". . .And the girls were immersed in a kind of foamy gray Love Canal that made me want to avert my eyes" Yay, it's Friday, and we can hardly wait for our regular Friday fix of TBOGG stories about America's Worst Mother (TM Tbogg corp). As you will recall, last time young Gunsel, inspired by Mummy's reading of Treasure Island, hired some pirates to off his father. Let's see how long it takes for anyone to notice that Daddy is missing. This time it's another adventure in squalor, as Meghan copes with a broken dishwasher and vacuum by refusing to wash dishes or clean the carpets. Oh, and the desperate children are adding food coloring to their bath water and drinking it, pretending that it's soup, or juice, or some other form of food. Sure, the water contains unhealthy levels of lead, but as Meghan cheerfully tells Specious and Jerobeam, at least it's better for them than ricin. Well, she doesn't actually say it, because the stupid twits don't even know what the Senate is, but she THINKS it, and gathers some more castor beans. Now, back to Meghan, who is the REAL victim here, because she's suffering from a whole bunch o' papercuts from mailing out all those ricin-filled letters to the Senate. Well, she claims it was from stuffing envelopes for the children's private school, but that's just in case the FBI is reading. While the children drown in the bathtub, Meghan shares with us her deviously clever revenge on the neighbors who sport "Regime Change Begins at Home" or "Attack Iraq? No!" bumper stickers: she uses those USPS Purple Heart stamps on their envelopes. Meghan laughs fiendishly as she imagines the liberal bastards writhing in agony as the ricin spreads throughout their systems . . . Um, that was probably just a joke on Meghan's part. What she meant was that she imagines the libs recoiling in horror from patriotic stamps. Somewhere in that fantasy, Meghan hears the voice of "the invisible wife," who reminds her that John Kerry actually won 3 Purple Hearts in Vietham, while Bush was AWOL. Her bloodthirsty smile fades. Damn that invisible wife, always spoiling Meghan's fun! Son NASCAR wants turquoise bath water. Fine, whatever. Just don't bother Mummy when she's plotting unspeakable horrors to visit on the neighbors. And that's the last we ever hear of NASCAR. The kid who hasn't drowned (eldest daughter Passion) demands that her bedtime story be about Howard Dean's special interests. Mummy explains that special interests are "groups that support the other guy." So, says Meghan, when Democrats talk about special interests, they mean Christians, Patriots, and Uncle Oil Industry. For Republicans, it means adulterers, baby-killers, and sodomites. Passion stuns her mother by ratting out her teachers. Then she sleepily asks what sodomites are. And that concludes this week's heartwarming story of life in the Fever Swamp. Next time: the FBI closes in on the "PTA Ricin Killer," and life is much less hectic for Meghan, now that all of the household applicances are broken, and she only has one living child. At least, that was my interpretation of it all. We have to wait for TBOGG to give us the official version. 7:52:15 AM  |
And a couple more shocking things you should be aware of: Washing the Blog has photos of the REAL Kerry scandal (and it involves grassy knolls, fiery deaths in the sky, and the destruction of Tokyo). I accuse Chelsea Clinton of somehow getting the media focused on it. And in case you don't have a sweetheart this Valentine's Day and are feeling blue, read Thrilling Days of Yesteryear's expose of Pat Novak For Hire. It proves that dames are nothing but bad news, and a guy who trusts one will end up unconscious in an alley, framed for murder. Every time! It also has a cute photo of a young Jack Webb. 7:16:41 AM |
BITTEREST DAY  A survey indicates that 78% of Americans are currently in a romantic relationship (and since we saw this on "Pop-Up Videos," it must be accurate). For these people, there is Valentine’s Day, a time to show your loved one just how much you care by buying him or her a tacky gift and a pre-printed card. And while some cynics maintain that the holiday was invented by Fanny Farmer and FTD, we shouldn’t forget the person for whom the day is named, Saint Valentine, the Christian martyr who was shot by gangsters in a garage in Chicago over a shipment of bootleg Whitman’s Samplers. Don’t get the wrong idea; we approve of Valentine’s Day, if only because a holiday celebrating romance is better than one honoring some of the other major forces in American society, like gun violence or litigation or daytime TV. (True, it often seems that these activities are actually more popular than romance, but until the Pope names, say, a patron saint of Shooting Sprees, we probably won’t have to worry about buying a heart-shaped box of ammo for that Special Someone.) Nevertheless, we don’t think it’s quite fair that couples get Valentine’s Day AND Sweetest Day, the third Saturday in October (described as "A day to honor and be kind to one’s sweetheart"). While Sweetest Day has never really caught on with shoppers (despite the urging of florists, who fail to see much Halloween business) it is still listed on most calendars and celebrated by many parochial schools. So, since people who need people are the luckiest people in the world, we think that it’s only right that the 22% of the populace who are NOT in a relationship get a holiday of their own. Thus, for everyone who won’t be getting flowers, a diamond, or dinner and an amateur strip show this February 14th and will not be depending on the kindness of familiars on the 20th of October, we would like to propose a special day, just for us. We call it Bitterest Day. Bitterest Day, celebrated on the 15th of February, will be the official anti-romance holiday. It will be a legal holiday, involving time off work with full pay, but only for those who are nobody because nobody loves them. Its motto will be, "I may not be appealing to the opposite sex, but I DO have money to spend on consumer goods." Let us now explain some of the customs and traditions of this newest American holiday: Cards We all know that one of the most important parts of Valentine's Day is those frilly, mushy, overpriced bits of cardboard which all spouses and sweethearts are required to buy, under penalty of "not getting any." Bitterest Day also has its cards. But you don't send them to that Special Someone. No, you send them to one member of that Special Twosome. Indeed, you choose the cutest, sweetest, ickiest couples you can think of, and "Care enough to send the very worst." And although you may address the card to Marsha, your intended audiences is John (or vice versa). After all, they DO share everything, right? Here are a couple sample cards: Front cover: When you left, you took my heart. But you left behind . . . Inside: THESE! (Attached is a pair of crotchless panties.) Front cover: How do you make love last forever? Inside: I don't know. But I DO know how to make you pay for it for 18 years. (Attached are authentic-looking paternity test results.) Food While lovers get 5-pound boxes of chocolates and expensive candlelit dinners at French restaurants, what do WE, the non-adored get? Well, we also get expensive dinners at French restaurants. This is how it works. You call up "Danny," your ex-boyfriend, and you tell him that you read in Ann Landers that it's "Reconciliation Day" today, and you want to invite him to sup at Chez l'Imbecile to demonstrate that you've "gotten beyond" everything. Mention that you also want to invite Klamidia, the stewardess he dumped you for, since you know she must be a special lady. When they arrive, tell them that this is a special occasion, and urge them to order the most expensive things on the menu—you do the same. During dinner, offer small talk such as, "I'm so happy to see that the two of you are still together. It's rare to see somebody forgive the person who gave them . . .oh, but I shouldn’t be talking about periodic discharge at the dinner table!" And, "Danny, I have such special memories of our time together--I think of them whenever I watch the videos. Hey, have you heard about those websites where they pay for amateur bedroom tapes? Kind of intriguing, huh?" Then, while they are enjoying dessert, get up to "powder your nose." Keep on walking right out of the restaurant, leaving the check for them. Worried about repercussions? On Bitterest Day, there are none. It's the law. Jewelry Get something that lasts even longer than a diamond. A tattoo. Flowers Okay, maybe you won’t be getting two dozen red roses, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy nature’s bounty. As a celebrant of Bitterest Day, you’ll get your fill of posies by spending time in a floral shop—whichever floral shop used the most annoying Valentine’s Day ad this year. (My nominee is the one that cautions "Don’t break her heart this Valentine’s Day—get her the roses she deserves, if you really care.") On February 15th, the florist will be exhausted, stressed, and probably suffering from methamphetamine withdrawal. So, use Bitterest Day to choose massively complicated flower arrangements for your upcoming wedding! Surely you’ll need to look at LOTS of design books and at TONS of samples to plan the floral arrangements for the extravaganza your daddy, the Senator, will be giving his little girl. And since you are something of a bubble brain, you will have a hard time remembering just exactly what they call those white blossoms that you’ve always dreamed of for your bouquet. ("Bougainvillea? Tuberoses? No, wait, I think they’re called carnations!") After five or six hours, when you have finally gotten everything settled, call your fiancé and tell him the plans. Sputter, stutter, mutter some profanities, and finally yell, "Then the wedding is OFF!" and slam down the phone. Inform the florist that you could never marry a man who didn’t love baby’s breath as much as you do. But feel no need to apologize for wasting the petal monger’s time–for you’ve just helped another curmudgeon learn the true meaning of Bitterest Day! Which brings us to... Bitterest Day Holiday Specials Let’s face it; we all lead rushed, harried lives that leave little time for the simple joys of an old-fashioned holiday celebration. That’s where the media comes in, since it often takes a showing of "It’s a Wonderful Life," or "Frosty the Snowman" before we can begin to feel the Christmas spirit. So it is with Bitterest Day. Of course, in our version of the typical Rankin-Bass animated special, Frosty has NERVE-ENDINGS, and he screams as he melts. Screams quite a lot, until the children who pranced so gaily around him are left pale and shaken, and his last, whispered words, "I’ll be BACK again, someday...!" haunts the dreams of all who witnessed his hideous demise. For the adults, meanwhile, there’s that Bitterest Day perennial, "The Bishop’s Wife," in which an angel is sent to Earth to restore a churchman’s wavering faith, and help him to erect a cathedral. In short order, the angel cuckolds the hapless cleric, then hatches a ghost payrolling scheme with the mobbed-up local union boss to funnel the construction funds to an offshore account, leaving the Bishop behind to face charges of peculation while the angel and the Bishop’s wife enjoy an extradition-free life on Grand Cayman. So, in conclusion, we urge you to open your heart to Bitterest Day, the one day a year in which it’s okay to be an old maid living with nine cats, or a quiet loner with a large collection of guns and porn. For the most important part of Bitterest Day is feeling good about yourself as a person in your own right, and realizing that you don’t have to be part of a couple in order to be okay. Plus, on Bitterest Day, you don’t have to wear anything that makes you look like a prostitute Care Bear, and can wander around your dusty house in the tattered remains of a wedding dress without enduring any snide references to "Great Expectations." So get on the phone to Merlin Olson today, and say it with Bitterness. 6:25:25 AM |
Extra! Kerry Scandal Edition No need to actually read Drudge or the National Enquirer to learn all the juicy Kerry details: Instapundit, Best of the Web Today, Mickey Kaus, and AndrewSullivan will tell you all you need to know from the comfort and respectability of their blogs. Well, they won't soil a lady's reputation by actually NAMING her (because they're gentlemen), and they refrain from detailing the sordid details, but they do HINT at a lot of stuff -- and thereby ingeniously manage to make the story seem worse than what the tabloids are actually serving up. (All while scrupulously reminding you that Drudge is "only 80% accurate," but he WAS right about Monica, after all, so . . .) Oh, and hasten to assure us that it's nobody's business but those involved if Kerry is cheating on his wife, but it does show a lack of character that's even worse than skipping out on Guard service -- and, like Lileks said, while most politicians cheat, we can't have a horndog in the White House, because he'll spend all his time worrying about getting some tail instead of continuing the war on foreign evil doers. Anyway, in case you don't want to bother even reading the above sources, the gist of the Drudge report is that "a claimed two-year relationship" (2001 to just before Kerry announced his candidacy in fall 2002) between Kerry and a young woman is being investigated by Time, ABC News, The Wash Post, The Hill, etc. The woman is hinted to have been a former Kerry intern. After being approached by a TV news producer (presumably ABC) for her story, the woman fled to Africa, possibly at the direction of Kerry. The story of the relationship was peddled to the media by a "friend of the woman" a few months ago, but nobody wanted to hear about it until recently. The "20-year-old" "intern" once worked for Associated Press. Kerry is going to address the relationship this morning on the Don Imus radio program. For further details, we go to The Sun, which reveals the woman's name (we'll just call her Alex) and indicates that, "There is no evidence the pair had an affair." The woman is now 24. The Sun interviews her parents, who claim that Kerry invited her to Washington two or three years ago, and asked her to be on his reelection committee, which she declined. They accuse Kerry of "chasing" their daughter, call him a "sleazeball," and think their daughter probably thought of him the same way. The story concludes with the info that "Journalist Alex was in Kenya last night refusing to comment." So, not much of a scandal so far. Thus, everybody is saying that the REAL news is who is pushing this story and trying to slime Kerry (who is, they all remind you, slimy, but wouldn't it be cool if this "scandal" could kill two birds with one intern). Maybe it was Howard Dean's people! Or possibly Wes Clark! Most likely one of them, because that's the kind of thing they might do, possibly. Of course, it could have been the RNC, or the White House, but probably not, because they would have slimed him later in the race. Sullivan mentions that the whole thing sounds pretty Lucianne Goldbergian, but Jonah says "nuh uh!" (And then Lucianne emails Sully to assure him it wasn't her -- probably Clark or Dean.) Could it just be the press following up on a juicy rumor because they know how much the public loves intern scandals? No, that's just what they WANT you to think! And then we get to wacky theories like this, courtesy of Sullivan:
Andy, the reason that McAuliffe "raised" the Bush AWOL story now, is that the media attacked Clark for not slapping down his supporter Michael Moore when Moore raised the issue a few days ago. And thus the helpful press brought the matter to everyone's attention "now." It's too bad nobody ever tells you these kind of things, Andrew. But I like your faith in the powers of the DNC to elicit precise reactions from the White House spokesman (I guess McClellan is some kind of Manchurian Candidate controlled by McAuliffe; the White House should probably follow up on this). And, yes, the idea that the Clintons are the secret masterminds behind the "Kerry intern scandal," is indeed "paranoid," but there are drugs that can help with this kind of thing. But lets move on to ANOTHER Kerry scandal, which I first learned of from Sullivan: And when we go to Kaus, we get THIS important story (provided here exactly as "published" on Slate):
What a prince Mick is, to thoughtfully refrain from mentioning the girl's name (which a check of the Boston Herald archives easily reveals -- as does Roger Ailes, who wants to know what happened to Mick's stones). Anyway, we'll just call the woman "Maria." But Google shows that Freepers posted this story in January of this year, effectively scooping Mick with their "unearthing" abilities. And what's more, they didn't cut the exculpatory portions (and since they used the later edition of the Herald story, they protected the woman's privacy too, and without being ostentatious about it). Here's what Kaus didn't feel was relevant to his "everything is on the table" item, courtesy of Free Republic:
So, Mickey has the distinction of being more sleazy and less responsible than the Freepers. Way to go, Mick! (Is it possible that Mickey's "unaligned feminist Democrat" is actually a Freeper? Sounds that way to me.) And what should be the lesson to you from all of this? That the Sun and Free Republic are more open about their interest in sleaze (and about their partisanship), and they also provide better, more complete stories than any of the bloggers mentioned in the first paragraph. So, I'd suggest they are the more honest, moral sources for your scandal news . . .and possibly for all of your news. 6:05:39 AM |
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