Hello again, mortals. It’s that time of year when we look forward to the next year even though it’s still this year and wonder what the coming year will bring us next year in the way of events, happenings, and perhaps chocolate in the new year.
She hates me for talking about my kids. Hmmm. Anyway, Gawker’s Richard recently wrote about the Duggar family and their 18 kids http://gawker.com/5115582/why-do-we-keep-congratulating-the-terrifying-duggar-family which made me think of this:
“You’re not old enough to be afraid of Virginia Woolf, Leo – and your face is still too small for your head”
That time of year is nearly upon us again. Yes, that special time when the clocks strike midnight and I start crying uncontrollably and start wishing that a rogue satellite would fall from the sky and hit me on the forehead and knock me unconscious until it was all over. Of course, I’m talking about the psychological dread that is New Year’s Eve.
“Rocky if it was written by Arthur Miller over a long weekend. Marisa Tomei is hot”.
Fuck-brained, relentless breeders the “Palin Family” got another little bundle of joy today as “Bristol” Palin squeezed out yet another mouth-breathing oxygen-stealer in the form of poor little “Tripp” Palin, who weighed in at seven pounds, four ounces, no chances. Yes. “Tripp”. Pity the child named after a walking accident. Feel sorrow for the jokes the poor little boy will endure throughout his long adolescence, his short adulthood, and his untimely death at the hands of a snowmobile with an erratic starter motor. Yes. I feel his pain.
Hello my little love-buttons. Another question for you (and it’s not “What can I stick on the blog in a panic even though no-one’s reading it right at this moment anyhow?”) Yes! It’s a question about buying stuff! In 2008! The last year you’ll be able to actually buy stuff for a long while!
Anyway – I’m not getting paid per word, so I’ll cut to the chase: –
What was the best and worst thing you bought in 2008?
Well, hello! How are all of my daughters this beautiful winter’s morn? Oh, and uh, you men, too. What up? Anyhoo, I’m Maya Angelou, and a great man once said, “All your daugthers are belong to [me] now.” Surely a truer sentiment now than the day it was first uttered. Between my speaking engagements at universities, television appearances, international peace missions and children’s birthday parties, I write poems for Wordsmoker that highlight my very favorite products and businesses.
This is what Chip Saltsman looks like, in case you’re travelling through DC and you see him on the sidewalk and you fancy driving head-first into him.
And this was what was said by -- of all people -- Newt Gingrich
So it’s Christmas Eve and I have to do that thing. You know what thing. That thing. That which is regarded as the most heinous, odious, sacrificial, Pagonistic ritual of all things on Christmas Eve. One that may leave you drained of corpuscle elasticity, depleted of mental dexterity, the bringer on of homicidal thoughts, a true act in self-mutilation, and ultimately the harbinger of lameness so acute it has no determined name to describe its loosening of bowel function sense of impending doom.
I mean, of course, going to the frickin mall.
Adambot has attempted an illegal operation and is no longer responding. Please check to see that he has not acquired sentience.
Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain Anthony Bourdain
In a landmark decision made just moments ago, George W. Bush has decided which present he will open tonight. He has chosen a ADJECTIVE NOT FOUND package, wrapped in green paper with white snowmen on it. Judging by AP photographs it is roughly 14 inches long, 9 inches wide and 3 inches deep. At first, George W. picked a considerably larger gift–a package the size of an M1 Abrams tank in the shape of an M1 Abrams tank. His father, George Sr., vetoed this decision and told him that this one “would have to wait until morning.”
