Monday, July 28, 2008

Is That You, Sparkie?

Blogging opens the door to the richness that is life's puzzle, including the ability to see, and be seen by, so many people both near and far. As I perused my site stats for the last 24 hours, I was surprised to find a Comcast customer who came by not just once, not twice, not even thrice, but on four separate occasions.

My new (old?) online friend spent a total of 2 hours and 14 minutes here at my shitty little blog, and racked up 44 page views. That's an average of just over 3 minutes per page, for every page. The longest session lasted an hour and 41 minutes.

If they viewed my site using a laptop while sitting on the can, their legs must surely have gone numb. That's just not healthy. Never sit on the can for a moment longer than it takes to read a single article in People magazine (ironically, just over 3 minutes).

Of course, I just had to find out where Richmond, Texas actually is. Now, I know that this location identifies a switching station in the Comcast network, and not the actual location of the person who surfed over.

But, lo and behold, it appears that Richmond is the pimple on the asshole that is the city of Houston.

It's a small world, after all.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

So Near, Yet So Far

As previously noted, I journeyed to the only livable city in Texas last week, in order to make a blood sacrifice to Our Dark Lord, Kos.

I had a great time, though I came home two pints down - nothing that a few servings of sautéed calves’ liver can’t fix. Highlights of the trip included an intimate moment with Al Gore, Nancy Pelosi, and a couple thousand of my closest friends.

But, as fate would have it, Sparkie was also in Austin for a somewhat smaller gathering of wingnuts. Looking at the photos of that gig, I'm going to generously estimate the crowd peaked at about 20 - when free snacks and one complimentary domestic beer or small glass of wine per person were available.

If I had known about Sparkie's travel plans, I might have sought her out. Maybe she would have done the same favor for me that she so enthusiastically granted Crash McCain.

What can I say? All men are pigs.

photo by johne1235

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

McCain Visits Oil Rig - Nobody Gives a Shit

Actually, his shameless photo op visit was called off at the last minute, either because of a nearby oil spill, or because McCain's advance staff doesn't know how to check weather reports.

Bonus - Is John Sidney McCain III's staff taking advice from Rightwingsparkle's chief cobag?

Hanx to logsol

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Support the Troops, and Vice Versa



I just love looking at my lengthy and detailed visit statistics. I also love looking in the mirror, but I digress.

Anywhoozle, I was happy to see a uniformed employee of the Federal Government (or maybe it was an employee of a blood-sucking contractor) stop by yesterday. I was even happier to see what brought him (or her) over to my shitty little blog.

Carry on.

posted from beautiful downtown Austin, Texas.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Let Me Entertain You

Did you hear the one about the woman who is attacked on the street by a gorilla, beaten senseless, raped repeatedly and left to die? When she finally regains consciousness and tries to speak, her doctor leans over to hear her sigh contently and to feebly ask, “Where is that marvelous ape?"

Wow! What a great audience. You guys are terrific. Thank you very much. I'll be here all week.

And, try the veal.

Yup, John Sidney McCain III really killed ‘em back in 1986, during his gig with the fine folks at the National League of Cities and Towns.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Gone Fishin’

No fish in here

Well, actually, I’m gonna be rubbing elbows with elite opinion-makers from all over the globe, down at the conference capital of the universe.

And I must make a blood sacrifice to our Dark Lord, Kos.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

George W. Bush is Stupid, and Fucking Insane



This blast from the not-so-distant-past makes it painfully clear that he was never ready for prime time.

Tony Snow Dies, Joins Jesse Helms

Thursday, July 10, 2008

McCain's POW Experience DISQUALIFIES Him

While gasbags/entertainers like Tweety the Walking Hard-on, Hairhat Brian Williams, senile cobag Bill Schieffer, and others just can't get enough of ol' Mad Jack McInsane and his breathless history of crashing his planes and getting his arms twisted off by gooks, I think the rest of us should actually take a moment to think about why this man's Vietnam-era experiences should knock him clear out of the box as a candidate for what can rightly be considered the most stress-filled job of all time.

I came across a comment over at Our Dark Lord, Kos's that explains it all better than I ever could:
...you wait after finding out their path home with a large hunk of wood and you blind side their ass and you keep kicking them in the kidneys til they piss blood, dislocate their shoulder and twist so they will remember you every time the weather changes and when you are done you whisper in their ear over their sobs and blubbering that if they so much as burp wrong you WILL find them again.

Just like this sadistic little fuck, Mad Jack has PTSD, and is better served by some supervised chilling in a quiet corner of the woods, far, far away from sharp objects, loud noises, and any opportunity to act on the advice of those relentless voices in his head.

John Sidney McCain III needs our informed love and understanding, not our votes.

photo from The Observer via BagNewsNotes

Friday, July 4, 2008

Jesse Helms Dies, Goes to Hell

They gave that spot in Heaven to a minority.

Bonus


Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Rightwingsparkle Lays On the Love

Though I can't really say that she laid that sweet, sweet lovin' on me, because her witch's brew of psychopathology includes a heady portion of pure narcissism.

In what passes for her mind, it's Sparkie time all the time.

As with any good self-love story, it all started when I was poking around my sitemeter stats, wondering who's come over to my shitty little blog recently, how much time they spent, and how they knew to get here in the first place.

As I scanned the seemingly-endless list of referring url's, one jumped out past the others - someone had come to my shitty little blog via one of the premier D-list wingnut sites - the one run by the vaginaphobic little man himself.

I followed the link to a post and discussion that's probably best compared to a bunch of hairy guys rubbing lotion on each other (not that there's anything wrong with that).

And there it was, like that crumpled note on the floor beneath my 5th-grade desk so long ago...

Bliss.