June 30, 2006

Goodbye, Acidman.

I just couldn't read you. Couldn't get around the way you used the word "cunt." Couldn't put up with "nigger."

But I know you touched a lot of lives, and I understand that you were a magical writer. And any friend of Juliette's is a friend of mine.

I wish you peace, and the God I believe in is flexible, so I have high hopes that if there is life after death, it's treating you a lot better than the one here did.

Be well.

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Over at Seven Inches of Sense

. . . Joan riffs off one of my favorite ad campaigns of all time, "Real Men of Genius" with "Mr. Obscene Picture E-Mailer"—a worthy addition indeed.

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Hitch on Blowjobs as the Epitome of Americana

This has to be one of the funniest, sexiest articles I've ever read.

Damn, I love Hitch:

Stay with me. I've been doing the hard thinking for you. The three-letter "job," with its can-do implications, also makes the term [blowjob] especially American.

I'm married, but I've half a mind to send him some Johnny Walker Bluejob just for that illuminating read.

Via InstaDirtyOldMan.

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It's All Over Between Goldstein and Me.

I know it seems sudden, but now he's fucking with Samuel Taylor Coleridge; I shall have to publicly de-link him. (While I'm at it, I may impugn his masculinity because of his stay-at-home-dad status, refer to him as a "failed academic" or some such, and put down his sweet, adorable son—but I haven't quite decided about that part.)

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More on Patriotism, NYT-Style

Even Coyne Maloney takes Bill Keller behind the woodshed for hiding behind the skirts of the Founding Fathers.

(Yeah. Washington, Jefferson, Adams, and Franklin wore skirts sometimes; a lot of people don't know about that, but they had to let their hair down somehow: they lived in stressful times. Who are you to judge?)

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My Present Dermatologist

. . . is very cautious about prescribing medicated skin creams. I believe he's afraid I'll somehow manage to dry them out, create powdered versions, and snort 'em.

Next thing you know, I'd be a Diprolene 'ho, and it would be all his fault.

But, no: he's saving me from that sort of existence.

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Well, Now They Know.

The people in Writer's Group seem quite surprised by the solution to my murder mystery, and not 100% dissatisfied, either.

I'm trying to get away from the type of chick-generated puzzle in which the crime was committed either by the sexist, or by the woman who likes to wear fur in public. Or the real estate developer: that's a subtle one.

Now all I have to do is finish this thing and then burn it send it to potential agents/publishers. Piece of cake.

I'll be 44 years old in a week and a half; I've got to get a move on.

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June 29, 2006

Protest Hotties.

Is Reynolds in danger, someday, of becoming a dirty old man?

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June 28, 2006

Intelligent Lefty Blogs?

I have a few on my blogroll; they're mostly written by people I know. But I could use a few more. Every time I find one, it either goes bad or has its comments section taken over by silly people.

Send me your favorites—not from an anthropological perspective, but rather an intellectual one.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 07:14 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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Best Small Database?

I'm getting to the point where in order to keep track of all my contacts, clients and prospects, I need to set up a small database.

Has to work on a PowerBook. Has to be user-friendly. Has to be non-threatening to English majors.

I'd also like it to peel grapes for me, but that's probably asking a bit much.

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Distressing Moments for Former Marxists, 1

The instant you say to yourself, "oh, wait: I'm a total running dog these days."

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So, I Show Up at My Mother's House.

"Do you have anything to eat?" I ask her. "I want salad."

"No problem," she tells me.

"I had a fight with Attila the Hub. Let's hate men for a while."

"I'm not sure I can do that," she responds. "But if I really concentrated, I could probably resent your father for a few minutes."

"Don't. After all, he put some nice semen in you, with cool DNA. And now you have two nice kids. Excuse me: one nice kid, and one repressed workaholic. However, the one who's nice is really nice."

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Well, That's Something, Anyway.

I'm over my PMS.

That's the main problem with perimenopause: When I had actual cycles, I could predict the point at which temporary insanity would descend upon me. Now I freak out first, and find out why afterward.

Of course, that just makes me more interesting, colorful, and fun to be around. (Read: a total cunt. That happens to be my own version of the Marabel Morgan approach: a lot less sugar, a lot more spice.)

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June 27, 2006

More Agony for Yemen

In a sur-prise move, the Yemeni "President" is going to stay in office, after all.

Meanwhile, those who are agitating for democracy continue to face imprisonment and the threat of death.

Jane's one-woman campaign to bring attention to the situation in Yemen fills me with grief for its people and gratitude that she has the stomach to keep going. As usual, her observations are worth reading.

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June 26, 2006

Ann Coulter on the Grateful Dead

Who knew she was a 'head? Well, my friend Mikal knew. Apparently, so did Taylor Hill at jambands.com.

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June 25, 2006

That Tiresome SWIFT Story.

Hackbarth takes the ACLU to task over its rather predictable—and unsupported—spin on the NY Times' shocking revelations that Western governments (including ours!) are trying to starve Al Qaeda of funds.

As Sean points out, the only thing shocking about it is the fact that the folks at the Gray Lady thought our enemies should know the details about how this is done.

Next thing you know, Big Brother is going to be asking us how much money we make, and where we get it. Oh, wait . . .

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A Beautiful Morning

It's so pretty right now, and relatively cool. I may actually go for a walk before church.

I woke up early, so I'll probably resort to a nap this afternoon. But at the moment, all is well: the birds are singing in the yard, and living in La Canada is like being at summer camp—all year 'round. Nothing but trees everywhere I look.

And the crows—those noisy beasts—are quiet right now. Still no owls, though. Am I supposed to buy my own? Did the city fail to send me a memo?

Will blog for owls. Or Wols; either way.

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June 24, 2006

If You Must.

Insty has a good roundup on the current Kos-TNR dustup, and the TownhallTownhouse-list scandal.

Somehow, the whole thing makes my head hurt, although it's always nice to watch the leftist fringe self-destruct. How funny that "people power" translates into "march in lockstep with me."

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Feisty Republican Whore

. . . is staying in tonight.

She does not seem too happy about it, though.

I can relate to the idea that if someone suddenly sounds like Ace, that would be a turn-on. What is it about that guy, anyway?

Nonetheless, I maintain that there's nothing wrong with Feisty a Hitachi Magic Wand wouldn't cure.

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From The New Republic

Martin Peretz writes:

It feels a bit demeaning to defend oneself against Kos. But I am one of the neo-con owners, and I am titular editor-in-chief. So here goes . . .

So I guess they aren't quite the Hard Righties Kos is making them out to be. Fun times.

Via Protein Wisdom.

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