Tag Archives: meme

I had a dream

In my dream, I was grocery shopping, and Sarah Palin was there defending herself against the newly exhumed fact that she did not graduate from high school (N.B.: this is in a dream, I ain’t be starting any rumors). Of course this led to her supporters showing up and chanting “Sarah Palin graduates! Sarah Palin graduates!” Now here’s the bummer: a rudimentary Google search shows that my dream is not even that original! Sigh. I want to do whatever common people do. Step it up, 90s loving subconscious.

We dragged a ybab to the great state of New Hampshire yesterday to see Barack Obama. Joe Biden didn’t come, and that was too bad, because a ybab was much better at pronouncing Joe Biden. I got my “Million MILFs for Obama”* t-shirt, and ybab chose an unlicensed Peanuts “Obama for Kids” button, and we installed ourselves on a grassy knoll to watch.

Hearing Obama in person was inspiring. He’s a phenomenal speaker, and the energy of the crowd was so comforting. We didn’t even see any hecklers, except for one random homeless couple. Who knew the homeless favor big business and trickle down economics?

I am beyond sick of hearing this campaign fought via spin in the media. I checked the Boston Globe for pictures of the event later in the afternoon, and of course there was a quote from Tucker Bounds at the end of the article (fair and balanced and all) saying that Obama campaigning with a hurricane going on was essentially despicable, and the “scathing personal attacks” were a new low. Huh? I was there, was Tucker Bounds? I missed the scathing, and usually I know from scathing. Trust me, I love scathing! And I am sure that Sarah Palin’s event in Nevada on the same day featured zero scathing remarks. Obama opened his speech with discussion of the hurricane situation, and he urged everyone to contribute to the American Red Cross.

My one wish is that people would review the positions put forth by candidates right from the websites of the individual candidates. I am weary of hearing facts come out crushed in a game of telephone, facts from friends and acquaintances who are normally very together people. It brings us all down. We can’t rely on sound bites and “Well, my friend read that…” We have unparalleled access to primary source information these days.

Let’s say you are worried about taxes? We should absolutely be worried about what the government intends to collect and how they want to spend it. Go read the Obama tax plan. It won’t take much longer than updating your fantasy Project Runway team (mine is doing really well, thank you!). There’s a link on that page to the full PDF, as well as a comparison chart. This is McCain’s tax policy. Do you see any mention of the poor or middle class? I don’t. Read, read, read. Make up your own mind on this one. We are all in this together as hard workers and people who want the best for our families.

If you are able to, please consider contributing to the Obama campaign via my financing link.

Now a ybab is awake, and I have to hear the story of how Mr. H converted a Republican in the checkout line by quoting actual facts. Not that it really matters, stupid electoral college.

*Apparently no one has printed this shirt yet. I am glad I fact-checked myself. And I call dibbs.

918: When you care enough to click confirm

I can’t live in the present, and in the future the sun is so hot that we have to wear Oakley sunglasses as soon as we step outside, so I am taking a trip to two months ago. Two months ago was not noticeably better than now, except it’s over, and I don’t have to do it again. That is a plus.

I really phoned in “Hippos Go Berserk” just now. I will add $5 to ybab’s therapy jar.

I’ll be taking requests for the next 82 posts before the doors clang shut forever!


Ybab was just carried screaming down the hall by the chupacabra. I told the chupacabra that the way to shut off the screaming is to sing “Let’s all go to the lobby, let’s all go to the lobby, let’s all go to the lobby to get ourselves a treat.” Why not, eh? It probably won’t work, but it will be funny.

I am exhausted from a round of “who has the paperwork?” with the mortgage vultures this morning. The answer: you do! You have it. Don’t you even think of faxing 134 pages to me, tree murderers.

Mr. H had never seen any lolcats. I can’t believe this. So I made him view some last night. He wanted to know why cats speak Engrish. Damned if I know. Could it be something along the lines of how dogs are bad at French? On another note, I received a brief written in lolcat recently.


The vomitorium is simply not the same while Clammy is traipsing about Tokyo, ampoule offending other cultures, there eating fish that are still twitching, try and leering at strange men while her husband rattles in the grip of SARS. Oh how we kid- he just has a cold, and Clammy is not so much of a leerer as a sneerer.

I am sure every last one of you have seen this by now. I have always wanted a chicken of my very own to order around! Some friends of mine created this, and its wild success has been such that we had a chicken themed party last week, including exploding peeps in the microwave and cockspur rum. I highly recommend the Cock ´n´ Coke. Make it a stiff one!