Huckabee knows something that mathematicians and most everyone else does not. In a surprising announcement this morning on MSNBC, Mike Huckabee stated that even though it is mathematically improbable for him to win the Republican nomination, he is going to continue on campaigning because “something could happen to John McCain” between now and the Republican National Convention. What is that something? McCain could drop the F bomb or call Obama a pineapple chucker. But what we all know he means is that McCain could have a stroke or drop dead any minute.
And how would Huckabee get this information? God told him.
In Huckabee’s twice daily (and three times on the Sabbath) conversations with God, he probably asks God if he should continue his campaigning. What do you think God is saying to Huck? A smart God would tell Huckabee to drop out so that he doesn’t make McCain look un-Conservative. He’d probably mention that miracles are for wine, loaves and fishes and not for elections. But that’s not what Huckabee is hearing. Huckabee hears, “Go the distance,” and inevitably, “If you build it, McCain will have a stroke.”
Now, my belief is that McCain has a better chance of saying “fuck” than dropping dead. He’s a tough s.o.b. no matter what Chuck Norris says. But… if you know God is on your side, anything is possible.
So if in some offhand chance, McCain does bite it before the Republican National Convention and Huckabee wins the nomination… what next? I assume that if God will take the time to off McCain, he would also want Huck to win the general election as well. Now that would take a miracle… unless Obama has a stroke too. Then Hillary would come down with prostate cancer and so on and so on until there’s no one left to run against him.
And if all that happens, you can bet for sure that I’m going to repent, vote for Huckabee and convert to whatever religion he tells me to in the 28th Amendment. Hallelujah Huckabee!!
In Paris... aim for the sign
We saw this warning sign in Paris along the river.
In the United States, we would build a four foot high barrier with a metal fence on top of it all along the length of the river. In Paris, they put up a sign and hope you have common sense. If you do find yourself heading for the dropoff... aim for the sign.
In the United States, we would build a four foot high barrier with a metal fence on top of it all along the length of the river. In Paris, they put up a sign and hope you have common sense. If you do find yourself heading for the dropoff... aim for the sign.
Republican Party to America: “We quit.”
As a Republican, I find myself wondering what the hell is going on. It is true my Republican affiliation has been increasingly fading and the closest fragment of the party I can hang my hat on is with the Log Cabin Republicans. (It’s tough to be an atheist, pro-choice Republican.)
I see you other Republicans. Hands clasped behind your backs. Innocently whistling skyward. Walking slowly backwards away from George Bush and the inevitable nominee, John McCain. You are giving up. Senators. Talking heads. The pundits, or as they will be called in the coming weeks, “punt-its,” have already dropped back 14 and a half yards and are praying for a Hillary nomination. Dust off the 1996 Playbook boys and change the date on the cover!
Oh sure, when it’s our troops fighting overseas we shake our fists and rant, “No Retreat!” But when we can’t find a Republican candidate that isn’t a Faux-Moderate or a Fundamentalist Kook, we start waving the white flag and digging four year trenches. It’s much easier to bring out Limbaugh’s re-runs, hope the Democrats screw up and hand us the elections in 2010 and 2012.
There are several reasons Republicans want to give up now. First off, we can see how our current silly candidates are caught in a winless battle with themselves. Everyone is playing nice because they realize that McCain is so fragile and it is way too easy to beat up on for his political past and present. Huckabee’s a douche. Even Ron Paul, who doesn’t have sheep’s chance in West Virginia, is a better Republican pick than McCain. I can’t wait for the Democrats’ commercials which will be filled with McCain’s own fatalistic quotes about jobs never coming back, War and a Middle East military presence lasting for 100 - 1000 years. You’ve heard the radio personalities say they’d rather vote for Hillary than McCain… how insane is that?
Second, Bush has utterly and completely left a mentally and fiscally, tattered and torn America behind and the person who attempts to change it is not going to make a lot of friends. So why should we take it on the chin when we’ve got the Dems to do it for us? Until we learn to confront Bush on his some of his ignorant policies and overspending, we are never going to get out from under his greasy, dead-eye determination shadow.
And finally, with the lackluster candidate and without a banner to stand behind, Republican turnout in November will be meager at best. Why even try? At most we are hoping for a Hillary nomination to bring out the Clinton-Hate vote. If Obama gets the nod, just stay in your trench and head for the safety of the internet.
Once the Dems finally pick a candidate (and quit hoping that they will start in-fighting,) McCain will fall apart. I’ll watch from the sidelines as McCain recants, re-remembers and sticks his lip out. All he has to stand behind now is War and Life and that just doesn’t cut it anymore.
If it comes down to Hillary vs McCain… I guess I, too, will be staying at home in my trench because I am a weak spine, denied entry to the Log Cabin Republicans, pro-choice, disenfranchised and disillusioned Republican. And if the opportunity arises, once I flip the switch to vote for Obama, I won’t even be that anymore.
I see you other Republicans. Hands clasped behind your backs. Innocently whistling skyward. Walking slowly backwards away from George Bush and the inevitable nominee, John McCain. You are giving up. Senators. Talking heads. The pundits, or as they will be called in the coming weeks, “punt-its,” have already dropped back 14 and a half yards and are praying for a Hillary nomination. Dust off the 1996 Playbook boys and change the date on the cover!
Oh sure, when it’s our troops fighting overseas we shake our fists and rant, “No Retreat!” But when we can’t find a Republican candidate that isn’t a Faux-Moderate or a Fundamentalist Kook, we start waving the white flag and digging four year trenches. It’s much easier to bring out Limbaugh’s re-runs, hope the Democrats screw up and hand us the elections in 2010 and 2012.
There are several reasons Republicans want to give up now. First off, we can see how our current silly candidates are caught in a winless battle with themselves. Everyone is playing nice because they realize that McCain is so fragile and it is way too easy to beat up on for his political past and present. Huckabee’s a douche. Even Ron Paul, who doesn’t have sheep’s chance in West Virginia, is a better Republican pick than McCain. I can’t wait for the Democrats’ commercials which will be filled with McCain’s own fatalistic quotes about jobs never coming back, War and a Middle East military presence lasting for 100 - 1000 years. You’ve heard the radio personalities say they’d rather vote for Hillary than McCain… how insane is that?
Second, Bush has utterly and completely left a mentally and fiscally, tattered and torn America behind and the person who attempts to change it is not going to make a lot of friends. So why should we take it on the chin when we’ve got the Dems to do it for us? Until we learn to confront Bush on his some of his ignorant policies and overspending, we are never going to get out from under his greasy, dead-eye determination shadow.
And finally, with the lackluster candidate and without a banner to stand behind, Republican turnout in November will be meager at best. Why even try? At most we are hoping for a Hillary nomination to bring out the Clinton-Hate vote. If Obama gets the nod, just stay in your trench and head for the safety of the internet.
Once the Dems finally pick a candidate (and quit hoping that they will start in-fighting,) McCain will fall apart. I’ll watch from the sidelines as McCain recants, re-remembers and sticks his lip out. All he has to stand behind now is War and Life and that just doesn’t cut it anymore.
If it comes down to Hillary vs McCain… I guess I, too, will be staying at home in my trench because I am a weak spine, denied entry to the Log Cabin Republicans, pro-choice, disenfranchised and disillusioned Republican. And if the opportunity arises, once I flip the switch to vote for Obama, I won’t even be that anymore.
Pat Robertson calls for Primary votes of tornado dead not be counted
VIRGINIA BEACH
Later in the broadcast, during a Primary Day discussion, Robertson claimed that the voters in
“I know this is painful for the families to hear, but if you voted for anyone other than a Christian, you have accepted God’s wrath, and that's the way it is, period.”
Later in the broadcast, Robertson clarified his position stating that while the votes of the deceased should count now, “…it will be very hard for them to vote in the election in November.”
How to write a “Let’s Get a Drink Letter”
Getting your lame ass friends out to get a drink can be a real problem. As I am an expert in this, let me help you to convince your friends to go out and grab a beer with you and possibly end up at the nudie bar.
Dear (insert friends’ names individually or use a small penis referenced general greeting to all),
I Introduction: Say hello to friends with a short passage about how things are going and how much work is a pain. Continue with discussing the weather and how Spring is in the air. Transition to paragraph two with a suggestion of how getting together would be a fine idea.
II The pitch: Sell the "drinking with friends tonight" idea. Ask when was the last time you saw each other and describe about the time when XXX got alcohol poisoning and woke up in Cuba with a 14 year old prostitute. Question their loyalty to work and suggest that puking at the 10:00am daily meeting is perfectly normal. Finish the paragraph with telling everyone that you plan to meet at (no later than 3:00pm) on (any day of week as long as there is one hour notice) at (insert local bar with Tavern or House in the name.) Suggest they bring a hot, unmarried friend who has a drinking problem and can't remember the name Doug or how bad he is in the sack.
III Sell! Sell! Sell! : Guilt them into submission by telling them that (friend who hasn’t been out in a while) will be joining the festivities. If they don't know who (friend who hasn’t been out in a while) is, fuck them. Make those cock sucking, sons of bitches regret that they ever crossed your path if they don't show up and I don't give a fucking shit if American Idol is on boo hoo fucking hoo.
IV Relax: Remind them again of the time and the place. Tell them that Doug will actually be there on time. Lie to them again by saying that Doug will buy the first round.
V Summation: Make up some lie about (single guy friend) finally getting engaged so that they really want to show up and see if it is true or not. Thank them for their time and tell them how you can't wait to see them tomorrow night.
Salutation:
Your name with nickname in "quotations"
Fake cell phone number just so they can't call to tell you they aren't coming (use the 555 in the phone number just to cheese them off.)
PS Quirky statement about something you forgot to say above but then by saying it, brings the whole letter to a close.
PSS Funnier statement about the PS above but with additional information about Greg's limited manhood girth.
Dear (insert friends’ names individually or use a small penis referenced general greeting to all),
I Introduction: Say hello to friends with a short passage about how things are going and how much work is a pain. Continue with discussing the weather and how Spring is in the air. Transition to paragraph two with a suggestion of how getting together would be a fine idea.
II The pitch: Sell the "drinking with friends tonight" idea. Ask when was the last time you saw each other and describe about the time when XXX got alcohol poisoning and woke up in Cuba with a 14 year old prostitute. Question their loyalty to work and suggest that puking at the 10:00am daily meeting is perfectly normal. Finish the paragraph with telling everyone that you plan to meet at (no later than 3:00pm) on (any day of week as long as there is one hour notice) at (insert local bar with Tavern or House in the name.) Suggest they bring a hot, unmarried friend who has a drinking problem and can't remember the name Doug or how bad he is in the sack.
III Sell! Sell! Sell! : Guilt them into submission by telling them that (friend who hasn’t been out in a while) will be joining the festivities. If they don't know who (friend who hasn’t been out in a while) is, fuck them. Make those cock sucking, sons of bitches regret that they ever crossed your path if they don't show up and I don't give a fucking shit if American Idol is on boo hoo fucking hoo.
IV Relax: Remind them again of the time and the place. Tell them that Doug will actually be there on time. Lie to them again by saying that Doug will buy the first round.
V Summation: Make up some lie about (single guy friend) finally getting engaged so that they really want to show up and see if it is true or not. Thank them for their time and tell them how you can't wait to see them tomorrow night.
Salutation:
Your name with nickname in "quotations"
Fake cell phone number just so they can't call to tell you they aren't coming (use the 555 in the phone number just to cheese them off.)
PS Quirky statement about something you forgot to say above but then by saying it, brings the whole letter to a close.
PSS Funnier statement about the PS above but with additional information about Greg's limited manhood girth.
Ask HolyJuan: A Drunken Friend
Dear HolyJuan,
I’d like to continue on the topic of getting laid as initiated by Marcie.
I went out drinking this past weekend. I was about to leave the bar when I spotted a chick that I knew. I stopped by her barstool and found that she was really drunk. I had been sporting a crush on this chick for some time, and decided to sit next to her.
After a little conversation, this chick basically threw herself at me. We made out for a while and she told me that she wanted me.
I was planning on taking her home when she slurred, “I love you Scott. I really do.”
I sat back while she kissed me and thought, “This is just too easy.”
After I made sure this chick had secured a ride home from one of her friends, I went home alone.
So HolyJuan, does this unusual moment of conscience on my part signal a new age of maturity and respect for others?, or is it an early sign of gayness? I trust your judgment implicitly. Please advise.
Best Regards,
Sleepy Scott
Dear Sleepy Scott,
This act of honor, thoughtfulness and chivalry is not within my capabilities to judge nor of which to make light. On my best day, I would have taken advantage of this drunken lady in two or three of her rum infused orifices. In my bestselling book, “Get Drunk, Get Wet, Sneak Out,” I describe this as the holy trinity of hook up situations: drunk friend, the barstool make-out and the “I love you” line. Maybe, at best, an average guy can get two of these criteria in a five year span at Ohio University. I’ve heard tell of someone getting an “I like you,” but this… this is completely unheard of. And on top of that, you ensure her safe departure.
Sleepy Scott… you honor me with your question, but I cannot answer your query. I can only ask a question of you: When you got home that night, did you cry yourself to sleep masturbating to gay porn or did pop in an old Transformers cartoon VHS tape and rub one out to that you big, no moist dick, wet dreaming, pussy?
Remember, regret is for the morning, not that night.
Love,
HolyJuan
PS Oh yeah, and that “trusted friend” who drove your girl home that night… he banged her while your tears dripped on your belly and intermingled with the half-kids that filled your belly button. The light from the television and Optimus Prime’s shiny metal skin would have cast a reddish glow upon your pasty, white, unlaid skin.
I’d like to continue on the topic of getting laid as initiated by Marcie.
I went out drinking this past weekend. I was about to leave the bar when I spotted a chick that I knew. I stopped by her barstool and found that she was really drunk. I had been sporting a crush on this chick for some time, and decided to sit next to her.
After a little conversation, this chick basically threw herself at me. We made out for a while and she told me that she wanted me.
I was planning on taking her home when she slurred, “I love you Scott. I really do.”
I sat back while she kissed me and thought, “This is just too easy.”
After I made sure this chick had secured a ride home from one of her friends, I went home alone.
So HolyJuan, does this unusual moment of conscience on my part signal a new age of maturity and respect for others?, or is it an early sign of gayness? I trust your judgment implicitly. Please advise.
Best Regards,
Sleepy Scott
Dear Sleepy Scott,
This act of honor, thoughtfulness and chivalry is not within my capabilities to judge nor of which to make light. On my best day, I would have taken advantage of this drunken lady in two or three of her rum infused orifices. In my bestselling book, “Get Drunk, Get Wet, Sneak Out,” I describe this as the holy trinity of hook up situations: drunk friend, the barstool make-out and the “I love you” line. Maybe, at best, an average guy can get two of these criteria in a five year span at Ohio University. I’ve heard tell of someone getting an “I like you,” but this… this is completely unheard of. And on top of that, you ensure her safe departure.
Sleepy Scott… you honor me with your question, but I cannot answer your query. I can only ask a question of you: When you got home that night, did you cry yourself to sleep masturbating to gay porn or did pop in an old Transformers cartoon VHS tape and rub one out to that you big, no moist dick, wet dreaming, pussy?
Remember, regret is for the morning, not that night.
Love,
HolyJuan
PS Oh yeah, and that “trusted friend” who drove your girl home that night… he banged her while your tears dripped on your belly and intermingled with the half-kids that filled your belly button. The light from the television and Optimus Prime’s shiny metal skin would have cast a reddish glow upon your pasty, white, unlaid skin.
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