To Sleep, Perchance To Suddenly Stop Breathing And Die, Gurgling On Your Own Hot Snot

So, yesterday night, I did a "sleep study" at the Arlington Hospital. What does all that mean? Well, if you were "studying" this topic: Can the DCeiver sleep, at all, with thirty wires and electrodes glued to his body, which pop off everytime I change position, on a stiff bed, with no wife or kitty cats? The answer is no. NO FURTHER STUDY NECESSARY. STUDY IS COMPLETE. Did you answer "NO" on the final exam? Congratuations, you graduate, pop Cristal.

As I told my friend Tracy S., I did the study because I (or actually wife of DCeiver, who hears me at night) was worried that I might have sleep apnea. So I went to Arlington Hospital WHERE THERE IS NO WIRELESS INTERNET and got studded up with electrodes and wires, and they were like, OKAY SLEEP LIKE NORMAL. Which was impossible, because wires kept coming off during the night and they guy would come in and redo them. It was like work. Everytime I woke up I looked at my cell phone for the time because I just wanted it to end. It finally did at about 5:30am.

My lab tech was awesome. He was a brooding Satanist who was sad that Michael Jackson's life force had been extinguished and that the world was a sorrier place for the absence of his talent. At length, he explained how there would be no black metal without MJ, so, if I ever find myself in some sort of doctorate-level cultural studies program being taught by Sasha Frere-Jones, I have my dissertation all ready to go.

Anyway, I don't know yet if I have sleep apnea and need one of those masks, yet. Hopefully not. I'm not worried, though, Andrew Sullivan makes those masks look like sex on cinnamon toast.

In Related News, Vinny Cerrato Is Still An Ass-Pump

Blogging About Not Blogging Is The New Blogging About Blogging

Hello. Yes. We at The DCeiver are back to once again break new ground in apologizing for not blogging on a blog that no one but spam bots read, apparently. So, there you go. Attention will be paid in coming days to put content here. NOT GOOD CONTENT, MIND YOU! But something. Think of this as a Tumblr without "tumbularity" or whatever they call it.

Anyway, it's not like you can't read me elsewhere, like many others. Here is Eat The Press, to bookmark. Or you can RSS the everloving shit out of me, here. You can follow me on Twitter and stuff. I do Crappy Hour on Jezebel with Megan Carpentier every Wednesday morning. And me and Ana Marie Cox make fun of the White House Flickr Feed from time to time on The Awl, who have a lot of great writers if you don't like Ana Marie and I making dick jokes about our President.

And yeah, whatever happens here happens. Don't force it, baby. Let it come.

Dana Milbank To Whisper At The Dicks Of Hundreds Of Lobbyists, At Katherine Weymouth's House, For $$$!!!

You know, whenever I try to point out how, in Washington, DC, the line between "edit meeting" and "cocktail party" has become blurred to the point of ridiculousness, there's never a shortage of people who'll line up and tell me how cynical I am. But from time to time, I get to issue a big fat, "Suck it!" and one of those days is today! YAY FOR ME!

Serenity Now

One day, Americans will get to the point where they stop, dead in their tracks, and with a single voice ask one question: "What would happen if the staff of Reason magazine suddenly became cowboy grifters who speak Pidgin Chinese and fly around the universe in busted up spaceships?" Then, at long last, Firefly will get the recognition it deserves.

What My Wife And I Argued About Tonight

DCeiver: You know what I don't understand?

Wife of DCeiver: What?

DCeiver: Sting.

Wife of DCeiver: Sting?

DCeiver: Sting. The sword Frodo uses in the Lord Of The Rings. It's dumb.

Wife of DCeiver: It's not dumb.

DCeiver: It's dumb.

Wife of DCeiver: Why is it dumb.

DCeiver: Think about it. It GLOWS when orcs are near.

Wife of DCeiver: That's not dumb, that's useful.

DCeiver: That's not useful, it's lethal.

Wife of DCeiver: It warns you if orcs are near.

DCeiver: No. It's dark. You have Sting out. It glows. Orcs are also in the dark. They see Sting glowing. They come and kill you.

Wife of DCeiver: What if it's not dark.

DCeiver: It still glows! It glows. Motherfuckers see it glow. Orcs come, they kill you.

Wife of DCeiver: You can put the sword in its sheath, nobody sees it.

DCeiver: Great, then, orcs find you some other way, your dumbass sword is SHEATHED, they kill you because your sword isn't out. Your sword isn't out, because it fucking glows.

Wife of DCeiver: Well, when it glows, you can say, "Woah, better get out of here."

DCeiver: Then it shouldn't be a weapon.

Wife of DCeiver: What?

DCeiver: It shouldn't be a sword! If the swords most useful function is to tell you when to run away, it's not much of a sword. It's like, a sword that totally pussies out of fighting orcs.

Wife of DCeiver: Dude, talk to the elves.

Also, why are indestructible ring-wraiths afraid of fire? Never made any sense to me.

Great Moments In Oratory

Years from now, surely Mark Sanford's "Oration on the Vicissitudes of Having a Mistress in Latin America That You Go to See Every Once in a While, and Then There's That Time Everyone Finds Out About It, Hoo Boy, What A Mess, Sorry Tom Davis," will be as studied a piece of public speaking as Cicero's speeches against Catiline.

I'll Show You My Fanny

Yeah, been a while. Sorry.

We Got It Right.

Symbology.

Also: The Kansas clinic closing means the loss of an abortion clinic. But, yeah, it's tough to lose a great symbol like that.

An Important Consideration

I still think it's worth reminding people that the same people who continually deny the District the rights of representation are the same people who continually insist that District residents arm themselves to the teeth. So, as oppressors go, these are people who won't be going down in history as being particularly intelligent.

Mais le dernier mot est-il dit? L’espérance doit-elle disparaître? La défaite est-elle définitive? Non!*

So, today was sad news for voting rights advocates in the District of Columbia, as the DC Voting Rights Act is, for the time being, dead or comatose. Steny Hoyer said that it was a "blot on our democracy," but that GOVERNMENTING IS HARD and WAAAAH. Here's a run down of various people saying that the fight will go on and it's disappointing and some high-faluting shit from Kwame Brown.

Whatever. I think that the era of being nice about this shit needs to end. DC, isn't it time that the city started doling out some goddamn consequences to the motherless shitstains that keep blocking your representation? I think this cause has come just about as far as it can with everyone being genial and hopeful. I think we need DCist to run down a list of all the DC Vote obstructionists and start revoking some DC privileges wholesale. Name names, start handing out photo arrays and start making life problematic for these people who, for the forseeable future, have to try to make a go of it here, for their vaunted career in politics.

The people who have worked to undermine this vote need to basically be met at the District line with a clear message - YOUR ASS IS SHUT DOWN. Restaurants need to refuse to serve these bitches. Cab drivers need to pass them by. Ticket their cars, refuse to serve them, wait on them, do business with them, assist them, and serve them in any capacity. And residents should shower these errant Congresscritters with scorn, and/or feces.

Anyway, this would at least make for an entertaining summer. So go take out your frustrations on the Pétainist scum, Washington, and get the representation you deserve.

*Technically, I'm eight days early.

Boehnanza

Hmmm. I don't know. Seems like they've pretty much decided on "cowboy."

Meet You In The Breadline, Comrades!

Via Andrew Sullivan, here's a look at the socialism that Sarah Palin has been warning you about, because she can see it from her porch or some shit:

Yeah, so, it goes like this. First, they came for $82.3 billion, and I said nothing, because FUCK DUDE, we still had $39.2 trillion, and yeah, I was like, "WOO, POP SOME CRISTAL UP IN THIS PIECE!" and anyway, did you know we are using some of that money to make another Final Destination sequel? It's TRUE, we are, and yeah, I'D LOVE TO SEE CAPITALISM EXPLAIN THAT.

Tool.

Gah. This guy. I was sort of wondering what Dana Milbank was doing now that Jonathan Weisman wasn't around to fight his battles for him. Turns out he's just straight up walkin' around with another man's underpants on his head and telling media bloggers about it, because this is what grown-ass men with gravitas do now, because of the recession.

The lesson learned at WaPo editorial cartoonist Tom Toles' summer party this weekend was definitely- if Dana Milbank is invited to a party at your house, make sure your wardrobe's locked and your laundry's hidden.

The Post's "wiseguy," as described in Yeas & Nays ran around the house with a pair of Toles' very own tighty-whities over his jeans and even waved a pair over his head on the dance floor.

Even funnier- Toles says this isn't the first time his underwear drawers' were raided by Milbank. Last year, he apparently stole every single pair of his drawers and decorated Toles' office with them.

Back when I was at VCU, there was a guy in our department who stole peoples' underwear. The police were called. They literally found hundreds of pairs of underwear in his dorm room. Friends of mine actually had to go and identify their stolen underwear. SORT OF CATCHING THE SAME VIBE.

Anyway, this is your regularly updated guide to Dana Milbank's coping mechanisms. And now, here's a video, from Our Friend Liz Glover, that will never get old, ever.

I Feel Alive For The First Time, Each Sip Hits My Lip Like A Landmine

Excuse me, Will Leitch, am I to understand that Rick Ankiel has made a red wine?

Your DCeiver Guide To Tomorrow's Democratic Primary

What up, Virginia. Let me break it down for you. If you love me at all, you will not allow this rum-soaked, giggly-ass, shit for brains win tomorrow's gubernatorial primary. Do we understand each other? And Arlington, let's put a lid on this Laura Sessions Stepp-loving cheese puff Miles Grant, as well. KTHXBAI.

Megan Carpentier's Legs Are Likely To Be Tired

In the dream I had last Friday night, there was a moment when I called Megan Carpentier on my cell phone because I had to make an inquiry, "Megan, I'm in your apartment, and I need to know where you keep your extra clip."

Yes. My subconscious believes that Megan owns a Sig-Sauer P220 Super Match. I don't remember much more of the dream, but I'm guessing it was pretty exciting.

Brief Afterthought On That Last Post About The Karate Chopping Racist Nutbag Marcus Epstein

Whilst looking at George Allen's wikipedia entry, I happened to notice this factoid:

Allen graduated in 1970 from Palos Verdes High School, where he was a member of the falconry club and the car club. He was also quarterback of the varsity football team.

It's worth mentioning, that as bad as it is for racists to be walking around the streets of DC karate chopping people, just imagine how much more fucked up it would be if they were coming at you with some goddamned trained falcons. Seriously! That would be some shit, right there.