The World O' Crap Archive

Welcome to the Collected World O' Crap, a comprehensive library of posts from the original Salon Blog, and our successor site, (2006 to 2010).

Current posts can be found here.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Where Are They Now, and Why Should I Care?

Our popular* feature where we give another 30 seconds to those whose 15 minutes have come and gone.   

*Popularity may vary 
1. First, let’s find out what ever happened to Jim Guckert, who, disguised as a mild-mannered reporter for an obscure partisan Republican website, fought a never-ended battle for untruth, White House puffery, and hot military studs. Well, it seems that he’s addressing the Log Cabin Republicans today. Really!  (Presumably his topic will not be ‘How the Death Tax Shafts the Republican Man Whore” or “Illegal Immigration is Taking Money Out of the G-String of the Hardworking American Male Prostitute.”)  

New York Daily News gossip columnist Ben Widdicombe had a brief chat with the former “journalist,” during which JimJeff gave his standard spiel about how the MSM is repressing him and stuff.  
Conservative scribe Jeff Gannon — who lost his White House press perch over that awkward thing about being a gay escort — comes to New York this week to tell us about “the issue of liberal bias in mainstream media.”

Which is kinda funny, given that he’s the poster boy for right-wing media bias.
“That whole concept is ridiculous,” Gannon told us. “I’m a conservative, [and] this administration has disappointed conservatives on spending, judicial nominees, immigration, and many of my questions would call them to account for those things.”
Yes, we all remember Jeff’s probing (get your mind out of the gutter!) questions, such as “Doesn’t Joe Wilson owe the President and American an apology for his deception and his own intelligence failure?”; “How are you going to work with people who seem to have divorced themselves from reality?”’ and “As a man approaching genius, don’t you feel that you’re the sexiest president to have ever saved Western Civilization single-handedly?”
Anyway, the Daily News has more, to include Jeff’s comment re his sex-for-sale online ads: “I don’t think the Internet quite has the credibility to be taken just at face value.”

So, kids, you’ve heard it from an expert: Not everyone who claims to be 8″, cut, really is.

2. Now, we ask, “Whatever happened to Annie Jacobsen, the woman who was terrified by the Syrian Wayne Newton and his menacing band of satin-jacketed Syrian Pips?”
And then we answer,”Heck if we know.”

Yes, Annie seems to have pretty much disappeared after her book*, Terror in the Skies: Why 9/11 Could Happen Again, came out (and the book did pretty much the same thing).
So, we have to go to Debbie Schlussel to ask the question that Annie would have asked, if only she were still around — “Snakes on a Plane: Could Terrorists Do This?
For our TSA and FAM readers in the know, would it be at all possible to sneak snakes on a plane this way or some other way?
If you value your life, don’t get on a plane until Debbie gets this question answered!!!
*Annie’s book currently has an Sales Rank of #300,819. However, our book, Better Living Through Bad Movies, is #118,899. As John Stossel and the Invisible Hand would tell you, this means that our book is three times better than Annie’s when it comes to providing you with airline security information.

However, while at Amazon we did learn this interesting factoid from a review of Annie’s book:
By the way Kevin Jacobsen, her husband, was initially so put off by the behavior of the fifteen Arab “musicians” on board the flight that he seriously contemplated faking a heart attack in order to get out of the plane before takeoff. Lacking the audacity to carry that out (a courage he no doubt has acquired by now) Mr. Jacobsen sat frozen through the flight, pen in hand, ready to fend off the terrorists.
So, if there are ever Syrian musicians (or snakes) on YOUR plane, you should hope and pray that you’re sitting next to Kevin Jacobsen at the time, because although he will be too scared to save you via a fake heart attack, he does have a pen ready to fend off their McDonalds Sacks of Mass Destruction (or whatever the snakely terrorist equivilent might be).

3.  Now it’s time to focus on the Dobson family, specifically Ryan Dobson, doofy surfer dude son of James Dobson. As you may recall, Ryan, whose previous claim to fame was being the son of James Dobson and writing the book Be Intolerant, got remarried last summer, and then packed up the bride and moved back to Colorado, to return to work for the family business.

Well, the latest news from Ryan’s Blog is that the little woman is expecting a little fetus — Ryan even provides the sonogram results to prove his claim. Ryan reports that he and the missus are “stoked,” and his parents are “freaking out” about the first Dobson grandchild. (Hey, they desperately needed more family to focus on.)

We wish the kid well, but after having heard the story of Siggie the dachshund (AKA ”James Dobson: Dog Abuser“), we advise it to NEVER CROSS GRANDPA!

4. And now for the question on everyone’s minds: “What ever happened to that Anglophile twit who lived in the decaying house in D.C. with the pack of precocious, quotable kids?”  In fact, I was asking myself that just yesterday, as I took little Rosamund, Prell, Diogenese, and Paris NotHilton to the vet.

Well, it seems that America’s Former Worst Mother is still doing book reviews for the Wall Street Journal. And although we don’t subscribe to this fine paper, it was kind enough to give us this free preview of her most recent piece:
Some years ago, my husband and I were seated at dinner with a well-groomed, 39-ish radio producer. She was intelligent and calm and wore, on her lapel, a large ceramic pin depicting an alligator poking its head out of a shiny white lavatory.
‘What kind of adult beautifies herself with a toilet?” I couldn’t help wondering. Presumably she thought the pin made her look springy and youthful and witty — ha-ha, reptiles in the sewers! — but in no way could she have been trying to appear urbane or sophisticated or any of the other sleek qualities to which adults …
And that’s all we get for free.
So, your mission, should you accept it, is to finish Meghan’s review, working in a mention of the book she’s reviewing (whatever it may be). Here’s my effort:
…In no way could she have been trying to appear urbane or sophisticated or any of the other sleek qualities to which sleek, sassy adults in upper-middle-class conservative Victorian society aspire. But just then Dyspepsia, our darling four-year-old, peed on this bitch’s coat, thus demonstrating to her the folly of wearing stupid toilet pins.
Then Dyspepsia provided the party with a cogent review of the Democratic tax reform policy by vomiting on the hostess’s shoes, and everyone agreed that my children were the cutest, smartest, bestest, children in the whole world. 
Well, the hostess seemed a little less enchanted with my moppets than everyone else, since she asked us to leave. But she hates children and probably runs a child prostitution ring out of her basement. So, I called the feds on her. Damned liberals!
And that brings us to Ann Coulter’s latest work, Godless, which is the equivalent of wearing a toilet on one’s shoulder. Although Ann has no children, and therefore can’t even pretend to have achieved anything worthwhile in her life, she does oppose evolution, so I recommend her book for all children aged 4 to 8.
Anyway, that does it for this edition of “Who Are These People, and Why the Hell Did You Remind me of Them?” Join us next time, when we’ll try to find out what happened to Debbie Daniels. Dr. Mike Adams, and George Bush’s popularity.

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