I don’t think I need to say anything here. Two pictures are worth two-thousand words.
Monthly Archives: March 2010
I mentioned Max Baucus a little while back here. But wait, there’s more!
Money quote from Are We Lumberjacks:
…You probably remember the YouTube video that started the rumors of drunkenness last December. At that time the Senator’s office denied guilt and characterized the video as an “untrue personal smear”. Me, I took the denial with a grain of salt. But Baucus took it with a dash of salt, a slice of lime, and a shot of tequila, and with a dash of salt, a slice of lime, and a shot of tequila, and with a dash of salt, a slice of lime, and a shot of tequila…
I wish I was a MT resident. Then I would get in-state tuition and I would be able to vote him out! Double whammy!
This is engineering at it’s finest! And the last line pretty well sums up everything.
Read all about the turboencabulator at (where else?) Wikipedia.
“Pomplamoose are an American indie music and indie jazz duo consisting of multi-instrumentalists Jack Conte and Nataly Dawn. The band was formed in the summer of 2008. The name of the band derives from the French word pamplemousse, meaning grapefruit.”
Thanks to Alan
We’re supposed to go to church early today, but my room mate went moonlight skiing last night. I am now blasting away:
I warned him what would happen.
Today: People rejoiced as Jesus came to town.
This Friday: People taunted and rejected Jesus as he was tried, convicted and murdered.
Man, humans can be dumb and mean.
“Yum. Ack!” *heart attack!* “An explosion in my chest!”
The world premier of my cartooning ability! Something said in the latest Vicious Circle (yes, I listen to them) piqued my imagination, and I made a simple drawing to explain our situation. Alan and Jay G pointed out that this health care monstrosity is only the latest in a long train of abuses and usurpations–this wall of bull has been built so slowly that people got used to the smell.
It remains to be seen if we are content to be safely behind the wall, no matter how cramped and disgusting it is, or if we the people are tired of being walled in and will do the distasteful act of climbing over–even if bears and wolves might live in the mountains on the other side.
Let’s see what happens.
A man was being tailgated by a stressed-out woman on a busy boulevard. Suddenly, the light turned yellow, just in front of him. He did the right thing, stopping at the crosswalk, even though he could have beaten the red light by accelerating through the intersection.
The tailgating woman was furious and honked her horn, screaming in frustration, as she missed her chance to get through the intersection, dropping her cell phone and makeup.
As she was still in mid-rant, she heard a tap on her window and looked up into the face of a very serious police officer. The officer ordered her to exit her car with her hands up. He took her to the police station where she was searched, fingerprinted, photographed, and placed in a holding cell. After a couple of hours, a policeman approached the cell and opened the door. She was escorted back to the booking desk where the arresting officer was waiting with her personal effects.
He said, “I’m very sorry for this mistake. You see, I pulled up behind your car while you were blowing your horn, flipping off the guy in front of you, and cussing a blue streak at him….. I noticed the ‘What Would Jesus Do’ bumper sticker, the ‘Choose Life’ license plate holder, the ‘Follow Me to Sunday-School’ bumper sticker, and the chrome-plated Christian fish emblem on the trunk; naturally…I assumed you had stolen the car.”
From an email going around.
Because when I get up in the morning, people on the east coast (poor saps) have already put up several posts, then it rolls across the country, and in the evening the westerners (though a lot of them seem to be Arizonans) put up one last post before bed, right when I am winding down for the night. There doesn’t seem to be much in the way of bloggers who interest me on the west coast, so it doesn’t matter that they are another hour off in the other direction.
It’s too bad there are only 24 hours a day.
What do trumpeters and pirates have in common?
They both do murder on the High C’s.
Say it with a pirate accent–it’s better that way!