Friday, March 04, 2005

DCeptette: I taught your dog how to do the claw version.

  1. Every once in a while, you hear of a story--a "story of hope". And you think, "Yeah. I like me some hope." And you read it, and it actually is a odd-tasting vichysoisse of mixed messages and uncomfortable twitching. Today, that story is in your Washington Post, courtesy of Leef Smith. Okay. First, you're glad that a dude with some bad cancer has found a way to pay for treatment. But then, you're like--it's a fucking shame that Americans just refuse to do what's necessary to care for each other. Then you get frustrated, because this is what "ownership society" get sick or hurt or jammed up or something breaks, from now on, you better own some shit that someone wants to buy, or else it's the fucking ice floe for you. Then your stomach turns into a pasty knot, because what this guy owns he wouldn't own if some terrorists hadn't come and blown some shit up. Damn. That is some awkward shit to be telling to the Washington Post. Al Qaeda cured my cancer. Damn. the eject button. (Post)
  2. Hey Craigslister, did you ever think that maybe that dude was crying from joy at the awesome savings that can be had at the Eastern Market CVS? That's convenience, value, AND service! (Craigslist)
  3. Dude. I have to tip my hat to the Republicans. You motherfuckers are straight gangsta. When someone close to you dangles himself out in front of the press, or gets caught with his hand in the till, or his pants down, we Democrats try to offer up perspective and shit, attest to man's perfectability, beseech fo second chances, press for understanding and judiciousness. You cats in the GOP just go to freezer. Like when Ahmed Chalabi turned out to be playing us for fools on top of spoonfeeding us handpicked misinfo about Iraq--it didn't matter that Chalabi was all about making Dubya wanna la-la. Forget the fact that Chalabi hung in the oval. Forget the fact that he was seated behind Laura at the SOTU. Forget that on that cold night, when Ahmed Chalabi and Bush were staying at that cheap hotel because their care had broken down and it was freezing cold because the heater was broken that Ahmed was kind enough to say, "George, take your them between my buttcheeks for warmth. If you then spoon with me, I can be warm myself." Forget those times. Because when Chalabi got caught in the kliegs being a bad boy, no one in the Republican party hemmed or hawed--they just frosted him. Cut him off. Pretended like they never knew him. That is some Cosa Nostra shit right there. Damn, son. Strap on your Foreigner belt and dial up some "Cold as Ice!" And I see that everyone in the GOP mod squad gets the same training, because now Ehrlich is doing the same thing to his former buddy Steffens. Ehrlich's CD said, "This was an irrelevant guy. He was irrelevant to our world." You know when Steffens heard that, he wanted to just stand there and bleed. You guys are fucking cruel. I kind of like that. (Post)
  4. Loudon County. Oh, Loudon County. Enjoy the sprawl. Seriously. All those huge-ass Toll Brothers houses, built on the cheap, sitting on tiny ass lots so that everyone's right on top of each other. It's like apartment living for people who want to spend their weekends doing chores and spending a fortune on shit my super just fixes at my beck and call. Suburban life is getting so lame that it's no wonder these people have to lock themselves into their panic rooms with the lights off in order to make their dicks hard. (Post)
  5. DCist has today fulfilled an important part of its destiny, as designed by the Architect of the Matrix. It has given you 720 hours of advance notice that the most confused people on Earth are coming to Washington. Prepare your cutting remarks, plan alternative subway routes, and let loose the beavers. Fly, beavers, fly! (DCist)

No comments: