bristol (that's her real name, not her stripper name) is pregnant. Again, that seems to fly in the face of Sarah's "abstinence" stance. While I may be your normal, average wiener-grabbing former baby who doesn't think they are in any position to attempt to dissuade an entire generation of young people from denying a biological imperative -Sarah thinks otherwise. She wants you to control your children's wieners and vaginas even if she can't control her own daughter's.
I like to think we are all the boss of our own butts. Hence the post-gestation celebratory grope in the delivery room. But just like I'm not going to listen to any lectures on veganism from some dude munching bacon, I'm not going to listen to Grandma Sarah's position on abstinence.
By the way, anyone watching the Republican National Convention? Holy crapweasel!
By the looks of the audience, it Grand Old Party is presently made up of old ladies, fat dudes, red-headed children, christian singers, facelifts, funny hats, mall bangs, wire-rimmed glasses, cheap suits, apathetic clappers and a whole mess of white folks.
Moreover, by the looks of all the empty seats, it is also the party of the invisible man. Or, as the case may be, the invisible gun-toting, pro life, woman. Watch your wieners, she's got a gun.
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