The Giant Black Hole of Batshit Insanity: Palin + Bachmann

Out of the mists of dawn, a caravan of tractor trailers descend on Nashville, Tennessee…
230,000 screaming watts of power, flashpots, lasers…
Get ready. They’re COMING!
B. Bachmann.
Tee. Baggers.
OVERDRIVE!
B-b-b-b-baby, you just ain’t seen nothin’ yet!

Hold on to your hats, kids. February brings you the biggest gathering of freaks and malcontents since the last Gathering of the Juggalos.
Think, “More crazy, fewer clowns!” Well, fewer clown FACES, more clowns.
Michelle Bachmann and Sarah Palin, together, at the first National Teabagger Convention.
Real Americans. Patriots and paranoia. A wink with every lie – It’ll look like a gathering of folks with facial tics!
The two nuttiest, dumbest, most vacant, ill-informed, yammering, stupid, vapid, ignorant, brainless blithering idiots in American politics together at last.
Inbred batshit insanity featuring the comedic stylings of Dane Cook, Carlos Mencia and Gallagher!
Special autograph sessions with Erik Estrada, Tammy Faye Baker and The Knack!
Win a trip to hike the Appalachian Trail with Mark Sanford!
Caribou lasagna and handguns for the kids!
Special appearances by Sean Hannity, Glenn Beck and a not white person, Michelle Malkin!

(Disclaimer: Use as directed. Side effects may include brain bleeding, face stabbing, anal leakage, yammering incomprehensibility, rejection of science and reason, conjoined twin dysplasia, You Betcha, violent winking and a powerful desire to Drill, Baby, Drill.)

Talking to Americans

Off the back of Sarah Palin opening her blithering yap to demonstrate once again that there’s two lonely brain cells bouncing around inside her skull, both of which are convinced they’re alone, I thought it might be fun to post Marg Delahunty’s old partner in comedy, Rick Mercer, demonstrating why no thinking person ought to listen to anything that tumbles out of the mind of Americans.
Here, proof positive that ignorance and certainty are NOT mutually exclusive, but commonly conjoined south of the big lake they call Gitchee Gumee.

And, as for Sarah Palin…here’s hoping that, at some point before entropy claims her pathetic carcass, the stunning depth of her ignorance dawns on her – the full realization of how utterly incompetent, uneducated, provincial, backward, stunned, brainless and shallow every single thought she ever had really was.

Palin Advises CANADA on Health Care

Mary Walsh, in character as Warrior Princess Marg Delahunty, took the This Hour Has 22 Minutes news cameras to a Sarah Palin book signing.
Poor Palin, clueless at the best of times, had no idea she was facing one of the most clever comedic minds in North America.
Mary/Marg:

“We told her we’re from Canada, and we’re just looking for a few words of encouragement for the Canadian conservatives who have worked so tirelessly to destroy the socialized medicare that we have”…
“Four huge big burly guys started pushing, and I pushed back, but I got her attention, and she told us to keep the faith, something like that, and said we’re all trying for the same thing.”

After being kicked out of the book-signing, Walsh and her crew then waited outside at a loading dock close to where Palin’s bus was parked. When Palin emerged from the Borders bookstore, Walsh said, Delahunty – dressed in a more toned-down version of her trademark warrior princess costume – called out to her.

“Hey, remember us, we’re the Canadians! We came all the way here from Canada!” Delahunty yelled. “When we asked you that question, we didn’t hear your answer.”

Palin strolled over, looking down on Walsh and her crew to tell them that “Canada needs to dismantle its public health-care system and allow private enterprise to get involved and turn a profit.“

“Basically, she said government should stop doing the work that private enterprise should do,” Walsh said.

WTF? Speaking from total ignorance is nothing new for Caribou Barbie, the dumbest fuckwit to come down the pike since ever, but to stick her vapid, empty yammering into Canadian health care, as if she knows the first fucking thing about it…I mean, jumped up Jesus on skis! Does she realize that Canadians are HAPPY with their system?
Canadians DO NOT WANT private health care…any politician who tried to dismantle single-payer north of the 49th would be run out of the country on a rail!
I knew she was stupid, but this is a whole other level of jamming her “you betcha” ALL the way up her wink.
I think I speak for all Canadians when I quote our late, great Prime Minister Pierre Elliot Trudeau: “Fuddle duddle!“
Although, in this case, I believe Pierre would have gone a little further and said something along the lines of, “Fuddle duddle, you stupid, ignorant, backwards, brainless yammering hick bitch!”

Fuddle duddle, bitch!

The View From My Window

All chuffed about the new digs. Sleeping in fresh mountain air instead of the grimy city exhaust; waking to bird song instead of blue trucks, firecrackers and calliope Fur Elise; friendly neighborhood dogs instead of three-legged, paranoid street mutts.
This is my view from the kitchen and my office, where I am sitting now:

The tennis court could use a coat of paint, but my days of pretending to be McEnroe are long past anyway.

Irish Accents

The only accent that can wear the adjective “Lilt”…a truly beautiful thing, and yet the absolute fucking eviscerating death of every actor who’s ever tried to fake it.

Let’s begin with the obvious – Tom Cruise in Far and Away. Fucking embarrassing, even if (as I do) you think Cruise is the most talentless bit of cardboard to come along since Rock Hudson…and the comparison likely doesn’t stop there.

Then there’s Richard Gere opposite Bruce Willis in The Jackal. Begosh and Begorra! T’was fookin’ torture to the ears, eh, Father?

Dennis Hopper took a run at it with Steven Seagal in Ticker. Dennis couldn’t even hold the fake accent through a single paragraph – kept slipping in and out mid-sentence.

Brad Pitt opposite Harrison Ford in The Devil’s Own. Just fookin’ shameful!

And let’s not leave the lassies out: Julia Roberts in that Jekyl & Hyde flick, Mary Reilly. Lard t’underin’ fook n’ Saints alive, save us!

What is about the Irish accent that absolutely crushes anyone who tries to fake it? Every single one of the listed movies would have been vastly improved by replacing the lead character with that fucking leprechaun from the Lucky Charms commercials – Blue hearts and yellow moons…!

I mean, fer fook sakes, eh? Liam Neeson has a hard enough time with it, and the coont was BARN in Narthen Ir’land! Drove a fookin’ farklif’ fer Guiness, he fookin’ did.

Ah, fookit. Ah’m goona go watch Boondock Saints.

Hank and the Coleman Cooler

One day a buddy of mine and I went to the beach. It was crowded, so we walked up the beach about 1500 meters to get away from the mass of idiots playing bad music on cheap portable stereos.
A couple of hours later, two girls we knew walked up. We knew neither of them had a car, so we asked how they came to be at the beach.
“Hank gave us a drive.”
Where’s Hank?
They turned and pointed. In the distance we could see Hank, shirtless and carrying one of those metal Coleman coolers that weigh about 10 pounds empty. From the way Hank was staggering, we could tell two things: Hank was drunk, and the cooler was full.
We watched Hank zigzag back and forth in the sand, dragged hither and yon by the sheer weight of that cooler, for what seemed like a long time. Eventually he arrived at our spot, dropped the cooler and collapsed on top of it.
“Jesus Fucked Up Christ!” gasped Hank, “Did you guys come far enough down the fucking beach?”
Hank flipped open the cooler and cursed under his breath.
Half full of melt water with a single floating can of beer.