Woke up this morning, swung my legs out of bed and stepped in a squirrel. A touching gift of roadkill from my kitten. As my old mother used to say, the day never goes right after you dip your phalanges in a putrescent rodent. Boy howdy.
So I’ve had a rolling asshole of a day with no end in sight, and no time to compose the sort of thoughtful essay for which I am justly acclaimed all across the moronblogosphere. But this thought is definitely better out than in:
That flock of dried up useless old farts known as the Iraq Study Group put their bald pates together and came up with the brilliant idea of gradually bringing home the troops as Iraqis are better able to defend of themselves, maybe in a couple of years, but no firm deadline. Huh. Stabilize the situation then go home? No shit? Thanks, gentlemen. I could have sat in my livingroom and picked a more helpful idea out of my ass after a six pack of Bass and a Xanax.
Every generation invents a new word for “retard” because the old one has devolved into an insult. Our new word is apparently “bipartisan.”
There is not one single thing I’ve heard reported on the radio (too busy to read it for myself today) that wasn’t exactly what I assumed the plan was all along, with the exception of the extraordinarily bipartisan idea of encouraging the dangerous nutballs of Iran and Syria by treating them like grownups. Why is it the hacks nobody voted for seem to hang on so much longer than the ones we elect?
Isn’t it past your nap time, you stupid old coots?