[Movie removed because of bandwidth restrictions. Sorry!]
Love to all, even you the lady who came three hours after the thing started and said "Is this IT?!?"
Sunday, April 30, 2006
GarageSale Cam: the movie
Well, it's all done, now. I'm exhausted.
Love to all, even you the lady who came three hours after the thing started and said "Is this IT?!?"
Love to all, even you the lady who came three hours after the thing started and said "Is this IT?!?"
Saturday, April 29, 2006
GarageSale Cam: Live!
Ladies and Gentlemen... the sale is on.
This camera should update every minute or so:
Love to all, even you... whoever tries to out-haggle me.
This camera should update every minute or so:
Love to all, even you... whoever tries to out-haggle me.
GarageSale Cam: Live (tomorrow!)
I'm going to see if I can set up the camera that's built into my laptop to do a constant update of the garage sale tomorrow. If you are really bored, feel free to check it out.
We'll be doing this craziness from around 9:30 to 2:30 U.S. Eastern.
If you see an image below, the test is working.
Love to all.
We'll be doing this craziness from around 9:30 to 2:30 U.S. Eastern.
If you see an image below, the test is working.
Love to all.
I love my wife...
...but she get's hyperstressed before events. Birthday parties, holiday dinners...
...and garage sales.
It's a good thing that, on balance, I'm about three hundred times more irritable than she is, or else I could take this moment to be all self-righteous and pissy.
"Pissy?" Is that a word?
Anyway.
Love to all. Even you, the baseball coach who tried to sneak his ace pitcher back into the game when it suddenly became tied up.
...and garage sales.
It's a good thing that, on balance, I'm about three hundred times more irritable than she is, or else I could take this moment to be all self-righteous and pissy.
"Pissy?" Is that a word?
Anyway.
Love to all. Even you, the baseball coach who tried to sneak his ace pitcher back into the game when it suddenly became tied up.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Sometimes, I hate people. - updated!
So, my wife is parked at the elementary school. She says hello to her friend, whom I shall call (for no reason, and with no ill feeling) "Tweak." Tweak then proceeds to drive into my wife's car with her big SUV. My wife's car was stationary. Tweak gets out of the car and says "My fault! I'm so sorry!" The police are not called.
After getting home, Maggie calls Tweak for her insurance. Tweak says "My husband says not to give you my insurance information. He says it's your fault because you were parked illegally."
Now, regardless of fault... there is absolutely NO reason not to exchange insurance information. I mean, our insurance company would find it out anyway, and all it creates is an unnecessarily combative situation.
Maggie and I get into an argument on the phone as I tell her to drop everything, go to the police station, and file an accident report. She gets mad at me for being bossy. She is probably right.
Then, Tweak calls Maggie, all apologetic and crying and saying "I don't know why I acted that way." And then the truth comes out: she had called her insurance company and they said that she was totally at fault: the moving vehicle that hits the stationary vehicle is to blame. End of story.
So now her insurance company is paying for our car to be fixed, and I'm left thinking that her husband is one of those guys who turns into a jackass under pressure. Did I mention that:
Love to all. Even you, Tweak's husband.
PS: Update! Actually Maggie wasn't even IN the car. She was parked at the pickup spot for the nursery school. The car was empty when Tweak hit it.
After getting home, Maggie calls Tweak for her insurance. Tweak says "My husband says not to give you my insurance information. He says it's your fault because you were parked illegally."
Now, regardless of fault... there is absolutely NO reason not to exchange insurance information. I mean, our insurance company would find it out anyway, and all it creates is an unnecessarily combative situation.
Maggie and I get into an argument on the phone as I tell her to drop everything, go to the police station, and file an accident report. She gets mad at me for being bossy. She is probably right.
Then, Tweak calls Maggie, all apologetic and crying and saying "I don't know why I acted that way." And then the truth comes out: she had called her insurance company and they said that she was totally at fault: the moving vehicle that hits the stationary vehicle is to blame. End of story.
So now her insurance company is paying for our car to be fixed, and I'm left thinking that her husband is one of those guys who turns into a jackass under pressure. Did I mention that:
- Our daughters are in the same class?
- The husband runs a company with over a billion dollars in assets? (That's a B.)
Love to all. Even you, Tweak's husband.
PS: Update! Actually Maggie wasn't even IN the car. She was parked at the pickup spot for the nursery school. The car was empty when Tweak hit it.
Give the oil companies a 20 year lock on ethanol.
Seriously.
About the post below this one, Ginamonster said, tongue-in-cheek:
Yeah, that's right. I used color. Because this is important. It may seem unfair, pandering to Big Oil, but that's the reality of things. We've got to get this thing done, and this is how to do it... in my layman's opinion.
Love to all. Even you, the grumpy old lady who hip-checked me on the 6 train.
About the post below this one, Ginamonster said, tongue-in-cheek:
yeah, but then someone in the oil business might lose money, and we can't have that!!But she's right. We have to incentivize the living shit out of an ethanol conversion. Make it worthwhile for Big Oil. So I say: give American-owned oil companies a 20-year lock on ethanol distribution, as long as they have a development and distribution process in place within a finite amount of time.
Yeah, that's right. I used color. Because this is important. It may seem unfair, pandering to Big Oil, but that's the reality of things. We've got to get this thing done, and this is how to do it... in my layman's opinion.
Love to all. Even you, the grumpy old lady who hip-checked me on the 6 train.
A better idea for that $100.
How about giving everyone a $100 credit to convert their cars to run on ethanol?
The actual conversion costs, well, $100 dollars. So this would be perfect.
Prior to that, of course, you'd actually have to grow more corn... but with millions of acres lying fallow, I think we're more than prepared for that. Why haven't we started a national ethanol conversion? Brazil did, and they are achieving exactly what we are talking about: losing our dependence on foreign oil.
This is a relatively inexpensive process using existing technologies. What's the holdup?
Love to all. Even you, the dude who beeped before the light turned green.
The actual conversion costs, well, $100 dollars. So this would be perfect.
Prior to that, of course, you'd actually have to grow more corn... but with millions of acres lying fallow, I think we're more than prepared for that. Why haven't we started a national ethanol conversion? Brazil did, and they are achieving exactly what we are talking about: losing our dependence on foreign oil.
This is a relatively inexpensive process using existing technologies. What's the holdup?
Love to all. Even you, the dude who beeped before the light turned green.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
The wrong kind of gas.
Four Republican Senators are introducing a bill to give $100 to every citizen for gas. That's, what: 33 gallons of gas... or 2 or three fill-ups. Hmm. I'm not sure that's going to solve the difficulty involved with our dependence on foreign oil.
But that's not what bothers me.
In what I consider to be an underhanded and devious move, embedded in the bill is a provision which will open up a section of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge to oil drilling.
By embedding a provision that Democrats and moderate Republicans MUST vote down, the Republicans turn an empty gesture into someting much worse: a political charade. Clearly, the Republicans aren't interested in helping you afford to fuel your car. Rather, they are forcing the Democrats to vote down the bill so that the Republicans can say: "Look, the Democrats don't want to give you a rebate."
$100 or gas? That's a lot of hot air.
Love to all. Even you, Senator Santorum.
But that's not what bothers me.
In what I consider to be an underhanded and devious move, embedded in the bill is a provision which will open up a section of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge to oil drilling.
By embedding a provision that Democrats and moderate Republicans MUST vote down, the Republicans turn an empty gesture into someting much worse: a political charade. Clearly, the Republicans aren't interested in helping you afford to fuel your car. Rather, they are forcing the Democrats to vote down the bill so that the Republicans can say: "Look, the Democrats don't want to give you a rebate."
$100 or gas? That's a lot of hot air.
Love to all. Even you, Senator Santorum.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Let's get ready to haggle!
The last time Maggie and I had a garage sale, we lived in New Brunswick, New Jersey. We weren't married, and we were about to move to Brooklyn, NY. I weighed about 20 pounds less than I do now (I'm not currently overweight), I was playing drums in a band, and my hair was really, really long.
The two things I remember about that garage sale:
- I sold my Toyota Corolla.
- Maggie was driven batty by the haggling moxie of some of the pro-level yard-sale people. This one lady was trying to talk Maggie down from a quarter to a nickel on a colander, and I remember her saying: "NO! IT'S A QUARTER. THAT'S WHAT IT SAYS!"
Next Sunday, we sell.
Love to all.
How not to criticize, aka "Web Loafer" is a retard.
If you're going to write someone because you think they are being mean or insulting, perhaps it's best to try NOT to be mean or insulting when you tell them this.
Here's a comment left on my blog:
Love to all. Even you, "Web Loafer."
Here's a comment left on my blog:
I am on a personal crusade to call out those that use the word retarded in everyday hostile speech. You use the word to put someone down. You probably aren’t half the man my twin brother is.Here's my reply:
My twin brother is retarded, 60 years old and can you think of some other word to show your lack of speakablity. Because you cannot speak without cursing, slandering or hating, I am calling you out.
Enough with the retarded bit,
Buy yourself a dictionary,
(I'm sure you are not ready for the Collegiate Dictionary, but you have to start somewhere)
Try the High School Version.
Don’t eat the covers off of the dictionary, this time use it to learn words that mean something, retarded means something to me, not to you; grow up.
You think that insulting people without using specific words is somehow better?I mean, jeez.
Fuck you, you hypocritical retard.
Love, Rich
Love to all. Even you, "Web Loafer."
Monday, April 24, 2006
The wrong woman.
I admit it. I’m a little flirty.
When I was younger, I would get huge crushes three times a week. I'd see a woman with the right kind of look, smile, voice, speech pattern, curves, etc., and that would be it. I'd be head-over-heels. For about 48 hours.
I've calmed down a little at 37.
I still get crushes. But I can honestly say that in the last year-plus I've only had two. So that's good. And both of those were with/on people that I became actual friends with. So THAT'S good.
This post has nothing to do with those two women.
There's this other woman I have met in AA. I'm not in the least bit attracted to her. To be quite honest, she's frighteningly skinny: like scary, problematically thin, and when I look at her I think "Oh my God, what is she doing to herself?"
But she's nice. She's a smart, outgoing attorney with interesting opinions, and for a while there we were pretty friendly. We never went out for coffee, we never walked together on the street after a meeting... there was no "stepping-up" of the friendship to outside-the-room friends.
About three or four months ago, she started treating my like shit. When I said hello, she would barely sary anything. If I tried to talk to her about running ("Are you running in the Queens Half-Marathon?") she's barely look at me and mumble "no."
Weird shit.
So, yesterday I'm walking to Grand Central from a meeting on Lexington and 36th. I'm thinking about how bad at am at meditating, and how good this woman is. So, spontaneously, I decide to call her and tell her she's the Queen of Meditation, and that I hold her up as an example. I've had her number in my phone for a long time. I was actually going to give it to Maggie a long time ago (and did, actually), and I never erased it. And honestly: I've wanted to ask her what the hell was up.
So I call her, and she's like weird-icy. So I said:
The first thing I thought was: Damn, what a fucking ego! To think that she has to draw lines in the sand when we're not even on the same beach! Then I thought: Oh, wait. This woman has a problem with married guys. Then I called my friend and he said "Dude: Duh. She has a problem with married guys."
So now it's a compliment, I guess. Sort of.
Love to all. Even you, strange lady.
When I was younger, I would get huge crushes three times a week. I'd see a woman with the right kind of look, smile, voice, speech pattern, curves, etc., and that would be it. I'd be head-over-heels. For about 48 hours.
I've calmed down a little at 37.
I still get crushes. But I can honestly say that in the last year-plus I've only had two. So that's good. And both of those were with/on people that I became actual friends with. So THAT'S good.
This post has nothing to do with those two women.
There's this other woman I have met in AA. I'm not in the least bit attracted to her. To be quite honest, she's frighteningly skinny: like scary, problematically thin, and when I look at her I think "Oh my God, what is she doing to herself?"
But she's nice. She's a smart, outgoing attorney with interesting opinions, and for a while there we were pretty friendly. We never went out for coffee, we never walked together on the street after a meeting... there was no "stepping-up" of the friendship to outside-the-room friends.
About three or four months ago, she started treating my like shit. When I said hello, she would barely sary anything. If I tried to talk to her about running ("Are you running in the Queens Half-Marathon?") she's barely look at me and mumble "no."
Weird shit.
So, yesterday I'm walking to Grand Central from a meeting on Lexington and 36th. I'm thinking about how bad at am at meditating, and how good this woman is. So, spontaneously, I decide to call her and tell her she's the Queen of Meditation, and that I hold her up as an example. I've had her number in my phone for a long time. I was actually going to give it to Maggie a long time ago (and did, actually), and I never erased it. And honestly: I've wanted to ask her what the hell was up.
So I call her, and she's like weird-icy. So I said:
Me: "Dude, are we cool?"Click. Then I erased her number.
Her: "Yeah, we're cool."
Me: "Have I done something to piss you off?"
Her: "No, you're a married guy, I'm a single girl, so I'm trying to set healthy boundaries."
Me: "Oh. Um... well, that's good."
Her: "Rich, whatever validation you are looking for for me, you've got it."
Me: "Huh? No. I wasn't looking for validation, dude. I was trying to see if I had been a dick to you and didn't know it."
Her: "No."
Me: "Great. I'll be sure not to bug you again."
Her: "It's not bugging."
Me: "Okay. Um. See you tomorrow!"
The first thing I thought was: Damn, what a fucking ego! To think that she has to draw lines in the sand when we're not even on the same beach! Then I thought: Oh, wait. This woman has a problem with married guys. Then I called my friend and he said "Dude: Duh. She has a problem with married guys."
So now it's a compliment, I guess. Sort of.
Love to all. Even you, strange lady.
I’m down with ADD.
(Yeah you know me.)
After 37 years, someone who is not my friend asked me “Have you ever been tested for ADD?” A LOT of my friends have asked me that. But never a professional. Weird.
I said: “No.”
My therapist said: “Well, let’s.”
Now, this dude isn’t a prescriber, so I’m only going to him for a talking cure. But he works with a nice psychiatrist who’s going to test me for ADD. I don’t know how it’s doing to to turn out, but wouldn’t it be hilarious if I was placed on Ritalin at age 37.
Speaking of ADD: I work better when I’m distracted. I work fabulously on the train. Sometimes I think I should ride the train all day long and work wirelessly. I’d be the king of productivity.
Oh. Something is pissing me off, so I’m going to say it here. After therapy today, I briefly stopped by the house before going to the train station. Maggie asked me how things went. I told her about the ADD appointment. She was like:
Anyway: the reason this got me mad was because I’m not allowed to ask Maggie anything about certain aspects of her personal life. It’s “none of my business.” Fine. But I don’t understand why she’s so interested in this, then.
Of course, the fact I’ve been sent to therapy for stupid reasons since I was four, and got in trouble if I didn’t tell EVERY DETAIL to my parents... and how if the therapist said “You’re parents are a little off” they would wind up in a legal battle with the therapist… well.. maybe I’m a little sensitive about being asked these things.
Love to all. Even you, the dude with the strange grin.
After 37 years, someone who is not my friend asked me “Have you ever been tested for ADD?” A LOT of my friends have asked me that. But never a professional. Weird.
I said: “No.”
My therapist said: “Well, let’s.”
Now, this dude isn’t a prescriber, so I’m only going to him for a talking cure. But he works with a nice psychiatrist who’s going to test me for ADD. I don’t know how it’s doing to to turn out, but wouldn’t it be hilarious if I was placed on Ritalin at age 37.
Speaking of ADD: I work better when I’m distracted. I work fabulously on the train. Sometimes I think I should ride the train all day long and work wirelessly. I’d be the king of productivity.
Oh. Something is pissing me off, so I’m going to say it here. After therapy today, I briefly stopped by the house before going to the train station. Maggie asked me how things went. I told her about the ADD appointment. She was like:
"But what about the depression?"Actually this isn't totally true. "How not to be a dick" is the second topic. "How to deal with the fact that your psychotic father and mother threw away all your shit and moved to California without telling you - after they had a year-long psycho freakout" is number one.
Me: "I’m not sure I’m depressed. How do you think it expresses itself."
Maggie: "Irritiability, short-temperedness."
Me: "In that case, your cool. Our number one topic is 'How not to be a dick at home.'”
Maggie: "Oh, good."
Anyway: the reason this got me mad was because I’m not allowed to ask Maggie anything about certain aspects of her personal life. It’s “none of my business.” Fine. But I don’t understand why she’s so interested in this, then.
Of course, the fact I’ve been sent to therapy for stupid reasons since I was four, and got in trouble if I didn’t tell EVERY DETAIL to my parents... and how if the therapist said “You’re parents are a little off” they would wind up in a legal battle with the therapist… well.. maybe I’m a little sensitive about being asked these things.
Love to all. Even you, the dude with the strange grin.
Honest Greed: Verizon Wireless.
I've always been told that Verizon cripples their phones. Now I know it for a fact.
I was interested in a Treo 650, because it could be used as a dial-up modem with my Mac, I could take notes on it, and it has all kinds of zippy little features that I liked. I went to the Verizon store to buy it, using my "new every two" discount.
Being a freak, I always confirm things that I'm pretty sure about anyway, so I asked if the phone could do all the things it was supposed to do. Specifically, I wanted to know if I could use the Treo 650 on the 1xRTT dial-up network (which only uses minutes, so it rocks). The lady said "No, if you want to do data, you have to use our special data plan, which starts at $30/month."
I said "No thanks," and left.
Did some research, found out Verizon crippled the phones. There are patches available to restore the phone to it's original capabilities, but they make me nervous.
So I went into another Verizon store and said "Dude, can I buy a 650 and just set you all up with it's ESN?" He said "Maybe, but only if it's CMDA." Then it gave me a number to call to be sure.
So I said "Hey... why do you guys cripple the bluetooth phones?"
He looked at me, smiled, and made that little "money" gesture by rubbing his thumb and two fingers together. "Sorry, man. They just want you to use the expensive stuff." It was a drag to hear... but it was nice that he was so honest about his company's greed.
So now I'm stuck with this V710, which is slowly dying. Hmm.
Love to all. Even you, Verizon.
I was interested in a Treo 650, because it could be used as a dial-up modem with my Mac, I could take notes on it, and it has all kinds of zippy little features that I liked. I went to the Verizon store to buy it, using my "new every two" discount.
Being a freak, I always confirm things that I'm pretty sure about anyway, so I asked if the phone could do all the things it was supposed to do. Specifically, I wanted to know if I could use the Treo 650 on the 1xRTT dial-up network (which only uses minutes, so it rocks). The lady said "No, if you want to do data, you have to use our special data plan, which starts at $30/month."
I said "No thanks," and left.
Did some research, found out Verizon crippled the phones. There are patches available to restore the phone to it's original capabilities, but they make me nervous.
So I went into another Verizon store and said "Dude, can I buy a 650 and just set you all up with it's ESN?" He said "Maybe, but only if it's CMDA." Then it gave me a number to call to be sure.
So I said "Hey... why do you guys cripple the bluetooth phones?"
He looked at me, smiled, and made that little "money" gesture by rubbing his thumb and two fingers together. "Sorry, man. They just want you to use the expensive stuff." It was a drag to hear... but it was nice that he was so honest about his company's greed.
So now I'm stuck with this V710, which is slowly dying. Hmm.
Love to all. Even you, Verizon.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Once again: "Before"
Once again, I'm going to try and organize my little Mad Scientist corner of the house. So once again, this is the "before" shot. Last time I tried this, the "after" shot was significantly messier. Urg.This might also be a good time to say that Rich | Championable is powered by:
- PowerMac G5 dual 2.3 Ghz desktop
- Dell 2405FPW 24" LCD Minitor
- Roland Studio Drums with a TD-8 Brain
- MacBook Pro 2 Ghz Core Duo laptop
- PowerShot G6 camera
- Epson Stylus 2200 Archival Printer
- Midiman Radium 66-key midi Keyboard
- Personus Firewire Audio Inputs
Friday, April 21, 2006
Anything is nothing. Always is never.
If you want to have a dialog, you've got to get specific.
A good percentage of the political blogosphere can by the following:
So, what I'm asking is: the next time you comment on a political issue, get specific. Open a dialog. Don't respond to "The resignation of Scott McCllellan is a smokescreen" with "Liberals all hate everything Bush does." Do say: "Actually, the resignation of Scott McClellan isn't a smokescreen because he had the following role in policy..."
Don't say: "God hates fags." Say "Science has proven that being raised by gay parents causes children to spontaneously combust." (Although you should probably cite your references on that one.)
For my part, I will try not to call Bush a "self-promoting, isolationist, thieving, lying, contracts-for-friends" booger-head anymore.
Promise.
Love to all. Even you, skunk.
A good percentage of the political blogosphere can by the following:
Conservative Blogger: Liberals always attack Bush no matter what.And on and on. It's useless and stupid, except for the benefit it provides individual posters in terms of venting. I guess it's good for venting. Lord knows, I've been guilty of that... but even when I vent, it's about something specific. I think. Anyway.
Commenter 1: Yeah! Stupid Liberals!
Commenter 2: You right-wing assholes are all insane.
Commenter 3: Hey, C2, go fuck a rabbit, tree-hugger! Ha!
So, what I'm asking is: the next time you comment on a political issue, get specific. Open a dialog. Don't respond to "The resignation of Scott McCllellan is a smokescreen" with "Liberals all hate everything Bush does." Do say: "Actually, the resignation of Scott McClellan isn't a smokescreen because he had the following role in policy..."
Don't say: "God hates fags." Say "Science has proven that being raised by gay parents causes children to spontaneously combust." (Although you should probably cite your references on that one.)
For my part, I will try not to call Bush a "self-promoting, isolationist, thieving, lying, contracts-for-friends" booger-head anymore.
Promise.
Love to all. Even you, skunk.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Meow. Meow. And Meow?
I've been sick for the last two days. I'm on Zithromax, and I feel like I'm getting over my latest round of URI craziness. Better than UTI, I guess. Ick.
So: I come home from work early to rest up for today (I'm the only one in my office today, due to a confluence of Jewish holidays and college classes), and the kids say "Daddy, we have a surprise for you in the TV room."
I'm thinking: Maggie bought a piece of electronics?
Ha ha. No.
Astrid is a very good looking, friendly, 4-month-old kitten who was dropped off at the local shelter when the people who originally had her moved overseas. (Gotta be honest, though, that story strikes me as somewhat bullshitty. Bullshitty? Is that a word?)
She's adventurous, not at all scared of the dogs, and doesn't seem to mind that one of the other cats appears to be stalking her. She wheezes a bit, and we don't know why. We do know it's not from any horribly contagious kitty diseases, though: she's been checked.
For those of you keeping count, that's a total of 10 animals in my house: 5 humans, 2 dogs, and 3 cats. Gender-wise we've got 7 girls, 3 boys. Oh, lord. The ratio has tipped past 2:1.
Pictures, of course, are forthcoming.
Love to all. Even you, the losers on NYC 92.3 fm who bleeped the word "pussy" off the air, even though it referred to a cat.
So: I come home from work early to rest up for today (I'm the only one in my office today, due to a confluence of Jewish holidays and college classes), and the kids say "Daddy, we have a surprise for you in the TV room."
I'm thinking: Maggie bought a piece of electronics?
Ha ha. No.
Astrid is a very good looking, friendly, 4-month-old kitten who was dropped off at the local shelter when the people who originally had her moved overseas. (Gotta be honest, though, that story strikes me as somewhat bullshitty. Bullshitty? Is that a word?)
She's adventurous, not at all scared of the dogs, and doesn't seem to mind that one of the other cats appears to be stalking her. She wheezes a bit, and we don't know why. We do know it's not from any horribly contagious kitty diseases, though: she's been checked.
For those of you keeping count, that's a total of 10 animals in my house: 5 humans, 2 dogs, and 3 cats. Gender-wise we've got 7 girls, 3 boys. Oh, lord. The ratio has tipped past 2:1.
Pictures, of course, are forthcoming.
Love to all. Even you, the losers on NYC 92.3 fm who bleeped the word "pussy" off the air, even though it referred to a cat.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
President Bush hopes you're retarded.
After all the shit that Bush and the people who run him have done, the man "shakes up" his administration by announcing the resignation of his Press Secretary. Oh, and and "a senior administration official" told CNN that "Bush confidant Karl Rove will no longer oversee policy development."
I see. So Karl will still be working there, but he just won't oversee policy. He'll be playing Gamecube and such. Lots of Super Monkey Ball for Mr. Rove.
Damn. Damn. The Bush Administration clearly thinks that we're a bunch of fucking idiots... that we won't notice that, um, Rumsfeld is still in office, and so is Karl Rove. But since Scott McClellan quit, some real reform must be under way. Right? Right?
Wrong.
Reform? That's impossible with this bunch, anyway. The only way we're going to change the self-promoting, isolationist, thieving, lying, contracts-for-friends doctrine of the current administration is to vote them out of fucking office.
Do I sound pissed? I am. I have never, ever in my life scene a group of American leaders act with such arrogance. It's disgusting. I'm so mad, I haven't taken any of the easy shots at Bush's ultra-inane "I am the decider" statement. The dude is such a schmuck, it's not even fun to make fun of him.
Are we as stupid as Bush and the people who run his administration think we are? I hope not. I guess we'll find out after the next election.
Love to all. Even you, Don.
I see. So Karl will still be working there, but he just won't oversee policy. He'll be playing Gamecube and such. Lots of Super Monkey Ball for Mr. Rove.
Damn. Damn. The Bush Administration clearly thinks that we're a bunch of fucking idiots... that we won't notice that, um, Rumsfeld is still in office, and so is Karl Rove. But since Scott McClellan quit, some real reform must be under way. Right? Right?
Wrong.
Reform? That's impossible with this bunch, anyway. The only way we're going to change the self-promoting, isolationist, thieving, lying, contracts-for-friends doctrine of the current administration is to vote them out of fucking office.
Do I sound pissed? I am. I have never, ever in my life scene a group of American leaders act with such arrogance. It's disgusting. I'm so mad, I haven't taken any of the easy shots at Bush's ultra-inane "I am the decider" statement. The dude is such a schmuck, it's not even fun to make fun of him.
Are we as stupid as Bush and the people who run his administration think we are? I hope not. I guess we'll find out after the next election.
Love to all. Even you, Don.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Things I'm digging, presently.
- The way Mimi (the dog) flops down beside me when I’m on the floor.
- Universal binaries.
- Playing catch with my two oldest kids.
- This thing Maggie does when she holds the back of my head when we’re kissing.
- “Show Your Bones” by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
Love to all. Even you, the lady on the train to Westchester who sighed BIG.
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