The attacks have failed. Our forces are in disarray and unworthy of being called much more than a hysterical mob, throwing away their weapons, gibbering insanely, and running for their lives.
The War, I'm afraid, is now finally and irretrievably lost.
Despite our best efforts, fellow liberals, Christmas happened again.
But, on the upside, I got some really super cool shit! Including:
Yeah, that's right. My sisterknitted me a freaking Gryffindor House scarf! You know, to wear to quidditch matches, and such. How great is that?
The Rolling Rock, I had to supply myself.
Not only that, but check this out!
Yeah, bitches! A Penn State Nittany Lion Santa Hat!!!
Course, it wasn't all gravy. Once again, I failed to get what I really wanted:
If there was ever a gift that had my name on it, well, there it is. Maybe next year...
So, anyway. You take the good with the bad, the sweet with the sour. I got hats and scarves(and an IPod, too!), and Bill O'Reilly gets to pretend he, alone, stood up for something everyone and their Uncle Bob absolutely loves.
It takes a brave man to side with 100% of the people. He's like Sir Thomas More, if Sir Thomas Moore had been all angry and blotchy, and full of shit, and totally thumbs up for divorce. And the right wing nuts who listen to and watch and believe O'Reilly are just like the people who supported Sir Thomas More, if the people who supported Sir Thomas More were all crazy and stupid and cheering wildly when More got his head cut off.
What fools we were! How could we ever expect to defeat Christmas when it had such powerful, principled defenders? How could we ever expect to destroy Christmas when we weren't even fighting it? How could we have been so naive to think we could win a War Against Christmas when we were so damn busy celebrating Christmas???
For like a month.
Well, O'Reilly and the rest of the barking mad right wingers showed us. They defeated us again, and forced to us to continue enjoying something we look forward to all year. Those bastards.
With the way the O'Reillys and their insanely stupid right wing followers masterfully identify the enemy and brilliantly marshal their resources to fight meaningful battles, hell, it's no wonder we immediately caught bin Laden, rebuilt Afghanistan, and quickly and cheaply turned Iraq into a secular, western friendly democracy.
They're that good! They're that smart! Thank the sweet baby Jesus they're running the country!
My good friend, Mary, was wondering if I was feeling okay. And I am. I feel great. I'm a little bitter about that Texas A&M fumble late in the fourth quarter--I mean, it was third and two inside the Longhorns twenty. Christ, give it to the full back, right up the middle and send Penn State to the National Championship!
So that sucked.
But it didn't make me ill.
Actually, I've been great. I was just enjoying Thanksgiving with my family. In particular, with my little nephew Willie, who's only sixteen months old, but who I've taught to call me "Uncle Bob". There are any number of reasons I could give you for why I decided to teach Willie to call me Uncle Bob, but they'd all be lies. And the true reason would leave your minds crippled with shock and horror.
So, anyway, now I'm Uncle Bob. And Willie loves his Uncle Bob. Apparently, when I'm not even around, which is about 99.99% of the time, Willie shouts "Uncle Bob! Uncle Bob! Uncle Bob!" He shouts it enough that my dear sister, who has that empty, far away stare in her eyes that only front line combat veterans and mothers of one year olds have, says to me, "We're so happy you taught him to say 'Uncle Bob'".
And she says it in that way that lets me know that she wished I had choked myself as a child on that poorly constructed crib in our bedroom, rather than having grown up into the kind of man who would, for no good reason at all, teach her son to shout "Uncle Bob" seven hundred times a day.
So this pleases me.
She is, after all, my only sister. And I'm her only brother. And if I can bring her bizarre, inexplicable misery, I feel that my job is done. And done well.
And don't start with the moralizing. I'm her brother, for Christ's sake. When we were kids, she used to bite me. Hard.
Also, I love my sister. Nobody is sillier than my sister. She's given me more hiccups than the Latrobe Brewing Company. She's so ridiculously silly that I think every time she and I get together, even in our late thirties, and start giggling like four year olds, my father regrets once again that he didn't stop at one child.
And nobody in the world would ever possibly appreciate the absolute ridiculousness of her brother teaching her son to call him "Uncle Bob" more than my sister.
And I'm pretty sure, at a year and a half, my little nephew Willie is about as silly as his mom. And his Uncle Bob. And that pleases me, as well.
It's Thanksgiving. We give thanks for things. Mostly for stuff we're not thankful enough for the rest of the year. Why should I be any different?
This year, I give thanks for my wonderful and funny, and silly sister. And her excellent husband. And their funny and silly son, Willie.
Isn't she beautiful?
She's been my best friend for as long as I can remember. And I've never been thankful enough for that. So,this year, Brandi, I'm thankful. I'm thankful for a wonderful sister and a great friend, and I'm thankful that, even though you're grown up, moved away, and married, and have a home and a son of your own, I can still torture you.
BROOKLYN CENTER, Minnesota (AP) -- Police shut down a suburban shopping mall for several hours Saturday after screaming fans of the boy band B5 rushed the stage during a free concert.
Five people suffered minor injuries, police said.
More than 2,000 fans, mostly teenage girls, converged on Brookdale Center mall for the show, sponsored by the local Radio Disney station, KDIZ-AM. The band had only begun the second song when the chaos broke out and girls began rushing the stage.
"It just seemed like a girl frenzy," said Christopher Taykalo of Radio Disney. "A lot of young teenage girls who were trying to get close to their artists that they are huge fans of."
Seventy officers from 23 area communities responded the chaos. It took about 15 minutes for them to get the crowd under control and another 30 minutes to clear out the mall. The mall reopened later Saturday evening.
"I've never seen anything like it in my life," Jennifer Fullbright, 49, of Cottage Grove, told the Star Tribune of Minneapolis. She took her daughter and her daughter's friend to see the band.
B5 is a group of five brothers from Atlanta -- Dustin, Patrick, Kelly, Bryan and Carnell Breeding -- ages 10 to 17.
So, after being sick for like a month or so, I finally had to admit that my traditional healing method--“just ignore it; it’ll go away”—was not working. In fact, I seemed to be getting worse.
I know it sounds ridiculous. After all, it flies in the face of ten thousand years of masculine wisdom, passed down from father to son, generation after generation, like a precious heirloom: “Don’t be such a baby. Walk it off. You’ll be fine.”
My very good friend Elke sent me this disc that was stolen by a disgruntled ex-girlfriend. It's a pretty lousy Elvis album, and so I don't blame Elke for being ready to part with it. That's the same reason I never bothered to replace it after it was stolen from me.
Mssrs., All noble sirs highly paid solicitors find enclosed my signed divorce sad proceedings you endorce the burden of pity of will show in the people we used to know have you got enough strength to carry it off? Jacksons, Monk, and Rowe
But that doesn't stop Elke for being fantastic for giving it to me.
I read a really funny article a couple of years ago about this guy who was furious because his Tivo thought he was gay.
The guy had no problem with being gay. It's just that he wasn't gay.
And his Tivo was constantly taping programs that it thought he'd like,
and they were always about gay people or from the Lifetime Channel or
things like that.
Every day he would come home, turn on his Tivo, and say, "Just what are you trying to insinuate?"
I've been thinking about that a lot since I installed a new email
program on my computer. It works pretty well. For the most part, I'm
But it's got a junk mail filter option on it. And at first, I left the
junk mail filter off. Because I get a lot of email from unexpected
places and unexpected people. And I just don't trust a junk mail
filter to figure out what's what.
I figured I'd rather throw out the garbage than miss something from someone I'd like to hear from.
And, in the past, I've missed a couple of emails I think I'd really have liked to have gotten. So I'm told, anyway.
But after a while, I got so much junk mail and it was so annoying, that
I figured I'd rather miss an email I'd like to read than delete all
this crap I'm constantly deleting.
So I turned on my junk mail filter, and that didn't do shit. Nothing.
So I turned it up a little bit. That didn't do anything, either. So
I wrote a bunch of rules for my email--to be sensitive to certain kinds of messages--and I cranked my junk mail
filter up to the maximum, and that worked just great.
For instance, three minutes ago, I just got this very personal email:
And a very good morning to you! :) kate and karen almost naked for the first time Anal fucked brunette babe Brunette get public naked Hardcore bigs tits Juicy anime babes in action
And that's been going on since I got this terrific email program and it's junk mail filter.
Sure, sure, I could write all kinds of rules to send emails with the
words "naked", "fucked", "big tits", "anal" straight into the garbage,
but then, again, that would play havoc with my personal email. You know, from family. And friends.
So, anyway, again, at first, I thought this email program was a piece
of crap. I thought the junk mail filter was absolutely worthless.
But the more I try to tweak it, the more I try to get it to just delete
the emails that are patently obscene and utterly unwanted, the more I
resign myself to an increasingly unavoidable fact:
My email program likes this shit.
It doesn't think this crap is junk at all.
Barely post-teens and donkeys, pee flying, and hard core, furvert air
humping Disney characters...whatever! My email program is turned on!
I completely respect whatever makes consenting adults happy. In fact,
I think the federal government ought to pour billions of dollars into
any kind of research to discover more ways to make consenting adults
There simply are not enough consenting adults happy in America.
But this is my email program. It's in my home. And it's a freak.
You should see some of the shit it finally considers junk.
When Bush was..."re-elected", I was sure I would never be able to stand four more years. I didn't know if I would have to flee the country, or get a hobby, like heroin, or something, or what. But I just knew I didn't have the strength to endure four more years.
When I sat through a six hour seminar, featuring eight of the boringest speakers since Ben Stein, droning on and on about drafting commercial loan documents.
Four more years of Bush? Condi in 2008? Bring 'em on.