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 Amazon.com 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:

Don’t Wanna Grow Up – Preview  By Meghan Cox Gurdon

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.

Posted by s.z. on Thursday, July 13th, 2006 at 4:17 pm.

COMMENTS:

Man, whenever I read a Worst Mother article, I feel like I’m reading a satire.

Left by Yaoi Huntress Earth on July 13th, 2006

I think I know what happened to GW’s popularity. It’s in the toilet with that alligator. Where it belongs, with HIM!
So how did little PingPong do with her shots????

Left by BeginningToWonder on July 13th, 2006

OK, here we go, DJ MGG is in the hizzouse:
“‘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 aspire when they shave their pubes. It is trés chic, I have my housemaiden, Rosalito do it for me every Tuesday, though I’ve had to switch her to using a disposable razor since she kept getting this… look in her eye whilst wielding the straight razor. It was unsettling. My wonder-offspring, Imcontinenta helps by hand-whisking the shaving creme to an appropriate froth. What a brilliant girl she is turning out to be! Why, I subcontracted the reading of the book I am about to review, some crap by John Stossel to her and it’s only taken her fifteen minutes to become bored with the task and give up! I sent her to dip it in paraffin so that it will make a fine firestarter this winter. Then, we will need to tuck it away in a safe place where my beautiful, brilliant son, Argyle will not be able to find it-he is going through that phase with the matches and the gasoline and the arson. So precious! The other one, Eczema, has been molting rather heavily for the past few weeks, the poor dear. But, at least that give the children the opportunity to make dander angels.
“What? The book review? Oh!
“Well, it is Stossel, so it all has to do with the ‘invisible hand,’ and what the market will bear, or other such nonsense. I mean, it is really just so dreary! There are nearly never any arts and crafts projects in a Stossel book to keep the spawn busy, and I do not have time for a book like that! Well, I would continue my review, but little Cloaca is sodomizing the Yorkie again, and that means Rosalito is in for a whipping!”

Left by Marq on July 13th, 2006

“How Illegal Immigration is American Male Prostitutes.”
guess that explains the fake name
who lost his White House press perch over that awkward thing about being a gay escort
what, aWol fishing in the WH press pool again?
“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.”
like why they spent so little on me, why that judge wouldn’t invite me back to his chambers and why they won’t keep those low-dollar immigrant rentboys out of my neighborhood

Left by preznit giv me turkee on July 13th, 2006

What if those rowdy Syrian musicians were really on their way to a Talon News sponsored function–maybe to open for the Village People or Frankie Goes to Hollywood? You know what I’m leading up to, don’t you: “Trouser Snakes On A Plane”!!!

Left by trashfire on July 13th, 2006

“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.”
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the conservative approach to fighting terrorists!!! If you suspect another passenger is a terrorist, deceive the flight crew into removing yourself and your family from the plane, in the process inconveniencing all other passengers, and once you are removed from danger, allow the plane with the other passengers to then continue on to their doom.

Left by g on July 13th, 2006

What if the Syrian musicians had been playing antique European orchestral instruments? “Snakes” on a plane! Eh, Readers??
Don’t make me use footnotes, now.

Left by Kip W on July 14th, 2006

g, note that the writer hoped that Kevin Jacobsen had acquired the “courage” to fake a heart attack in order to be taken off the plane on a future flight, should there be swarthy people that scared him. That’s not courage, that’s a college-boy-dorkish prank that costs everyone time, money, and inconvenience. I grew up near a major airport, and the airline staff who comprised most of our neighbors told anecdotes about passengers like Kevin J., with great and justified disgust.
To cry wolf for attention like that is what Ethel Kennedy once did when she claimed her leg was broken, so she could find out what it was like to come down a ski slope on a toboggan. Only many more people (and plenty of jet fuel) would be involved.

Left by Mrs. Tarquin Biscuitbarrel on July 14th, 2006

“Gay escort”?
Why is it when a woman posts a naked picture of herself on the Internet, decribes her gentials and sexual kinks, and says she’s available for “escort services”, she is a “prostitute”, a “hooker”, or a “whore”?
And yet when a man does it, he’s an “escort”?
Or is this just more pandering to JimmyJeff, the persecuted martyr of the Wingnut Press Corps? (Will he be compared to Ken Lay, I wonder, in his obit?)

Left by Dorothy on July 14th, 2006

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 usually aspire. When I sniffed mightily at her choice of chest adornments, she quietly rose, picked up the signed copy of “Lily Alligator’s Adventures Under the City” she’d brought for my precious cherubs, and left. Hence, no book review; instead I will begin using this column to share tales of my charming family and the lovely adventures we share. I’ll call it The Ague Bog…

Left by tigrismus on July 14th, 2006

I yearn for the day when you’ll write that about Ann Coulter and Mickey Malkin….

Left by actor212 on July 14th, 2006

Oh God, I’ve been so long without an AWM fix. That felt good. Could we chip in and buy you a WSJ subscription so you can take apart her complete reviews? How often does she run them?
I’m serious: a good s.z. and TBogg AWM read is addictive. It’s blogcrack.

Left by David E. on July 14th, 2006

in tribute to momming and moms, i give you my humble contest entry.
__
Don’t Wanna Grow Up – Preview  By Meghan Cox Gurdon
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 would slander and steal to presume. I pinched my husband’s sleeve between my shaking fingers and I gave it an uncharacteristicly sharp tug. He answered my plea and glanced into the distress welling behind my well practiced visage.
With the most subtle of gestures, I pointed at the vulgar, degenerate slattern and the emblem of filth affixed to her harlot’s bosom. I mean really, how on this Lord’s blessed Earth are we expected to withstand the onslaught of such deviltry and pornographic filth? I have children! We put down our napkins and politely excused ourselves from the table. We bid our company farewells and I gathered the girls to my breast and hastened them outside. Once the door was shut between us and the harpy, boldly sporting an image of her master, a serpent emerging from the bowels of filth, I finally breathed.
Without a word my husband and I leaned over the yearning faces of our beloved flock, our family, and they held out their hands. My husband, my unflinching hero, took one each of their hands in his own. And to each in turn, he pricked a finger. And oh, my little angels, with not a cry or protest, they each stepped forward and made the sign of the cross, with the blood of their innocence on that cursed door. My youngest, little Chamberlain, asked me why the lady had to go to Hell and burn up with the devils. We prayed together for the entire ride home. Once there, we raced through the door into our sanctuary. I knew little Chambie would have to be first to receive the scouring and chafing of purification. The little ones are so vulnerable and trusting.
“Don’t Wanna Grow Up” shows us yet again how the secularists, liberals and pornographers are crippling our nation by perpetrating their agenda of tolerance, one that encourages all manner of sodomy and sin. They want to force women out of their homes and away from their families, to part them from their hearts and their wombs. They want to teach our children that any filthy sex act is fun and easy and that Jesus and the righteous are just boring and old fashioned. Well, I am old fashioned, I believe in the traditions that have kept us a strong and pure nation, unsullied by sinfulness until the sex people and feminists started burning their underthings and murdering innocent babies in the 1960s.
I strongly recommend “Don’t Wanna Grow Up”, it is vital to understanding the chasm of depravity that threatens to engulf our nation and our families. I know I’m looking forward to reading it.

Left by lazlo pink on July 15th, 2006

I dunno. You kinda gotta admire AWM and her complaints about what some other woman is wearing and how taaaaaaaaacky it is. Anyone want to make a bet on how likely AWM is to own a fish knicknack made entirely of shells?

Left by D. Sidhe on July 16th, 2006

AWM probably wears “jewelry” constructed by her children. I fondly remember the necklace made of garishly painted rigatoni that broke everytime someone hugged me.

Left by Mrs. Tarquin Biscuitbarrel on July 16th, 2006