Politico: Witchy-Poo

Ask my friend Joanne what my favorite word is and she’ll instantly say, “Cunt!”.  Well, maybe she wouldn’t say it, but she’d know it and she’d be right.  I loathe political correctness and refuse to change my verbology to comfort the insecurities and uncomfortability of others.  That being said, this woman defines the word CUNT, with a capital C.U.N.T.~

This succubus has a name, and it’s Shirley Nagel, from Grosse Pointe Farms, Michigan, and she is a shrew; an uneducated steaming pile of shit with the audacity to inflict her warped sense of self-righteousness onto the innocence and naivete of children, destroying their night of levity, frolicking and joy.  Who does she think she is?  

Of course she has every right (you remember ‘rights’, right?  Those are the things that have systematically been decimated these past 8 years by the American Taliban and what’s sure to continue if Nagel’s wishes come true) to vote and support who and how she wants to.  But to follow the path of the mendacious, repugnant, racist, fear-mongering McShame/Failin’ campaign is one thing – an adult choice.  To wreak it upon children is evil incarnate. 

Could you imagine the Hindenburg-like cries of the right-wing pundits if an Obama supporter did this same thing?  I could hear Rush Limbaugh (ironic, since Rush Limbaugh can’t even hear Rush Limbaugh these days) weeping indecipherably into his microphone about what sick minds liberals possess!  Bill O’Reilly would have an on-air breakdown (after sexually harassing yet another assistant.  Allegedly…)!  Monkey Michelle Malkin would attribute it to a Bill Ayers conspiracy or the evil underground Socialist uprising sure to come in an Obama presidency.

But the craziest thing of all?  This woman was a TEACHER!  And if you are to believe the comments from various posters, she was batshit crazy then, too.  One ‘former student’ says,

That bitch is nuttier than a fruitcake. She came to school one day with a necklace made of garlic trying to “ward of the darkness”. And the police had to escort her out of the school the day she got fired.

Another chimes in,

On top of the garlic necklace, she cursed out and was about to fight a 65 year old woman.
She came to work drunk all the time. Then there was a food fight and she got hit in the arm with a donut. Next day she came to work with a black eye and a sling saying she was gonna sue the school and she took like a month off, lmao.

I know, I know…who knows if these stories are true (you always have to be cautious of any commenter on blogs.  Not MINE, of course!)?  But it’s not far-fetched to believe that crazy is as crazy does.  I mean, it doesn’t bode well when a former-educator has the handwriting of Corky Thacher:

This retard could be your grandmother, although I DO smell a Republican Party VP nominee in her future!

A strongly advise Hansel & Gretel to stay away from Belanger Avenue next year.

Religulous: Your God

What a godsend!

Says Richard Dawkins, author of “The God Delusion“:

“Religion is accustomed to getting a free ride – automatic tax breaks, unearned respect and the right not to be offended, the right to brainwash children. Even on the buses, nobody thinks twice when they see a religious slogan plastered across the side. This campaign to put alternative slogans on London buses will make people think – and thinking is anathema to religion.”

Amen.

Music Box: Sistah Is Doing It For Herself!

My friend Jim sent this to me with the subject line ‘GASP’.  Indeed.  Not sure if this is fascinatingly scary, as I replied to him, or scarily fascinating (there is a difference, after all).  In any case, ya gotta admire his, er, flexibility, mimicry and talent.  Yeah, talent.

And Beyonce got nothin’ on her.  Sistas are doing it for themselves!!

Music Box: Presidential Debate (Nashville Edition)

I know it appears that, seemingly, My New Boyfriend is morphing from a momentary place for hilarity and levity to a political ranting pit stop.  My apologies, but I can’t deter my passions sometimes.  So, to even things out, here’s a juxtaposition of both.

Here, in 3 minutes, is last night’s Nashville Presidential debate/song and dance.  Usually, when asked “So, who won the debate?” my answer is “Whoever you’re voting for”.  Last nights victor was this brilliant young man from New York named Michael.  You need to spelunk his YouTube page for other strokes of genius.  Check it out here ~  SCHMOYOHO

Enjoy.  And one last thing ~ I dare you to just try to STOP humming “Who’s gonna work it out, baby, who’s gonna work it out…” It won’t work.   Oh, and if you wanna to sing along (and you will), he has the lyrics on his YouTube page~

Politico: Les Misbarack

“Les Miserables” – one of my 5 or so favorite musicals – ended with pretty much every Revolutionist perishing, so I hope that this video ~ as hilarious and clever as it is ~ is not indicative of what’s to come.  Let’s hope Act 2 of the upcoming presidential election ends on a sunnier note than the fates of 99% of the characters in the play. 

It’s a stirring, depressing, monumental musical (the 1987 original, not the recently closed revival) and “One Day More” ends Act 1. 

(It was a stroke of genius to have Putin…I mean Palin…as Madame Thenardier and McCain as Javert. How apropos!) 

Picture it, November 3rd 2008…

Music Box: Ghetto Unfabulous – Lisa Marie Presley w/Elvis Presley “In The Ghetto”

 

 

I’m not sure what’s worse – Lisa Marie pulling a Natalie Cole (ugh), performing necrophilia with her father and his canon; deciding to utilize the most racist song-masqueraded-as-social-commentary he (or anyone) ever recorded; or the director’s decision to fill the video with images of babies with guns, while a tear trickles down Lisa’s cheek. All in the name of New Orleans charity (a noble gesture) and the 30th anniversary of the death of the King of Rock N Roll. I know, I know, Chuck Berry ain’t dead, but I think you know what I mean.

 

Idiot Box: I Want My Gay TV

Ahhh…TV rarely gets as gay as this anymore (I mean, besides Bravo, HGTV and American Idol, of course). Enjoy these lavender nuggets, first aired in the early 80s, at the time when the Chelsea Piers were a breeding ground for infectious diseases (sorta still is), Times Square was a vile den of iniquity, San Francisco was the ninth circle of hell and everything gay on TV was masqueraded in veils of homolicious masquerade balls. Warning: after watching these you might start yearning for multi-colored hankies, poppers and assless chaps, not-to-mention spelunking your closet for that old vinyl copy of the ‘Dreamgirls’ Broadway OCR.