I inch closer to death. Buy me things.
I’m forcing myself to post something here without the assistance of hilarious videos from decades past. Unfortunately, my outrage gland has done shriveled and died. So while politicians continue to be dumb and self-serving, there are only so many ways I can say that, and I’m saving them for the cartoon. (When I’m not drawing boobs on fish.)
So what’s new with you guys? How are the kids? I don’t really care. You should buy things from the Big Fat Whale store instead of telling me about your life. I would then spend your money on various adventures, and delving into my one true passion, thrift store art collecting.
Until you cheapos pay up, you might be able to entertain yourself at this website I wasted too much time putting together. I’m sure more energetic individuals will tell you all about it tomorrow.
If I had any balls, I would’ve done this months ago instead of waiting until everyone but neocon assholes agreed Iraq is in the midst of civil war. But alas, I am ball-less.
Rumsfeld’s baseball metaphor would be equally ridiculous if he was talking about the Red Sox. Christ, this is the worst baseball season for Boston since Joe Kerrigan piloted the good ship Fuck Up a couple years ago.
On a more fun note, here’s a SpaghettiOs commercial in case the last panel confuses you:
NBC gave 10 Minutes at the front of tonight’s news to cover the Jon Benet “news.” Some flipping around showed similar results on the other broadcasts. Today’s district court ruling about the President breaking the law got 30 seconds.
Jon Benet shouldn’t have been news ten years ago, and certainly not now. The Lindbergh Baby was way cuter.
I have absolutely nothing to write about this week. I’ve been watching Buster Keaton movies for the past couple of weeks instead of having opinions. Here are some other comics you can read to fill the pontificating void:
That’s all for now. Sorry if I left anyone out. I’m lazy, or it could be that I hate you.
UPDATE: Here’s something else for you to look at. It’s an illustration from a ventriloquism book I was poking through last night.
I have nothing against people with moderate opinions. My beef is with the centrism snobs, who somehow feel morally superior by wallowing in the shit between the sides on every single issue. Obviously every issue isn’t black and white; I’m not a naive 14-year-old girl. But not every issue has a cushy gray area either.
Iraq is an excellent example. The gray area between invading a country based on shitty intelligence and not invading doesn’t exist. It’s the same as invading a country, but with a bunch of bullshit excuses.
Tom Friedman’s recent change of heart on Iraq shouldn’t be news. He was wrong, willfully so, in the run-up to war. And for that, he deserves to be kicked off of the tropical island of relevancy.
Next Week: I get classy.
There are a few MIT students and alumni who read this. One of you must be familiar with the Wellesley-MIT Shuttle, or as it is colloquially known, The Fuck Truck. Is it an actual bus, or more like an airport shuttle? Help me readers, you’re my only hope! I need to know by tonight.