. . . asking my doctor for a Wellbutrin prescription, to balance out the Prozac. But, you know—what was I thinking? I must have been on drugs. Jeff's idea is much better.

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Wow. I've been away from Bombay Sapphire for a while now, just drinking plain Tanqueray. But Sapphire was on sale, so I bought a little. I was probably still drinking mini-dirty martinis last time I had Sapphire around, but its strong gin taste is a bit much for a gin and tonic. I deliberately make them pretty weak, with no more than an ounce of gin in each, and the Bombay has a rather uneasy truce going with the tonic and lime: it's as if it wants to be in a martini. I see why I was fond of it at one time: the juniper taste can knock you over if you let your guard down.

I need a lot of hydration these days, so I'm not too interested in martinis. Still, I should have one more while the Bombay is still in the house. The stuff just begs to be mixed up with a little vermouth and olive brine. Who am I to argue?

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:56 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Pretty hot for a Saturday; thank you, Cold Fury. (Yes, this is the first time I've paid for an outside ad; they are awfully cost-effective over there. I decided to buy their inexpensive ads, so I can continue charging an arm and a leg for mine. You should buy one of mine, now. Or I won't have a happy 2006, and it'll be all your fault.)

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:49 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 Hmnmm, must try one, or both Just to make you happy, you know.

Posted by: Rae at January 08, 2006 10:36 AM (4YdLE)

2 When Attila Girl's happy, everybody's happy!

Posted by: Attila Girl at January 08, 2006 11:26 AM (zZMVu)

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I remark gleefully to my mother. "I got a bleach stain on my favorite black cords. See here, where it used to be? And I filled it in with a black marker. You can't even tell."

"Yup," she agrees. "It looks fine. Sometimes I have to do that, too."

I put the pants back in the drawer. "You know, theoretically, one shouldn't ever buy clothes that aren't either white or black."

"Don't be silly," she replies. "You can buy clothes that are in any color at all, so long as you have a pen in that same color."

It's not often that I have such a pure appreciation for my mother's genius.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:26 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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I live in the U.S., and I had the idea that there were certain last names that granted one a license to more or less unlimited drink and lechery, and automatically excuse any consequences related thereto.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:19 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Jeff of BA seems slightly irritated at the scandal that erupted when Britain's Gay and Lesbian Humanist Association suggested that Islam was homophobic, a statement I cannot see as anything but empirically true, but caused an outcry for its putative bigotry.

In a letter that starts, "Dear Stupid British Homos," he reminds us that

While you queens have been frauleining about gay marriage, homos under barmy Islam have been crushed, hung, stoned, & beheaded. I notice that 60% of British Muslims want Shariah law. Have you seen their birthrate compared to non-Muslim Brits? Maybe GLHA should start running more timely articles like Scaffold-Proof Hair Mousse & Fabulous Accessories from Neck to Toe!

George Bernard Shaw, that pacifist flaneur, said if the Nazis landed, he'd welcome them as tourists. New flash, sisters: the tourists are already in the house. Under Shariah, you'll really be giving head, & not in a good way.

And I could say the same for a lot of idiotic quasi-feminist chicks, who don't quite seem to realize it's hard to live up to your human potential when you're denied education, beaten, kept under house arrest, swaddled in a desert clime, and occasionally murdered for the crime of having been raped.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 01:20 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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1 I could say the same for a lot of idiotic quasi-feminist chicks SELF-HATER!

Posted by: Darleen at January 07, 2006 11:18 AM (FgfaV)

2 occasionally murdered for the crime of having been raped Or occasionally murdered because you might commit adultery like an elder sibling did. Can't be too careful, you know...darn females! Wait...I thought the reward for "martyrdom" was 72 virgins? what's wrong with that picture? Women are no good in the here and now, but they're perfectly fine in the afterlife???

Posted by: I R A Darth Aggie at January 07, 2006 03:45 PM (1hM1d)

3 As I love to point out, Christian and Jewish martyrs get experienced women who know what they're doing in the sack; the fact that Muslims are stuck with virgins shows that God doesn't like them quite as much.

Posted by: Attila Girl at January 07, 2006 06:09 PM (zZMVu)

4 You're all jumping to conclusions here - what makes you think the virgins are female? Or even bipedal?

Posted by: Steve Skubinna at January 07, 2006 09:09 PM (j4Cpd)

5 Steve, you slay me.

Posted by: Attila Girl at January 07, 2006 09:37 PM (zZMVu)

6 Hopefully with fully developed vaginal and anal dentata...

Posted by: Darrell at January 07, 2006 09:38 PM (itie5)

7 The best pic about this subject was the kamikaze bomber arriving in the after life and being told "Actually, *you're* the virgin."

Posted by: John at January 08, 2006 06:33 PM (3z9W/)

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This would be the perfect time to bomb Iran back to the pre-nuclear age; they won't be expecting it just now.

Love,

Joy

Would everyone stop looking at me like that?

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My mood swings were more violent than usual yesterday; I went from being giddily happy to cranky as hell, secretly hoping someone would cross me so I could eviscerate them.

Part of it probably comes from writing about some of my experiences as a teenager, and letting a few emotional genies out of that bottle. Some of the rest is probably the letdown I experience after spending time with my mother, since she often absorbs a lot of emotional energy.

And the rest, I must conclude, has to do with hormones. It usually makes me edgier when I realize that I'm edgy for female-specific biochemical reasons—and that's the reason I went back on the pill for a time—but I'm just not interested in taking any more drugs than I absolutely have to right now. Besides, I'd like to track my menopausal progress.

So I'll have to learn to surf this particular wave. Preferably without maiming any of my near and dear.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 12:04 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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1 One day I'll learn how to set up one of those *VOTE!* blurbs. Then I'll run one that says, Is Little Miss Attila allowed a PMS day here and there? ***VOTE!*** Yes___ No___ I bet you'd take it in a landslide.

Posted by: k at January 07, 2006 01:18 PM (ywZa8)

2 Unfortunately, the vote that really counts is you-know-whose. And goodness knows what he'd say. Therefore, I haven't asked.

Posted by: Attila Girl at January 07, 2006 06:16 PM (zZMVu)

3 That's one of those questions you don't want to ask unless you already know the answer.

Posted by: k at January 07, 2006 09:07 PM (M7kiy)

4 There's an old Jewish truism--I believe it comes from Talmudic law [someone fact-check me, here] to the effect that if you ask a question, you're taking responsibility for hearing the answer. So: if you don't want to know, don't ask.

Posted by: Attila Girl at January 07, 2006 09:41 PM (zZMVu)

5 oh, YES. I'm going to remember that one. I have a certain neighbor who really needs to hear it. Here's part of what led to a cooling of what could have been a nice and mutually beneficial friendship: He'd ask me questions about himself - I'd answer very diplomatically, gently, but truthfully - and he'd have a temper tantrum at me. Even call me really nasty anti-female names. Then when I quietly said, --Not allowed, guy-- he'd reply, --Oh, that was just a figure of speech! don't be so sensitive! ?!? Wait. Which one of us had the temper tantrum again? over a gentle answer to a question, instead of over name-calling and such? Who's being over-sensitive here? He set me up. He plays out these scenes that have nothing to do with me, but instead with his parents and so forth, people from his past. It's so textbook obvious it's kind of pathetic. Still, those are games I have no desire to play. Now he wonders why I don't visit any more. And some mutual friends - get this - feel like I may have done HIM wrong. I'm under no obligation to anyone to tolerate temper tantrums and verbal viciousness. Even if they were *earned* somehow. Which they weren't. That one little setup, with the three sets of friends [me, the neighbor, and the mutual-friend couple caught in between] could fill a whole book with boundary issue discussions. Meanwhile, not being either parent or therapist to this character, I've no interest in his childishness, and no responsibility to *help* him. He must take responsibility for helping himself. And I go back to being the courteous, friendly, ordinarily-helpful neighbor I was from the beginning. Same limits. Reset. Which is what seems to confuse everyone most of all. *sigh* So you see why I love your truism.

Posted by: k at January 08, 2006 10:37 AM (ywZa8)

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. . . seem to be concerned that he not take in any more innocent people with his warped execution of (otherwise conventional) Christianity.

And from the caption on the photo, it looks like they're, well, annoyed at him.

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Professor Purkinje used to like to talk about how he was lied to when he was young: "all my life I was told that science was really, really hard, and getting a girl pregnant was really, really easy. It turns out that science is really, really easy, and getting my wife pregnant was really, really hard."

Ditto on the getting pregnant part. Sheesh.

But the other thing I've been lied to about is wallpaper. For years people have told me that getting wallpaper off of walls is really, really hard. And not only is it easy, it's also rather fun.

All this floral crap on my walls is toast.

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but they shouldn't.

Just think of North Korea and Iran as very large aspirin factories.

Hat tip: one of my former comrades-in-cultism.

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An editorial by a friend of mine who leans leftward and might be regarded as a present-day conventional liberal (as opposed to those like Dean Esmay, Jeff Goldstein, and this author, who call themselves classical liberals).

Terrible news about the miners in West Virginia. I was awake, of course, and watching when CNN broke the news that initial stories of twelve survivors were wrong and, in fact, there was only one survivor. Over on MSNBC, they were running tape of an eariler press conference on the subject, and on FOX a panel of conservatives were assuring each other that the scandals surrounding the White House and Republican congressmen weren't really scandals and wouldn't affect the Administration or the Republican grip on Congress.



Only CNN was live. Only CNN had the story. An astonished Anderson Cooper broke the news of a single survivor after a women ran down from the Baptist Church where miner's families were gathered and blurted the distressing news to him.



The New York newspapers, which are put to bed before 3 a.m., when the news of the "miscommunication" broke, all ran headlines like "ALIVE" (the New York Daily News).



But again, experience and class tells. The New York Times ran the story saying that families had told them twelve miners were alive, but they (the Times) were unable to confirm it. It seems the other papers published the news as fact, whereas the Times did not.



CNN and The New York Times take it in the balls about every fifteen minutes on FOX and conservative talk radio, where they are called un-American, pro-terrorist and things even more vile. They are favorite targets of the Right wingnuts. It's all bullshit, of course.



Last night, CNN and the New York Times showed why they are the preeminent news sources, world-wide. They are the best at what they do, and the fact that they're not perfect detracts not one whit from that.

I'll remind everyone here that this friend of mine has been very kind to me in a lot of ways. So, sticking to the facts, how would you begin to quantify the degree of error in various news sources? If you accept the premise that we all want to believe what we want to believe—and would prefer to get our information from organs that share our respective slants—how would you cast doubt on either my friend's conviction about the New York Times, or my own?

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I hate to admit it, but I love to watch the ever-changing Google graphics. As a matter of fact, that's one disadvantage to being a Mac user: being able to access Google directly from the browser means we sometimes miss the "illo du jour."

Today it was even funner than usual (copy editors may use words such as "funner"; civilians, of course, are forbidden to do so):

I must admit that it took me a moment to figure out what it was, but after I looked at the two o's, I knew. It's in honor of Louis Braille's birthday. Here's more.

UPDATE: In the comments section at the above link, one reader produced this braille key.

That's one of those things I'm happy to pay taxes for, by the way: services to the blind.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 05:58 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Fearless mythbuster.

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More depressing news: a young actor, Lillo Brancato, Jr., took part in what he claims he thought was a small crime: breaking and entering. A gun battle ensued, and another man was killed. Says Brancato:

“If I would have known, I wouldn’t have allowed him in my car,” Brancato said. “Imagine, we get pulled over and I get caught with an armed felon in my car. Since I’ve been in the movies, it would have instantly drawn attention.”

Brancato said he might take the witness stand at trial to tell the jury “how horrible I feel about my stupidity.”

Stephen at Crime Blog wonders about Brancato's sincerity; I wonder how plausible it was that he attempted to burglarize an occupied apartment on the understanding that he and his accomplice were unarmed.

The motive? Apparently drug-related.

I know Jeff Harrell took a lot of grief for this impassioned post about the evils of addiction to drugs. I gave him some grief myself. And I'm still a libertarian who thinks a lot of the secondary evils of drug use will disappear if they are legalized. But the kernel of truth in Jeff's diatribe is this: no food junkie or television junkie or credit card junkie ever killed someone else by accident in pursuit of their chosen compulsion.

We cannot say the same about either alcohol or street drugs (though perhaps, accounting for crimes of passion, we can say it about sex and love addiction).

There is no cost-free public policy to be had, one way or the other.

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I don't know what my problem is. I shouldn't have a hangup about house paint, but it does seem to trigger that weird hand-wringing behavior. This is the sort of thing I see in my mother: she can make the important decisions. But small choices drive her to distraction, because she's afraid of getting beaten up over having done The Wrong Thing. For good reason, because as soon as she does something she beats herself up for it.

Oddly, this leads to moments of paralysis.

When I was 15 or 16 I painted my bedroom, and it was great. It had always been an awful dark yellow color, and I found a nice off-white that had some yellow in it (no, I don't think it was Navajo white, but it was likely similar--it reflected the light in a room that generally received only filtered light).

Ordinarily I can chant The Mantra: if you don't like it, you can always change it. It can be painted over. Painted over. Painted over.

But in this house I have wallpaper in nearly every room. With two exceptions I despise the patterns, but I haven't quite had the courage to take it down. I've even considered trying to paint over the wallpaper, since a small fringe minority of home-improvement people claim it can be done. Cooler heads prevailed, however, and I eventually realized that the only path to nice walls went right through the valley of nasty solvents, weird tools, and tremendous amounts of elbow grease. After which I would have to climb Mount Decision, where the paint samples live, and get married to pick a color.

It's finally happening in the hall bathroom. There's a little seam that's been lifting a bit, so a corner has peeled up ever so slightly. It's near the floor, barely noticeable. But I've known it was there. It's been there for months.

Yesterday I took that corner and just started pulling. The top layer of the wallpaper peeled right up, leaving a material reminiscent of drywall. I'll be cleaning the rest of this up papery stuff up with solvent and a scraper.

Today I bought to small paint samples. I'll clean up a section on each of the walls and paint a few large patches. Then when my color consultant comes over to help me make the final pick, I'll have an idea where I'm going with this. I'm thinking of a sponging effect, or a combing effect. Or even the walls in my main color with my accent color as a stencil around the edges. I guess I'll have to get a third color for the molding in any event.

But in that first moment, when you take a corner of the horrid floral wallpaper and just tug, there's no deluding yourself that "if it doesn't work, I'll just do it over." After all, some poor soul was hired by the previous owners to accomplish something exquisitely that—to my mind—should never have been done in the first place. And I'm undoing all his/her work.

My first act of vandalism—the peeling, the tearing, the "no turning back"—horrified me at first, until I saw how much better the walls looked without that cluttered, annoying pattern on 'em.

"Time to murder and create." I'm ready.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 11:21 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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. . . if I'm going through menopause. I'm definitely not pregnant, and I haven't taken the pill in 6-8 weeks or so.

Nothing. No hot flashes. No cramping. No achey boobs. Zip.

And I'm 43.

What if this is one of those strange areas of my life wherein I just experience dumb luck out of nowhere? To tell you the truth, I'm kind of ready for it.

UPDATE: Spoke too soon. My uterus is saying hello, so I've taken a few Tylenol and await the red tide tomorrow. I hate chicks who complain about this stuff, so I'll just point out that I got my first period at the age of 14, and over the past 29 years the novelty value has worn off. It turns out the whole thing is rather inconvenient.

And, no: a few free lunches/dinners haven't really made up the difference. Not as a practical matter.

(Hey, boyz: do I need to flag these posts? Should there be an "icky girl stuff" warning, as K uses? Please advise.)

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:45 PM | Comments (18) | Add Comment
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1 Joy, Define "dumb luck". Take the pregnancy test (I know you said you aren't, but...). Then consider stress. My wife sometimes missed or went 5-7 weeks when she was wound tight. She also didn't believe she was pregnant with our son for about two months. We'd been playing roulette for about three years at that point. Then our daughter surprised us with her arrival 19 months later. We had thought one (or both) were incapable of having kids. We married at 30 and 28 respectively; we were not monks prior to that. If it is that, some go easily. But check with the doc when you get a chance. Other things can cause stops. BTW - I have four older sisters, so "girl stuff" is pretty easy for me. I lost whatever was left during my active duty time; I had several troops that were women and worked for a bunch. One joker noted that I had an emergency box of Kotex in my field kit - until he had to come borrow some for one of his kids that had forgotten. It was precious. SGT Dave

Posted by: SGT Dave at January 03, 2006 10:04 PM (blfs0)

2 Well, I've taken two store-bought tests, and they were the extra-sensitive kind. But at the end of this month I run out of the good insurance and have to go back to the low-cost plan, so maybe I should drop by the OB-GYN's office. Actually, either option would be "dumb luck."

Posted by: Attila Girl at January 03, 2006 10:38 PM (zZMVu)

3 Oh, and I thought all soldiers and Marines carried at least pads, if not tampons, strictly for their value in wound-treatment; as I understand it, the California Highway Patrol has carried Kotex for years.

Posted by: Attila Girl at January 03, 2006 10:42 PM (zZMVu)

4 Joy, I didn't have pads; they were tampons because that is what the girls used. I have seen it; though they usually choose the generics instead of name brands. We have moved to some really good new stuff, though. There is a powder and a chemical-impregnated pad that will stop bleeding faster than a pressure bandage. I have two friends who would have died without the new kits. Really good stuff, should be on the civilian market really soon (though I am "moving" a few packets to my private first aid kit when I get home). SGT Dave

Posted by: SGT Dave at January 04, 2006 12:47 AM (blfs0)

5 Hey, boyz: do I need to flag these posts? Should there be an "icky girl stuff" warning, as K uses? Please advise. I don't think you need to. But it's been a long time since I was a boy - I just turned 43 myself - and "icky girl stuff" doesn't bother me too much these days.

Posted by: I R A Darth Aggie at January 04, 2006 09:33 AM (1hM1d)

6 The OB GYN can do a hormone level test to let you know for sure.

Posted by: gail at January 04, 2006 09:45 AM (jMroL)

7 43 and use the word "boyz" and gets all red about icky girl stuff. Boy we really have created an indulged, childish, I'll never grow up country!

Posted by: laura at January 04, 2006 10:09 AM (QkVgy)

8 Are you telling me it's time to ditch the "Hello Kitty" handbag?

Posted by: Attila Girl at January 04, 2006 10:28 AM (zZMVu)

9 Don't ditch "Hello Kitty." It is just becoming popular with little ones again. I'd rather not see these discussions, just like I'd prefer if The Anchoress didn't talk about her drooping boobs, but it is your blog.

Posted by: olddawg at January 04, 2006 11:56 AM (7nc0l)

10 Well if you're asking me, you're asking the guy who gets himself (and his readers) in stitches over the "tampon angel" craft at Christmastime, so...

Posted by: Desert Cat at January 04, 2006 03:20 PM (B2X7i)

11 You can talk about the icky girl stuff. Just don't make it an all "Icky Girl Network". It would get boring real quick. And by the way, 43 is not too old to have the bunny die.

Posted by: Jack at January 04, 2006 03:35 PM (1yMIg)

12 Yeah, DC: I saw that post. I actually thought the tampon angel was convincing, but couldn't imagine who was bored enough to want to create tampon crafts. I mean, all those women who buy a big box of supplies and then get blindsided by menopause should just give them to a younger woman and get on with their lives. (Actually, keep 2-3 in your bathroom just in case, okay? More if you're my mother. Though maybe not any more. Yay!)

Posted by: Attila Girl at January 04, 2006 03:47 PM (zZMVu)

13 I don't object to the icky girl stuff. It fuels my schadenfreude at having much better designed internal plumbing. But heck, for disgusting personal observations, when I went to Officer Candidate School in 1979 I didn't have a bowel movement for the first four days. Not constipation, just didn't feel the need. Noticed it at day three and got a little concerned, on day four everything was back to normal and I just wrote the episode up to stress. There, don't you fell better now about posting icky girl stuff?

Posted by: Steve Skubinna at January 04, 2006 06:14 PM (j4Cpd)

14 I had a bad breakup in my 20s. Got dumped by someone I'd pinned some piece of my ego on (for reasons I can't figure out, decades later) and I found it hard to eat. I dropped below 100 pounds, and by then my mother and I were on speaking terms again, so I was sort of trying to hide it from her lest she push more food at me. She noticed it anyway, though I'm not sure she understood how low the number got (it was the cliched 98 lb). Anyway, during this time I forced myself to eat lots of beef and green salad, figuring that I could use the protein and minerals. And I reminded myself, over and over, that as long as I was shitting occasionally, I'd be just fine. [surveys chunky middle-aged belly] Better by far to be ten pounds over vs. ten pounds under.

Posted by: Attila Girl at January 04, 2006 06:28 PM (zZMVu)

15 My wife's time of the month was so regular that this conversation actually happened: She says: "I'd like to do this and that on Sunday." I says: "Can't. You start Saturday. You'll be too cramped up to get out of bed Sunday." She says: "Oh."

Posted by: John at January 04, 2006 07:00 PM (Jo+I7)

16 *ahem* Now just because that extra-big box got acquired just before the first misses, didn't mean I'd never need them again. As I discovered. And by next Christmas, if that same box is still hanging around, DC's got great ideas on what to do with them. Not just the tampon angels, but a link to a bunch of other tampon crafts. Which, of course, can lead to even more. Besides, what if one of those putative Younger Ladies comes to visit and finds herself All Out? Maybe she'll need more than 2 or 3. Don't worry. That big ol' box isn't an albatross around my neck. I've gotten rather fond of it.

Posted by: k at January 05, 2006 06:34 PM (6krEN)

17 I wasn't directing that just at you! I'd heard the same story from a few other quarters. I think I'd started to consider it a sort of archtypical thing, like the Murphy's Law of the uterus. Sorry, K!

Posted by: Attila Girl at January 06, 2006 01:33 AM (zZMVu)

18 OH! Life as an Accidental Hermit. Having seen no other references to that Murphy's Law of the Uterus experience, looks like I subconsciously assumed I was the only one. As usual, it turned out to be a silly assumption. It was still funny anyway. The mental image of a giant-sized box of tampons around my neck, slowly blooming themselves into Tampon Angels as next Christmas approaches...some escaping their confines and perching on the edge of the box like a ladybug, poised for flight...

Posted by: k at January 06, 2006 05:00 AM (M7kiy)

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. . . that when I say "fuck the Palestinians," I do not mean anything like "fuck every person who lives in 'Palestine.'" There are innocents there, being exploited by those who are determined to see Israel brought down.

So, fuck the Palestinians, and fuck every anti-Jewish asshole who is using the situation to serve his or her agenda.

Fuck those who use suffering of others to produce further bloodshed.

(By the way, I had a resolution going to clean up my language here, but I'm furious. And I hope to stay that way, because when I stop being angry sometimes I just want to sink to my knees and sob for the human race. So hard Anglo-Saxon syllables it is.)

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Please do so.

And for the question that has to do with "how did you first hear about Little Miss Attila," please do not reply:

• We shared a pitcher of Sangria at Bicyle Shop Cafe in the 80s; you were sooooo fucked up.

or

• I had a wild, yet longstanding affair with your husband before he was your husband.

or

• I lost my virginity to you.

Thank you for following these guildelines.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 03:21 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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1 The Cotillion . . .

Posted by: Sissy Willis at January 03, 2006 03:52 PM (mrcD4)

2 But if they're true?

Posted by: Desert Cat at January 03, 2006 07:11 PM (xdX36)

3 Especially if they are true! ...The Campaign Staff

Posted by: Darrell at January 03, 2006 10:23 PM (XeCgX)

4 Glad someone's got my back

Posted by: Attila Girl at January 03, 2006 10:43 PM (zZMVu)

5 I've been pondering why I visit this site (not that you asked except in the initial surver), and by extension why I visit the other sites in my favorites list. Some blogs I like because of their free ranging nature and links to things I don't have the time to search out on my own (Instapundit, for example). Other blogs I like because they post thoughtful commentary and provide new perspective (Power Line, Belmont Club). Some, like yours, I visit because I enjoy the blogger's "voice." Writing style, attitudes, opinions, whatever. And those blogs invariably also have another feature, which is the interplay in the comments, especially when the blogger takes part. In the early days of Slate's "The Fray" I was a frequent participant. I gave up around the 2000 election, when some commentors began wishing for Dick Cheney to have a fatal heart attack. In my proud history as a Bill Clinton Despiser (VRWC membership number in the low three digits) I never heard anyone wish for the things to happen to Clinton and his cohorts that are routine amongst the fever swamp of the left today. So the give and take of civil debate is good, as is the friendly banter among people who have never been face to face. But the Sangria thing, and the virginity bit? Was that you? Sorry, I was really wasted that day. I meant to call, but your husband and I went to Cabo the next morning.

Posted by: Steve Skubinna at January 04, 2006 09:27 PM (eguza)

6 Beautiful atrocities. The link to Fuck the Palestinians.

Posted by: Stuart Fullerton at January 04, 2006 11:01 PM (vBxdP)

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It doesn't seem to matter: persecution of black Republicans continues. I had heard that my friend Ted Hayes was getting kicked off the land he's been using as a village for the homeless downtown, but I hadn't realized that it was because of his association with the Party of Lincoln until I went to Goldstein's site today.

Bigotry against Republicans is a tragedy in the world today. And I'm dead serious: I had to take the Bush bumper sticker off my car. Not because of the honking and getting flipped off in traffic; I can certainly handle that. The problem was, it was costing me jobs in "tolerant" Los Angeles.

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