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It must be asked.
Should we repeat the craziness of "Deceiver Madness" this year?
Loading ...Plead your case in the comments. We promise to read, absorb, and contemplate your wishes. And if we make the wrong call, blame Pastafarian. (Sucks to be the new guy, huh?)
Did everybody enjoy “Tax-Cut Barry” last night on the tele-tubes? I entertained myself by watching “Barack Borat” live blogging on Twitter. (He’s funny as hell, but the humor loses something in the translation from Kazakh.)
But if one thing is crystal clear from last night’s State of the Union (other than the fact that Harry Reid needs a nap and Justice Samuel Alito is president of the Joe Wilson fan club), it’s that the President and Congress do not like banks. Nosirree. Banks suck. The fact that he lent them $700 billion of our money does not mean he enjoyed it.
So it should come as no surprise that while President Obama has now turned his focus to jobs, he’s not too worried about making sure those evil money-changers avoid pink slips. Now that the healthcare bill has blown up like a well-trained underpants bomber, he’s pushing a “Race to the Top” education program funded (in large part) by a government takeover of another industry.
This time, companies that write student loans are the targets. And the result will be the loss of thousands of private sector jobs.
Thanks for putting up with the slow response time from our site today. Apparently, we’re wildly popular all of a sudden, what with Fark sending us traffic about Alabama gambling, and all the peasants with pitchforks waving abortion-politics torches at one another.
Traffic is way up. It’s a good problem to have. But we’re working with our hosting provider to bump up our bandwidth allowance.
If nothing else, this is a good fire-drill for the Olympics, the upcoming “Deceiver Madness” tournament, or the next time a big newspaper does a retrospective on PETA’s anti-fur campaigns.
Update: Wednesday was the third-highest traffic day in our history. Keep sending your friends and neighbors! We appear to be contagious.
I know it seems like I’m making this up, but I swear I’m not. One of our syndicators told me today that Amazon has been selling subscriptions to our little site in its Kindle Store since September. How ’bout that?
Anyone? Bueller? (Is this thing on?)
It’s only 99 cents. And, yes, we stand to make a few pesos this way. Very few.
For the record, I don’t own a Kindle. I read my books the old-fashioned way: on papyrus, written in longhand with ink made from crushed cinnabar and the tears of orphans. Like God intended.
So subscribe to us on your Kindle today! Or just keep reading us with an old, antiquated “web” “browser” on your “laptop.” See if I care.
You just have to love PETA. Some days if it weren’t for them, I would have no entertainment at all.
The save-the-animals crowd gets their collective panties in a wad every time I eat a steak, make some artisanal goat-milk cheese, go fly fishing, take down a black bear, ride a circus elephant, trap a lynx, test my new cancer cure on some ferrets, shear some sheep, or stitch some mink pelts together for grandma.
You just can’t please these pricks.
So I think this is a genuine gotcha. I was browsing PETA’s vegetarian cooking website, looking for ways to punish my 5-year-old, when I happened on this:
Country Bread
Making homemade bread doesn’t have to be as difficult as it sounds, and it can be much healthier than store-bought bread, without all the added preservatives. One of my favorite varieties to make is a rustic sourdough. I like to call it “country bread.”
This recipe calls for an active sourdough culture, and the remaining ingredients couldn’t be simpler—just flour, water, and sea salt. To make this a true country loaf, place the round of dough in the oven without slashing the top. As it bakes, the bread will break apart and create a rustic look.
Enjoy!
Continue reading ‘What — No Rights For Single-Celled Organisms?’
From Joe Biden’s official media schedule for January 14, 2010:
At 1:00 PM, the Vice President will meet with Iraqi Vice President Adil Abd al-Mahdi in the Roosevelt Room. There will be a pool spray at the bottom of this meeting; gather time is 1:45 PM in the Brady Briefing Room.
Then, at 2:15 PM, the Vice President will meet with Earl Devaney, chairman of the Recovery Act Transparency and Accountability Board. This meeting is closed press.
A secretive, closed-door meeting on transparency and accountability?
Please tell me I overslept a little and it’s April 1 already.
Please?
Okay. Here’s the Los Angeles Times “Top of the Ticket” blog on this, er, contradiction:
[T]oday’s Biden schedule highlight is a meeting with the chief of transparency for economic recovery. But, unfortunately, the transparency meeting is non-transparent, closed to the press. Which makes it — what? — secret openness? Open secrecy?
To which one blog commenter responded — and this has got to be the Quote of the Week — “I want my income to be this transparent to the IRS.”
Remember John Edwards? That whole “Two Americas” riff from way back in December 2007? (One you marry, the other you knock up…) The $400 haircuts? The mistress? The cancer-stricken wife? The love child? The smarmy excuses?
Me neither.
But apparently the National Enquirer isn’t letting pretty-boy Breck Girl go. Because–well, he’s still trying to bang anything with a pulse and no Y chromosomes:
[T]he philandering ex-senator embarked on a “sex-and-booze bender” after what appeared to be a marriage-ending blowout fight with his cancer-stricken wife Elizabeth.
While still publicly not admitting paternity of his love child – who turns 2 in February – the disgraced former presidential candidate shocked eyewitnesses by recently spending several consecutive nights trawling bars in search of women.
Before booting her shameless husband from their home after Christmas, Elizabeth screamed at John that she was “finally signing” the divorce papers she had her lawyers draw up last year during a previous battle over his relationship with Rielle Hunter, the mother of his baby.
Edwards fled to the couple’s vacation home on Figure Eight Island near Wilmington, N.C. – and attempted to bed a female bartender as well as bar patrons young enough to be his daughter, say shocked witnesses.
In a bombshell exclusive interview with The ENQUIRER, bartender Stephanie Breshears revealed that Edwards repeatedly tried to get her to go back to his house for sex. The 34-year-old divorced mother-of-two said Edwards hit on her “for four consecutive nights” at the local Kornerstone Bistro, where she works.
“I think he’s scum,” Stephanie told The ENQUIRER. “He was definitely looking to pick up women when he came in here – and he wanted me to go back to his house.”
Not for nothing, the Edwards for President people still have his campaign website up online. Complete with hopeful “Yay America!” language, bumper stickers, and a soft-airbrushed pic of him and the wife he cheated on.
You stay classy, John Boy.
If Tila Tequila’s behavior immediately following the death of her lover Casey Johnson wasn’t bizarre enough for you, the always pornographic “Shot At Love” pixie has re-emerged from the shadows — insisting, as always, that she’s definitely not milking the Johnson & Johnson heiress’s death for publicity.
Nuh-uh. Nosiree. Nothing to see here. And she’s certainly “not doing a press tour” like Perez Hilton. Or something.
Lemme ask you this: If she were on a press tour, trying to make someone’s tragic death into a story about herself, what sorts of things would she (or her publicist) be doing?
Continue reading ‘Tila Tequila’s Definitely NOT on a Pre-Funeral Press Tour.’
… although she does ride horses. But please, no “why the long face” jokes.
Please issue a hearty Deceiver welcome to Sarah Jessica Snarker. She’ll be joining the regular cast of crazies here at Hypocrite-Hunter Central.
I have no idea what she’s going to write about. Could be there’s something hypocritical about Tucker Carlson’s new Daily Caller news site. Or maybe Sarah Palin’s jump to Fox News will turn out to be two-faced somehow. (Not on Palin’s part — I’m thinking Roger Ailes.) Or perhaps the next time an Amy Winehouse song comes on my car radio, the court-ordered breathalyzer will kick in and I’ll call Sarah & ask her to blog about that damned judge.
We’ll see.
Seriously, folks, Sarah is “one of us.” By which I mean she has a permanent IV drip of pomegranate Cosmos, a cable TV remote surgically implanted in her left palm, a troubled marriage to Ferris Bueller, and a nagging feeling that she was Dorothy Parker in a previous life. (Why is it that no one thinks they were reincarnated from an earlier existence as a slave laborer or a human cannonball?)
Now that I’ve thoroughly embarrassed her, I’ll let Sarah take it from here. All you lions (and Frenchmen) out there — sharpen those claws & knives.
Image: Gallery of the Absurd
P.S. Those rumors that Simon Scowl got scooped up by a Cardassian slaver and is now mining latinum on a distant moon? Totally true.
I know I’ve been a little hard on Jimmy Carter 2.0™ lately. Some of you out there in blog-land have even accused me of being a naked partisan who does nothing all day but read conservative writers and design “Beck/Palin 2012″ bumperstickers.
I’ll cop to the “naked” part. But in my defense, this Mark Fiore animated cartoon has been out there since June 2009, and I had no idea. What kind of Dittohead could I possibly be if I was too distracted by real life to find this gem? Hmmm?
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