Today had to be the absolute worst day of my entire life. Never before could I have ever imagined such a terrible event to actually happen to me. I mean, to even think about it now gives me a certain unexplainable squishy feeling in the seat of my pants… accompanied by a foul stench, of course.

I feel completey compelled to share this rather lengthy story with you, Comrades, so that you will never have to experience what I went through today.

It all started early this morning when I got the phone call from Her Excellency, you know, the kind of phone call that I usually get every morning after Her Excellency gets done giving lap-dances to wealthy corporate donors:

Hillary: Meow, get your gawd damn ass down to the drug store and fetch me something for this ass wart!

Me: It's only 5:30 in the morning, Your Excellency; your ass wart usually doesn't appear till at least 7:30. Is everything all right?

Hillary: No, it's not all right. I have a huge bloody festering mass growing OUT OF MY ASS! NOW GET YOUR ASS DOWN TO THE DRUG STORE! NOW!

Me: Uh, do you need some Neosporin or… uhhh… something to clean it with?

Hillary: Uh, yeah… get me a tampon or something. A tampon should stop the bleeding. Oh, and get me some hefty trash bags too. I need to take this cash to the “Laundromat”. Well, hurry the Hell up already!

I hung up. I didn't know what Her Excellency had planned, but clearly it involved money laundering, tampons and that giant festering wart on her ass that was obviously scaring Iowan caucus voters into considering Obama. I had to act fast and get Her Excellency that tampon because if I didn't, well, that bloody festering puss-filled mass on her ass could cost her the nomination.

I never have been so scared in my life flying down the interstate doing at least 90 in my brand new chromed out Hummer. All I could see were lights, thousands of them, glittering by as my foot pushed harder and harder on the accelerator. Why, if I didn't get Her Excellency that tampon it could be me sharing a cell with Norman Hsu, or worse, I could be sharing a shallow grave with the late Vince Foster. My thoughts were racing by so fast that I had no choice but to pop a few pills and wash them down with some scotch. Hey, it works for the Kennedy's… besides; my driving is already reckless without the pills and the booze, what's the worst that could happen? It was then when I saw flashing blue lights in the rearview mirror along with a trail of burning death, destruction and chaos. I immediately pulled over and patiently waited for the police office to approach.

Police officer: Sir, step out of the vehicle with your hands on your head, now!

Me: No! I'm on official business, dammit!

Police officer: Sir, I'm going to count to three. 1 – 2…

Me: I'm a Kennedy!! I'm a Kennedy!! I'm late for a vote!

Police officer: A Kennedy!? Sir, are you joking?

Me: No, I'm not. We're everywhere, dammit! And I'm late for a vote!! I have to vote! It is very important that I vote!

Police officer: Sir, you were doing about a hundred and as you can see there is a forty vehicle pile up behind you due to your reckless driving. Most of the vehicles are already burning and emergency responders have been dispatched.

Me: Did you hear me!? I'm a Kennedy! I am a KENNEDY! I don't get in trouble, you peon! Do you know what I can do to you!?

Police officer: Sir…

Me: Don't sir me, idiot! You will let me go right this minute and forget that I was ever here! You better pray that I don't miss this vote because if I do, well, you can forget about the rest of your life. Hmm, how does that sound?

Police officer: Sir, there are about forty vehicles here on fire and I don't know how many fatalities. Clearly you are drunk, stoned or perhaps both and I…

Me: Not another word! I am a Kennedy! A KENNEDY! We kill people all the time – by accident, mind you – and the police are more than happy to let us go. Do you know why?

Police officer: Because you're a Kennedy?

Me: Exactly. Therefore, you can't touch me. Haven't you heard about my Uncle Teddy?

Police officer: Yes.

Me: OK then, you have to let me go now and blame this whole thing on someone else, someone else who isn't a Kennedy. Can you do that for me so that I won't be forced to destroy your miserable little life with all my political connections?

Police officer: Yes sir.

Me:Good, now I want you to give me your badge.

Police officer: What!?

Me: Fork it over. I'm a Kennedy, remember!

Police officer: OK, here, take it.

Me: Thanks!

The cop bought my story and who was he to question whether or not I was a Kennedy? Hell, they're everywhere and I happen to play golf with at least twenty of them. I do feel pretty guilty though. I mean, I only knocked off forty motorists. What if Al Gore were here in the passenger seat with me? What would he say I wonder? I think he would be disappointed, he would probably ask me to drive faster next time and kick back some more pills so that I could knock out at least a couple hundred motorists. Sure, I hate the idea that those cars are on fire thus polluting the air more, but still, having those motorist dead will only bring Democrats closer to victory in the next election and also take forty gas guzzling vehicles off the road which is a plus for the precious Earth mother. So we are all winners tonight. I got a cop badge, the cop got to meet a Kennedy and there are forty + motorists who are currently voting Democrat and doing their part to save the Earth. Ah yes, my work here is done and now it's off to the drug store to get Hillary her tampon for that giant festering puss-filled wart projecting off her bloated ass.

It took no time at all to finally reach the local Walgreens and going 90 – or was it 100?- well, however fast I was going it paid off.

Clerk: Can I help you, sir?

Me: Yes, you can help me. I need the cheapest thing of tampons you got here.

Clerk: <giggling> Oh, I see. Did your girlfriend or something make you come in here to get them?

I didn't think this little broads joke was very funny and I had no other choice but to whip out my badge.

Me: Do you see this? Hmm? This is a badge, dammit! I don't care for your sense of humor, missy.

Clerk: Um, you don't look like a cop? Hey, is that thing even real?

Me: You bet your ass it's real! I'm the head cop at the station. Uhh… I'm the Kennedy cop! Yeah! That's right! I'm the Kennedy cop! I'm very, very important and can do whatever I want.

Clerk: Sir, are you OK?

Me: Yes I am! Now get back there and grab me some of those tampons! Oh, and some hefty bags and chocolate milk! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!

The little store girl didn't know what to make of what was happening but clearly she was intimidated. There is nothing more powerful than a Kennedy cop… a cop who happens to be a Kennedy.
Clerk: Here you go, sir. Are you ready for me to check you out?

Me: No, that's OK. I have a few hookers at home that usually do that for me among other things.

Clerk: Um, no, I meant are you ready to pay for those items?

Me: Come again?

Clerk: You have to pay for those items, sir.

Me: No I don't.

Clerk: Um, yes you do, sir. If you didn't it would be theft and I would have to call the police.

Me: I am the police and a Kennedy! You can't tell me what to do! I like trump everything and stuff!

Clerk: Sir, I can't let you walk out of the store with those items without paying me.

Me: Pay you? What the Hell is that? You mean like a kickback or a bribe or something? I mean, I'm a Democrat and have never "paid" anyone anything!? This is completely foreign to me... not like that is a problem or anything because I'm all for being Multicultural and everything... but to pay you?? I'm confused??

The little store clerk girl looked around thinking of what, if anything, she could possibly say to calm my fear of actually "paying" for something.

Clerk: Um… yes, it is like like a bribe. Here, you bribe me with $10.51 and I will let you keep the stuff.

Me: Oh, OK… I played this game before.

I preceded to hand the store girl the ten dollars and fifty-one cents and watched her place it in what appeared to be some sort of counting machine for bribes. It was a pretty big machine which included a drawer and a pad of various numbers.

Clerk: Would you like your receipt in the bag, sir?

Me: No thank you. I don't want any paper trail of this transaction getting out if you know what I mean.

Clerk: I understand, sir. We'll just keep this between us, OK?

Me: Yes, I don't want anyone knowing about this! I was never here and you never saw me!

Clerk: I got ya. Have a merry Christmas, sir.

And there it was the two most dreaded words in the progressive language. I could feel my pants slowly turn from dry and content to soggy and, well, foul smelling. I couldn't believe what this little store clerk just said to me… it was… it was as if she didn't have any consideration for my Holiday preference. This had to be the worst thing I have ever heard from some unwashed wage-slave peasant. I had no other choice but to reprimand her for such an offense!

Me: Excuse me? What did you just say?

Clerk: I… uhh… I didn't mean to.

Me: No, I think you did. I think you really enjoyed telling me that. I mean, I have never been so offended in my life! How dare you wish me that!

Clerk: I'm sorry. I… I didn't know. Please don't tell my manager. This was the second time it slipped out and I already got in trouble once for saying it.

Me: Well I guess so! Stalin only knows how many people you offended by saying that! I bet each and every single one of them is contemplating suicide now after having their little worlds utterly shattered after hearing such a hateful thing!

Clerk: I'm sorry, sir. Please don't tell my boss.

It was then I realized something. Here was a young girl not afraid of the fact that I happened to be a Kennedy cop – which, of course, is the most powerful thing you can be – but is instead afraid that I might tell her boss that she said the most dreaded two words, the unspeakable words, if you will, in the entire progressive PC language. I was totally and utterly perplexed.

Me: I'll tell you what. If you don't tell my boss that these tampons were made in China and that I got a great deal on them, I won't tell your boss that you said the two most dreaded words in the progressive PC language. Do we have a deal?

Clerk: Thank you! Thank you so much, sir! Thank you! Your secret is safe with me!

Me: Good. And remember always to say Happy Holidays or Happy Solstice and catch yourself before you ever mention to the two most dreaded words in the progressive PC language.

Clerk: I will, sir! I will!

So now you see why this was clearly the worst day of my entire life. Never before have I ever been confronted with such words. I mean, sure, there were times when I came close to hearing someone wish me a happy or merry you-know-what… but usually they caught themselves from saying it as I made a grab for the Salvation Army collection bucket (which I have stolen at least seven so far this year! A new record!). I mean, this poor girl would have ruined the lives of so many spreading her Christofascist cheer if it weren't for me to stop her in time. Just think of all the self-esteems that could have been ruined if I didn't step in to correct her erroneous ways! It disgusts me just to think about all of those who will tread back to their ditches with the thought of a merry you-know-what plaguing their very existence. Luckily for us, all of us, we won't have to worry about careless slips of the tongue in the future since good folks like you and I are around to remind people to keep their merry you-know-what's at home and in the closet where they belong. Yes, all it takes is a handful of us to change the course of this country and eradicate the hateful expression of merry you-know-what's once and for all. Now that, Comrades, is progress! Progress that we can all be proud of!

My fault! I lay before you, dear Chairman, and ask for forgiveness. In your mercy do not purge me! I'm not the Trotsky you think I am. I'll get right on this.

You haven't failed, Commissar Ivanov. No, society has failed; it has failed to eradicate the mention of merry you-know-what with the progressive use of stiff fines, regulations and public executions. If anything we should blame society… oh, and George Bush, we have to blame him too.

Chairman M. S. Punchenko wrote: society has failed

Which is just a fancy term for "It's Bush's Fault!!!!"

Meowsovitch, I gotta admire your style--you're coming up in the world. Now if you were really were a Kennedy, it wouldn't have taken you so long to have taken care of that cop. When I'm one-eyed drunk, I just run over the cops too. And that silly nephew of mine who didn't run over the Capitol police when he was drunk and stoned--I had him down to the Compound in Florida to give him a refresher course.

But there really is one thing that you have to know. You gotta know the <i>schedule</i> of our clan. When you were killing people, nothing wrong with that, nothing at all, the rest of us were fondling girls in night clubs and making the beast with two backs on the lawn of the Compound. Well, Joe was. I had a couple of skanks up to my room with my special device, you know, like the one Henry VIII had when he got a little, er, healthy to make it with the girls. I had to add a wrinkle though--even when I'm lying on it, still all that good livin' gets in the way of good lovin' and so I find that just a little bustier gets things right so that all the jewels are readily to hand.

And while we were all there, feeling up other women, and eating crab eggs Benedict and drinking whisky sours for breakfast, you were pretending you were a Kennedy? Boy, you're damned lucky that that cop was in the sticks. The ones in the Capital all know us and know our schedule. How else could they shut down National for our Gulfstreams and give us the dedicated Metro line?

But there's one thing though. If you want to crash in on the Kennedy name, you gotta buy a <i>franchise</i>. And that takes money. You think all that money Daddy made rum running and shilling at the Court of St. James lasts forever? Some of those bimbos' families were greedy, man. I recall when a girl's life wasn't worth more than a $20K max, but <i>no</i>, not that we've started taking all that money from the trial lawyers. You'd think they wouldn't bite the hand that feeds them, but they do.

So all that cash that you were going to give to that homo, what's his name, Theo? down in Texas? He don't need it. All <i>those</i> people have money, you know. And if you gave him money, he's just buy stilly queer things. <i>Those</i> people don't need any more clothes.

I need your money. It's the price of the franchise. If you want to talk the Kennedy talk and walk the Kennedy walk, you gotta pay the Kennedy. Capisce?

Dear, dear Chairman, so sorry to hear about your bad day. To think, all before your 9:30 AM breakfast in bed and your 10 AM post-wake-up nap. This is clearly all Bush's fault.

BTW, your interesting encounter with the clerk got me to thinking, what if we had a bribe-market system to substitute for the time between we transition from free-market to distribution. Think about it, it does not go against our conviction, we are not actually buying anything, just bribing. We could also have the suggested (by that we mean set by the government) baseline bribe for goods. It is something to think about.

(I suppose the next thing that will happen is that the clerk will start saying "Ho, Ho, Ho", which according to Australia is offensive because it sounds too much like Hoe, Hoe, Hoe <sign, Imus>. Does this also mean that we need to rename the state of I-da-ho to remain non-offensive?)

- Where are you from?

- Udapimp, Idaho.

Great Lenin's Resting Noncorporeal Form (Ghost) comrade Chairman, what a crappy day! The little prole wench actually said "Merry Christmas"? I wasn't even a glum sounding "Merry F***in' Christmas" or something even remotely Progresive? You have my sympathies.

By the way, was the clerk hot in a prole sort of way? You know how I like to slum with the commoners when I've had a bit too much Putinka. The ladies at the local Walgreens and Sonic drive-in don't seem interested in going back to the dacha anymore, so I need to expand my horizons.

Commissar Vladimir Ivanov wrote:My fault!

I denounce you for saying that, Vladimir! The progressives are faultless by definition. If you're not trying to blame someone else you're not a true progressive! Who are you then? A turncoat in the service of George Bush? If not, why are you protecting him if his guilt in this is obvious?

The Party tribunal has no other choice but to sentence you to 24 hours of hard self-criticism with a shovel. During that time you must be constantly repeating "It's Bush's fault!" like a prayer, and Chairman will be there checking on you lest you stop saying it or use someone else's name instead. It's a good mnemonic exercise, comrade, and will come handy in the future. One day you will thank the Party for it.

Oh, and Kennedy Cop sounds like a new superhero from a progressive comic book. He can force other people do anything he wants and get away with anything. The new superpower is greater than the simple sum of the ingredients. Congratulations!

Chairman! I am as shocked as you were by the horrible, un-necessary things you had to suffer through. How can this alleged officer of the law fail to recognize an elite such as your self, or fail to notice the Fast Pass Carbon Credit sticker on your Hummer that identified you as a member of the more equal than class is beyond me. Just what were these alleged 40 cars doing in our lane in the first place? I know you were too upset to think of everything to straighten that cop out about, but now there is time to bring him in for further <s>beatings</s> interrogation.

Then to have to read about the horrid experience at that store... well, I just want you to know that I tremble in rage reading this, not to mention it upsetting me while I am trying to drink my morning gold flaked coffee and eat my Faberge Eggs. But I suppose we can't blame everything on that clerk, having been brought up in a world corrupted by the Bush.

Be that as it may, just remember how I have always esteemed you for what you represent, and if there is anything I can take from someone else, any person I can renounce that would make your day better, just let me know Honored Chairman. It is good to see you back.

What I want to know is how the buffoon didn't recognize his boss. After all, it is well known that the United States of America is a collective run by Kennedys, that is, it would have been until that unfortunate incident at Chappaquiddick. If only the Sainted Teddy had remembered to call John Podesta's father all that would have been water under the bridge. Instead of festering underneath it.

Damn it. It's a nice day, work is going well, the animals are healthy, I'm healthy, the bank is happy, and there's nothing really to complain about. Goddamn it! What's a good progressive to do?

Commissar Theocritus wrote:...and there's nothing really to complain about. Goddamn it! What's a good progressive to do?

Nothing to complain about Commissar? Have you not heard the slanderous joke out there about the title of the Honorable Senator Kennedy's memoirs -- 'Chappaquiddick: If I Did It.'"? Money crops littered on the interstate? And you say noting to complain about? The cost of the Chairman's Hummel's is rising through the roof (which really made me a fantastic profit the other day)! And if that is not reason enough to complain.... well.... all I can say is sit down for this! Take a good stiff drink of your favorite libation.....there are perfectly innocent progressive people that may soon Forced to have their Calls Come from a Cross! Wake up Commissar and smell the Collective! There is plenty of reason to be depressed, feel bad about!

Forgive me Commissar.. I really should not have been so harsh. I am still just so upset over the ordeal the Chairman went though, and all this news. Would you even believe there are lies being spread out there about Hillary losing to every one of her republikan enemies? I am so upset... I just can't go on like this.

Red Square wrote:

Commissar Vladimir Ivanov wrote:My fault!

I denounce you for saying that, Vladimir! The progressives are faultless by definition. If you're not trying to blame someone else you're not a true progressive! Who are you then? A turncoat in the service of George Bush? If not, why are you protecting him if his guilt in this is obvious?

The Party tribunal has no other choice but to sentence you to 24 hours of hard self-criticism with a shovel. During that time you must be constantly repeating "It's Bush's fault!" like a prayer, and Chairman will be there checking on you lest you stop saying it or use someone else's name instead. It's a good mnemonic exercise, comrade, and will come handy in the future. One day you will thank the Party for it.

*Shoveling*
It begins now..."It's Bush's fault! It's Bush's fault!...."

Where's my F@#KING RAG?

Oh, never mind Meow, you're becoming more useless everyday.

Huma, come here!
Thanks Huma, you can insert it right here after you give it a good squeeze. Wait until it pops.
<Pop! squish.....>
That's it. Very good. Go buy yourself another Oscar de La Renta gown, sweetie...a nice teal colored one...grrrrrr.
<pinches Huma's ass>
Put it on Meow's CCCP card. Give her your card Meow and take notes on how efficient Huma is. She keeps an extra rag in her purse. Why don't you keep one in your purse Meow....?

Oh, nevermind.


H08

Not so fast, on laundering that cash, Meow. We have Party "bidness" that needs attention.

Starting with the problem next door in the People's Socialist Republic of the District of Columbia and the latest challenge to their Marxist/Leninist rule. As you may know, the Supreme Court of the U.S. will hear arguments challenging the PSRDC's that bans private ownership of handgun guns as a violation of the 2nd Amendment to the Constitution. We have some SCOTUS Justices that will have to be bought off and it won't be cheap! This is our chance to gut the Constitution of the U.S. in one felled swope!!! Her Excellency Hillary knows that this is our chance that we have been waiting for!

Pay close attention here, Meow. This is what Her Excellency communicated to Huma and I this afternoon after Huma patched up Her Excellency's ass:

• No more 2nd amendment, no more guns in the hands of the proles.
  No more guns in the hands of the proles, no more Constitution.
  No more guns in the hands of the proles and no more Constitution, NO armed resistance and no legal resistance to Her Excellency, Hillary Rodam Clinton!!!

Like all knowledge that flows from our Many Tittied Empress (excluding her ass), it is BRILLIANT!!!!

We need 5 Justices bought off. Each will be offered $50 million. So... $250 million to buy a Supreme Court..... cheap, I tell you! Cheap! If any one of the "selected" Justices refuse.... well.... I'll help them "understand" that they are making a mistake.

Think about it!!! The Party™ will rule unopposed by fascist neocons, for all time!!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!


Have 5 large trash bag with $250 million ($50M in each bag) in my office by 5pm tomorrow. And I better not hear any static back from you. Otherwise, Senator "Frogface" (S-VA) will receive some very interesting photographs that will explain what happened to his 13 year old daughter in the girls locker room at her "Private Academy" last month. Trust me.... she knew you weren't really her ... Daddy.

BTW: My compliments on how you handled your latest chemically induced stupor. This time I didn't hear a peep out of Comrade Gov. Kaine or that slimy back stabber, Comrade Sen. "Frogface" Webb. Nicely Done!!!

Oh! And do not forget to give Huma your CCCP card. You don't want to get Her Excellency pissed off at you, do you? Remember what happened to Vinnie?

--
Blokhayev

Her Excellency wrote:Why don't you keep one in your purse Meow....?

Which purse, Your Excellency? You know I have a whole closet full of purses. Let me see ... oh! Look at this one, Your Excellency! I stole this one this morning from some old hag on her way to the bank. And over here I have a lovely Hello Kitty purse which I snatched off a twelve-year-old girl last week. I have tons of them and I plan on selling them all on E-Bay at ridiculously high prices. Maybe I could sell them back to their rightful owners? Hmm? I also think I'm going to sell back the candy that I stole from babies as well.

A delusional Blokhayev who is trying to act out his progressive fantasies through me wrote:Have 5 large trash bag with $250 million ($50M in each bag) in my office by 5pm tomorrow. And I better not hear any static back from you. Otherwise, Senator "Frogface" (S-VA) will receive some very interesting photographs that will explain what happened to his 13 year old daughter in the girls locker room at her "Private Academy" last month. Trust me.... she knew you weren't really her ... Daddy.

Huh? What? I can't hear you Zam... the reception down here is not so good <crumples up newspaper to produce static sound> I'm going to have to get to you on that one, Zam. I'm really having a hard time hearing you. <hangs up phone>

<picks up phone and dials Jim Webb's number> Hey Jim... yeah, it's Meow. Umm, there have been these rumors about me that Zam has been spreading and I just wanted to clear it up before you hear about it because, well, I really don't want to see your ugly red face anytime soon. Yeah, well, you know the old saying about Zam "where there is a pre-school"... Ha ha ha... Yeah, he's a real filthy SOB and I bet he has the clap... I also heard he is tight with a few judges up there in Vermont. No, Zam did that with your wife... yeah... uh huh... well she's a liar and I'm telling the truth. Yeah... uh huh... that was Zam also. No... probably Zam dressed up like me... yeah... he did that too. No, I never went through your garbage and that was probably one of Schumer's guys. Mmhmmm... well who can you trust these days? I know... I know... I had to do that one time too. Yeah, it hurt really bad and that is why I'll never frequent a D.C strip joint again... at least not with Marion. OK, well, I have to go and count the money and if you need Zam's address and places that he frequents I will be more than happy to help. OK, you take care too... all right... buh bye. <hangs up phone and goes back to counting the money>

Chairman Meow. S. Punk-chenko who has purses in his closet wrote:

Her Excellency wrote:Why don't you keep one in your purse Meow....?

Which purse, Your Excellency? You know I have a whole closet full of purses. Let me see ... oh! Look at this one, Your Excellency! I stole this one this morning from some old hag on her way to the bank. And over here I have a lovely Hello Kitty purse which I snatched off a twelve-year-old girl last week. I have tons of them and I plan on selling them all on E-Bay at ridiculously high prices. Maybe I could sell them back to their rightful owners? Hmm? I also think I'm going to sell back the candy that I stole from babies as well.

You have a Hello Kitty purse in your closet????????

Chairman Meow who is in need of some time at the Jane Fonda Treatment Center for Anti-Socialist Behavior in San Bernardino, CA wrote: Huh? What? I can't hear you Zam... the reception down here is not so good <crumples up newspaper to produce static sound> I'm going to have to get to you on that one, Zam. I'm really having a hard time hearing you. <hangs up phone>

*starts printing new copies of the pictures*

Oh Wow! That girl is talented!!! Are they sure she is 13, Meow? I mean... DAYUM... she looks at least 18!

Quit being a whiny little girl and fork over the $250 million.

Chairman Meow who is definitely going to JFTC!!! wrote: <picks up phone and dials Jim Webb's number> Hey Jim... yeah, it's Meow. Umm, there have been these rumors about me that Zam has been spreading and I just wanted to clear it up before you hear about it because, well, I really don't want to see your ugly red face anytime soon. Yeah, well, you know the old saying about Zam "where there is a pre-school"... Ha ha ha... Yeah, he's a real filthy SOB and I bet he has the clap... I also heard he is tight with a few judges up there in Vermont. No, Zam did that with your wife... yeah... uh huh... well she's a liar and I'm telling the truth. Yeah... uh huh... that was Zam also. No... probably Zam dressed up like me... yeah... he did that too. No, I never went through your garbage and that was probably one of Schumer's guys. Mmhmmm... well who can you trust these days? I know... I know... I had to do that one time too. Yeah, it hurt really bad and that is why I'll never frequent a D.C strip joint again... at least not with Marion. OK, well, I have to go and count the money and if you need Zam's address and places that he frequents I will be more than happy to help. OK, you take care too... all right... buh bye. <hangs up phone and goes back to counting the money>

Dude!!!! Are you crazy???? You just spoke over the phone with Senator "Frogface"!!! Now you will have to be tossed into the Potomac River and "scrubbed" for several hours with Ajax in order to be decontaminated!!! All that slime!!!!

Besides... who is he gonna believe after "The Border Collie Affair"??? You who hallucinated that it was Chelsea Clinton? Or someone who "smoothed" over things with Comrade Gov. Kaine and a sack full of money?

--
Blokhayev

Chairman!!! It is so wonderful to see you back to your usual scheming self! I too am shocked to see the way Zampolit tried to shake you down! As if anyone would believe someone with the sordid background he has. We have pictures of him at one of my "Houses" that would curl the Empresses cloven feet. In fact, I will waive my usual fee and fax some over to you right away. Asking you for money! As if you would ever let any go. I will say this much for him though, at least he aims high unlike a certain Comrade Dirk.

Great! Great! Great! Bitch fight and I'm not in the middle of it. Now this is a first. I always wondered what one of those looked like from the outside. And the really good part is that <i>I</i> don't own a purse. Now I don't think anything bad about people who do own purses, you know--and I figure that a purse is a perfect fashion accessory for a toaster, and since Pupovich let it be known that you have a room of toasters which are, constrained, in their behavior, it's only fitting that each have a purse.

Meow, except for one thing I'd have a professional opinion that keeping a <i>closet full of purses</i> was, shall we say, rather SHOUTING SOMETHING OUT LOUD. I've seen this behavior before. And if you need some advise on accessorizing, take Bruno. Please take Bruno.

But your saving grace is that it is all excused by your acting out your larceny, so all is forgiven. It's a twofer.

You see, you're stealing, and you're acting out, which means that it's all an illness, so the stealing gets you a pass from Progressives and the acting out gets you a pass from the sociology people.

Our Splendiferous, Suppurating-Ass Many Pimpled AND Titted Empress wrote:Where's my F@#KING RAG?

Oh, never mind Meow, you're becoming more useless everyday.

Huma, come here!
Thanks Huma, you can insert it right here after you give it a good squeeze. Wait until it pops.
<Pop! squish.....>

Empress, I have told Bruno of your new Huma attachment, and he wishes you all the best. Specifically he jumped in the air and kicked his heels together--which is <i>quite</i> a sight--and shrieked like a little girl seeing Meow coming for her My Little Pony. Specifically he said that he was glad that you wouldn't ride him around with spurs any more, and frankly I'm glad that I no longer have to buy all that antiseptic ointment to put on his sides.

So congratulations on Huma. I can't tell you how glad I am. Nor can Bruno.

Zam - who just doesn't get it - wrote:Besides... who is he gonna believe after "The Border Collie Affair"??? You who hallucinated that it was Chelsea Clinton? Or someone who "smoothed" over things with Comrade Gov. Kaine and a sack full of money?

People don't really have a choice but to believe me, Zam. I mean... like... I hold the keys in the PCVA. Oh, and did I mention I have a badge and that I also consider myself a Kennedy? You do the math, Zam... do the math. In the battle between your truth and my truth my truth wins everytime. Did I mention I play golf with Tim Kaine's eyebrow?

The Right Honorable Commissar Pupovich - who does get it - wrote:Chairman!!! It is so wonderful to see you back to your usual scheming self! I too am shocked to see the way Zampolit tried to shake you down!

I know, right! It's just shameful... SHAMEFUL! Who among you can shake down the master? Hmm? Who among you can do it? No one... I am the lord of the shake down! When I came to America from the U.S.S.R I first started off as a used car dealer... oh, and by the way, I sold many cars to many people and they never actually got to see the damn thing. Oh, and they never got the car either.

Zam: I know living in NOVA is pricey and that is why this money is going straight to the MTE's campaign coffer after I get done paying off a few people, skimming off the top for myself and roll around in it for at least several hours. And the last time we gave you a taste of the money you had to go out of your way - after I told you not to, repeatedly - to start your "daycare" center. And what did I tell you? Hmm? What did I tell you? I told you kids are no good at stitch work and that you need sweatshops in Asia to get good quality labor. Didn't I tell you that? But no, you had to go over everyone's head and start a "daycare" center in NOVA and what did you get? I'll tell you... you got piss poor clothing. I can't sell sweaters made by kids whose fingers are nimble because all they do is play Playstation and eat chocolate cake... I can't do it, Zam! And on top of it we are making these kids too lazy with their Guitar Hero and this and that to really have the time to teach them a really, really good sweatshop work ethic. Now then, some Asian kids with fingers that have been through the fire is what you want. We need starving kids to fill our sweatshops - not chubby ones too stupid to work a sewing machine. But... you did it anyways and now you have to be cut off for a little while. Sorry. You failed and money is too precious to be left in the hands of amatuer schemers.

Theocritus wrote:Meow, except for one thing I'd have a professional opinion that keeping a closet full of purses was, shall we say, rather SHOUTING SOMETHING OUT LOUD. I've seen this behavior before. And if you need some advise on accessorizing, take Bruno. Please take Bruno.

But your saving grace is that it is all excused by your acting out your larceny, so all is forgiven. It's a twofer.

No, I'm not waltzing down main street with a purse while clomping in my tranny pumps. At least not this week since I paid my bookie. I mean, why would I march around with stolen goods? Granted... I have driven a stolen vehicle or two in plain sight but that was because my imaginary friend was sick and needed immediate medical care... and... well... I had to steal someone's vehicle - temporarily, mind you - in order to rush him/her/it to the emergency room. And, while at the emergency room, the vehicle that I "borrowed" (borrowed sounds much, much better) some how got lost and that's all I remember. Oh, and for the record, just because the "borrowed" vehicle may or may have not been seen yesterday is merely coincidence and is no way the vehicle that I "borrowed" which happened to disappear while I was in the emergency room with my imaginary friend. <looking around nervously> Um, would Bruno be interested in 200+ purses, Theocritus? I'm having a hard time selling them and their have been some folks snooping around for...erhmm... evidence of what they are calling "theft" (Ha... theft... never heard of it!).

Alas, Meow, I have to thank you for your generous offer of purses for Bruno but I'll have to turn them down. It's for his good, you know. That's what I tell him--it's for his good. That's what I tell everyone all the time of course, that it's always for your good. It's always for their good when I have them deed their minerals to me as part of a real-estate transaction, you know. Signing all those leases is just confusing and getting royalty and bonus checks? What would <i>proles</i> do with all that money? As the rather grand Victorian woman said about sex, "It's too good for the common man," I think that that goes for money too. But since I'm no elitist, I have no qualms about taking care of commoner's money. I love to wash other people's money.

But if I let Bruno have all those purses, he might actually be seen on the streets with them and he's enough of a figure as it as right now. I mean, 6' 3", 50" chest, and hasn't even worn the shine off the bottom of his shoe leather. He's the reason that the <i>Gossamer Albatross</i> got over the English channel, you know. It's the damnedest thing, confounding physics. Just how can a man who can bench-press #250 weigh #50?

Also I'm worried that the purses might be a gateway drug. First purses, and then Cher and then, horror of horrors, Barbra Streisand. Then I'd have to nuke Rancho del Rio Grande and your room would go with it and the surprise that I've been saving for you--I found a lovely town in the Chihuahua mountains isolated from the world. As happens, they all start looking alike, and there are some utterly lovely young women for you. As happens when they're inbred--ask some of your neighbors in Byrdville and can Rockefeller really be <i>that</i> stupid?--that doesn't mean that they're smart, but then they'll believe the classic lies. (1) This won't hurt, (2) the check is in the mail and (3).. what was that third one? I'm sure that you remember.

The ever-larcenous Meow wrote:I mean, why would I march around with stolen goods?

How can you say that? Build a house with it. Run for Senate with it. I've got an idea: <i>Run for president with it!</i>

The biggest contributors to the Progressive cause are trial lawyers. Let's never forget that shining exemplar of greed, John Edwards, a man so oily that only money will stick to him. And you gotta love a man who'll whore his wife's death for power. Now that's a true progressive.

Hell, if I could get a good price, I'd sell Bruno. Just think of the access I'd have in the White House, and if there's been no carpet work done off the Oval Office, I wouldn't have to break in anything.

Theocritus wrote

So congratulations on Huma. I can't tell you how glad I am. Nor can Bruno.

Thanks Critter! She's awesome. I never knew there was a feminine side to a womyn until Huma. She's graceful, pretty, never sweats (unlike Mr. Reno), never wore the same dress twice, and has a tongue like the cross between a lizard and frog, but not sticky like a frog.....and able to reach those hard to get places. She makes me feel so...so...dare I say....girly! Why just yesterday when she was trimming my ear hair and removing some wax, she blew a hot wet kiss into it and....and....ohhhhhh....nibbled on my earlobe....it gave me pteradactyl bumps all over.
I'm smitten!

I was just thinking Theo...just a thought...renaming the Hildo the Huma-difier.
Whaddya think?

H08

Excellency, I understand that perfectly, but let's stop and consider for just a moment. If you did that, and if by chance something happened between you and Huma, and for political reasons she could not just disappear--you can't always get as lucky as you did with Vince Foster you know--she might want a cut of the sales of the Hildo.

I know, I know, it's for <i>you</i> and for no one else, but what happens if there are no more
Chinese to give lap dances to? And you will always, like any good Progressive, need boatloads of OPM.

Also, have you considered the advantages of playing Huma off the Hildo? I mean, you can't threaten her by comparing her with herself, can you? For just such a purpose I bought the mortgage on a gym in San Francisco. Not for any purpose would I go there, for they don't need the services of a progressive of my standing, but it keeps Bruno in line to know that I could swap him out for just any other gym queen. After all, one cotton-wool-headed mountain of steroids and muscle and attitude is much like another. I'm still debating whether or not to get a deaf one who won't listen to that horrid music, but then he wouldn't be able to listen to my orders, would he?

Wait! A FedEx just arrived from Meow and I had it X-rayed (security, you know) and found that it had purses in it. I think this is the first move in a calculated palace coup (shut up, Meow) to take over Rancho del Rio Grande. That's it. I declare war on Meow. And after all I've done for him. Is there no justice? (It's what I say it is.) Is there no gratitude? (I'm owed everything.) Is there no pleasing me?

Chairman M. S. Punchenko - who IS gonna get it wrote: People don't really have a choice but to believe me, Zam. I mean... like... I hold the keys in the PCVA. Oh, and did I mention I have a badge and that I also consider myself a Kennedy? You do the math, Zam... do the math. In the battle between your truth and my truth my truth wins everytime. Did I mention I play golf with Tim Kaine's eyebrow?

You may hold the keys, dear Comrade Chairman. But I hold the AK-47 and the bullets.

I've kept numerous Kennedy's out of the slammer over the years, long before you were born. Why, I remember many years ago ol' Poppa Joe himself got a bit liquored up while shooting craps with Comrade Tip O'Neil (Lenin rest his Socialist soul) and started beating the hell out of Comrade Tip. Rest assured, Comrade Tip was a tough as nails old Irish Socialist and could hold his own in a slug-fest. While trying to break the fight up, a Boston cop headed down the alleyway. Just as he was about to slap the cuffs on Poppa Joe, I pulled out the 8x10 glossy of Rose K. in her birthday suit and shoved it in his face. The cop aspirated on his own upchuck!!! Thank Lenin I had just "liberated" a wood chipper from that Nazi stooge, Dick Nixon, the week before!!! Comrade Tip put the cop in the trunk and drove to a spot underneath a bridge. Today, that cop is still providing fertilizer for the plant life under that bridge abutment. Those were fun times, comrade!

So don't think for a minute all this Kennedy clan and badge crap is gonna make me nervous. If I can survive Uncle Joe's pogroms back in the glorious heyday of the U.S.S.R., I can survive anything. I make it a point to remember where the bodies are buried. Don't make me have to make an exception in your case. "Meow's corpse? Uh... Meow who?"

*looks for the manila envelopes to mail these pictures in*

So.... after using my talents to keep your ass out of the slammer, this is the thanks I get from you? Huh? I hear Siberia's lovely there this time of year.

Chairman M. S. Punchenko - who must have amnesia wrote: Zam: I know living in NOVA is pricey and that is why this money is going straight to the MTE's campaign coffer after I get done paying off a few people, skimming off the top for myself and roll around in it for at least several hours. And the last time we gave you a taste of the money you had to go out of your way - after I told you not to, repeatedly - to start your "daycare" center. And what did I tell you? Hmm? What did I tell you? I told you kids are no good at stitch work and that you need sweatshops in Asia to get good quality labor. Didn't I tell you that? But no, you had to go over everyone's head and start a "daycare" center in NOVA and what did you get? I'll tell you... you got piss poor clothing. I can't sell sweaters made by kids whose fingers are nimble because all they do is play Playstation and eat chocolate cake... I can't do it, Zam! And on top of it we are making these kids too lazy with their Guitar Hero and this and that to really have the time to teach them a really, really good sweatshop work ethic. Now then, some Asian kids with fingers that have been through the fire is what you want. We need starving kids to fill our sweatshops - not chubby ones too stupid to work a sewing machine. But... you did it anyways and now you have to be cut off for a little while. Sorry. You failed and money is too precious to be left in the hands of amatuer schemers.

What the hell are you complaining for? You got your cut from the profits from the "Daycare Center". I can't help it if you blew all that cash on scotch, pills, and prostitutes. And that enterprise would still be feeding the coffers of The Party™ today had Comrade Board of Supv. Chairman Gerry Connolly not sent his goons from The People's Socialist County of Fairtax's Child Exploitation Service to demand a cut from the action!!! That's why I had to move it to Bangladesh.

Here's a chance to BUY the U.S. Supreme Court, and what to you do? You act like kulak over a paltry $250 mill.

I'll be down there late tonight to work this out <s>of</s> with you. Uncle Iosef mentioned something about coming along for the ride. Please have plenty of scotch on hand.

--
Blokhayev

Although, as you know, I am a tried and true Socialist and snap my fingers at capitalism, that doesn't mean that I can't hire out some talent that I have. A man's gotta eat, doesn't he? And you can't believe what it costs to run my household--I'd go into it but right now I don't have the stomach for it.

I offer each of you the services of Nacho, Frito and Jose--three brothers who have a strong redoubt in the Chuhuahua mountains, and it is well staffed with loyal family members. It is on the top of a 10,000 mountain and there are all sorts of cliffs and ravines and caves. Now I understand wanting to remember where the body is buried but if you don't, then here's the solution.

After all, one of these days you just might be called on to testify and we all remember how convincing "It depends on what them meaning of 'is' is."

Solomon AKA Theocritus wrote

Excellency, I understand that perfectly, but let's stop and consider for just a moment. If you did that, and if by chance something happened between you and Huma, and for political reasons she could not just disappear--you can't always get as lucky as you did with Vince Foster you know--she might want a cut of the sales of the Hildo.

Ohh..... but Theo! Something did happen and it wasn't by chance, it was fate! She can't disappear. I NEED HER!
What are you looking at Meow?

Huma-difier?
Huma-adore!
Huma-dore......wait...let's skip that one.

Oh Critter. Help me!

Hillary wrote:She can't disappear. I NEED HER!
What are you looking at Meow?[/color]

My Empress, while I know you are deserving of all that you desire, I must admit a tinge of jealousy, No, not a tinge, a veritable Hsunami! Today is my birthday, 364 dogs years the Commissar has survived... and what was the Commissar's present?


OK. I know it could be worse... and usually has been. Though I must admit. there is something about them....eyes!

The Talented Zam wrote:So.... after using my talents to keep your ass out of the slammer, this is the thanks I get from you? Huh? I hear Siberia's lovely there this time of year.

What talent is that? Oh... Oh... I know this one... did Doug Wilder make you sit on his lap again so you could tell him what you want for Solstice? Is that it? I heard you were in your PJs and wearing pop-bottle glasses when you did it. But, then again, that's all just hearsay and in no way established truth... although Moran did capture the whole thing on video. Whoopsy! Did I just say Jim Moran has video of Zam sitting on Uncle Dougies lap reading off a list of things he wants for Solstice? Opps... I can't keep a secret. I'm bad. Naughty Meow! Naughty!

Siberia? Oh... yes... Siberia is nice this time of year and I do intend on flying out there IN MY GULFSTREAM to visit President Putin at my palatial ice castle which he personally constructed in my honor. Putin and I go way back since I didn't tell Andropov about his... well... deviationist activities (the kung-fu crap, you see). Yes, I think I'll fly out there IN MY GULFSTREAM to wish him and his Party luck in keeping control of parliament... which... according to my sources... is a sure thing.

You're more than welcomed to come, Zam. I do need someone to shovel the penguin shit (my ice castle is staffed with penguins... I couldn't help but employ them after hearing about their plight in the critically acclaimed docudrama Happy Feet).

Zam wrote:I'll be down there late tonight to work this out of with you. Uncle Iosef mentioned something about coming along for the ride. Please have plenty of scotch on hand.

Uncle Iosef can suck the muffler on my Volga limousine, Zam. And Tip O'Neil? Ugh, please... I was trained in Cook County. While you were pouring scotch and rounding up sluts for old man Tip, I - in all my awe-inspiring grace and pure awesomeness - was screwing Da Mares wife and letting Hizzoner pick up my bar tab.

I mean, here you are getting your red panties all in a knot over a few idiots in the Supreme Court. Oh, and on top of it you want to pie them off. What are you smoking!? We don't just pay off anybody, Zam. OK? This is the Clinton campaign for Stalin's sake! We don't have to pay people off when Ft. Marcy Park is just a short car trip away... or should I say trunk trip? Your Excellency, was Vince in the trunk or in the back seat? I can't remember. Well, anyways, put it out of your mind, Zam. We aren't stuffing the pockets of a few justices when that money can be used to pay volunteers to fill the seats at Republican debates and make stupid statements. Speaking of which: I wish for General Kerr to be given the Order of Hillary for blaming the Republicans for don't ask, don't tell, Your Excellency.

Theocritus wrote:Wait! A FedEx just arrived from Meow and I had it X-rayed (security, you know) and found that it had purses in it. I think this is the first move in a calculated palace coup (shut up, Meow) to take over Rancho del Rio Grande.

Theocritus - I'm not a fan of the palace coup. If I wanted to launch a palace coup I would've sent Sarah Jessica Parker along with the entire cast of Sex and the City to Rancho del Rio Grande. That is a sure fire way to curry favor among your ranks and proclaim myself Queen Bee over your unwashed masses.


Just give me a call, Zam, when you're ready to apologize and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you become a member of my Cool Commie Club and let you be seen in my super awesome Volga.

Zampolit Blokhayev who certainly won't be getting it.... wrote:You may hold the keys, dear Comrade Chairman. But I hold the AK-47 and the bullets.

Have you forgotten that you are a political commissar for the military hmmm? First you try and shake down the wise and honorable Chairman, who has done so much for the Party, and I might add, does NOT wear a uniform (other than that one time he played "General Genitalia" in our May Day Review/Blood and Cheese Tasting at the Pleasure Palace)? This is no scared young recruit forced to serve under arms you know? Why, the only time you will see fear in the Chairman is when Hillary starts breaking Hummels or someone tries to make him pay for lunch. Besides, have you forgotten that the Chairman was the one who contracted for that AK-47 and those bullets? Of course if you know the Chairman, you know he always insists on the highest bidder.... the one who offers the largest gratuity to sell you your arms.... so I guess now you understand why only about 3 of every 100 "bullets" get past the end of the nozzle only to bounce off a peasant's thread bare coat.... those that actually hit the mark that is.

But come now, let us reason together....you know how the girls at the Pup's Party Pleasure Palace love the Chairman, and they would be most displeased to really service someone who treated him badly... and we know how you like to show your gun to the ladies and appliances there don't we?

*How was that Chairman? Will you release my mother and my workers now?*

Zampolit Blokhayev wrote:[If I can survive Uncle Joe's pogroms back in the glorious heyday of the U.S.S.R., I can survive anything.....Uncle Iosef mentioned something about coming along for the ride. Please have plenty of scotch on hand.

Name dropping again Zampolit? Yes, let's have plenty of scotch on hand.... as the Chairman and I enjoy a good cigar and watch the film showing how you survived my....pogrom is such an ugly word.... let's just call it "a market correction." You were confessing to anything and everything my dear friend Lavrentiy and I could think up. But we both agreed that you confessed with such fervor and had the foresight to wear diapers so as not to mess up our private viewing room that we agreed to spare you, and even put you in your position for we knew we could count on you to act as a "talent scout" for further good acts in the ranks. The Good old days indeed.... before this lousy internet and copying machines made us have to start cleaning up our act a little. And that damn YouTube seems to always catch my bad side.....

The gentle and noble Commissar Pupovich wrote:*How was that Chairman? Will you release my mother and my workers now?*

Excellent. Your mother is free to go now and you may have your peons back as well. Oh... I snuffed three of them, so, like, do a head check to make sure it was just the three.

Thank Lenin! Three peon's snuffed? Hadn't noticed....been there, done that after all.

Commissar Zam, I would suggest that you go with the Chairman and scoop up penguin poop. It is the best way to save both your career and life. The Chairman is a sly fox, even for me. The last time that someone else that looked like me tried to bump off the Chairman, it ended in disaster. Those poor Mexican workers did not get their social security checks due to "faulty" building designing. And poor Betty, that Uranium accident left him a hand that had to be reconstructed with the social medicine power of 3 major European countries. Commissar Pup had it right from the start, start your sucking up to the Chairman from the moment that you get here.

I'm not really sure that I like the tenor of all of this. I mean, the world was stable. Our Many Titted Empress was all about power--any day I expected her to proclaim that she could change the direction of the orbit of electrons around their nuclei--and I understood that. I was safe and secure in bed, understanding that. It scared the shit out of me, it is true, but I understood that because that meant that I didn't have to get cross-eyed looking for someone else.

And Meow--well, his well-established greed, which makes Matthew Lesko seem like Andrew Carnegie, gave me assurance too. After all, I knew what he was after. Now I know that the dollar is a fungible unit of power, but still, there were dividing lines.

When Our Many Titted Empress was down at Rancho del Rio Grande, I could leave out the Kooh-i-Noor diamond as long as I pointed to a fly on the window and suggested, "Empress, didn't you tell that fly to circle clockwise instead of counterclockwise?" and I'd be secure that the diamond would go totally unnoticed as she bent her fulsome, awesome, never-before-seen-by-mankind-god-or-angels mental abilities to make the fly circle clockwise. Once she and Bernie Nussbaum set up all night crafting another Constitutional Amendment which made flies on the southernmost window of the rumpus (and I do mean rumpus) room of Rancho del Rio Grande circle clockwise. Unfortunately this fine piece of statesmanship died a premature death when Ira Magaziner came in and demanded that there be three levels of administration instead of two, with a cabinet-level post of Clockwise Fly Crawling on Theocritus' Southernmost Rumpus Room Window.

Oh, how the pizza boxes did fly. Bruno still hasn't finished cleaning the pepperoni off the window, which unfortunately killed the fly. Which solved the problem and may well be described as another market correction.

And Meow. Now that Kennedy impersonation is just what I'd expect for the overriding concern was merely larceny. Big, small, grand, petty, as long as it's larceny, it's our dear Meow. I could have him at Rancho del Rio Grande and put the nuclear football on a table by the side of an empty Coke bottle with a 5c deposit in Oregon, and know that the Coke bottle would be gone and the nuclear football untouched.

And so what do we have now? Chaos. Chaos, I tell you. The world is crumbling.

A nuclear football is no good to me unless Hillary's estranged husband leaves the launch codes in his dry-cleaning again. I mean, come on now, how the Hell can I sell America's missile defense capabilities without the launch codes?!? Geez... no scam in that at all.

Come to think of it, I don't have a whole lot of time to make a few extra nickels with the Holidays coming up. I mean, I have work to do handing out subpoenas to those neighbors who dare put up any religious display which doesn't conform to ACLU standards. Let's see... I also need to stock up on kerosene, matches and... what am I forgetting... oh yes, fecal matter to smear over the windows of those who offend my delicate sensibilities. I'm going to need brown paper bags for storage and plenty of fiber... I better get my ass down to the Walgreens!

Commissar Pupovich wrote:

Hillary wrote:She can't disappear. I NEED HER!
What are you looking at Meow?[/color]

My Empress, while I know you are deserving of all that you desire, I must admit a tinge of jealousy, No, not a tinge, a veritable Hsunami! Today is my birthday, 364 dogs years the Commissar has survived... and what was the Commissar's present?


OK. I know it could be worse... and usually has been. Though I must admit. there is something about them....eyes!

EEEK!!!

One of two things happened here:

1. Pupovich used stolen funds to buy himself a mail-order bride from the Island of Dr. Moreau.

OR

2. Pupovich himself took one of the Chairman's girls (Katya or Tatiana?) into one of those teleporterpod thingies (as seen in The Fly), to shake her down or worse, during which time, someone's big butt hit the on switch and activated the teleporterpod thingy, thereby melding Pupovich with the girl.

Either way, looks like your birthday was a wild one, Pup. May your next "dog year" be a Progressive one--if you can survive this thoroughly revolting turn of events.

It is my understanding that that <i>The Island of Dr. Moreau</i> will be remade with Progressives. Rosie O'Donnell will be Dr. Moreau, and Robert Reich will play the parts of all the homunculi.

Commissar Theocritus wrote: The Island of Dr. Moreau

Again, my publik skool edukation has failed me. What is this iland you speek of?

Don't ask me, I only sat through the movie because I had the hots for Michael York. Subjected myself to Logan's Run for the same reason. He was the love of my life until--

Wait a minute! What am I doing? It's Friday night, and I am NOT going to let you suck me into this again!

I am picking up my Putinka and going to that site with the men's thongs. You get back on topic.

Crud, I made a double post and can't delete this thing. And then I had to open a tube-shaped package of crackers for the MEECE and the crackers went flying everywhere and four-legged critters are attacking them. I'm off.

Commissarka Pinkie wrote: EEEK!!!

One of two things happened here:

1. Pupovich used stolen funds to buy himself a mail-order bride from the Island of Dr. Moreau.

OR

2. Pupovich himself took one of the Chairman's girls (Katya or Tatiana?) into one of those teleporterpod thingies (as seen in The Fly), to shake her down or worse, during which time, someone's big butt hit the on switch and activated the teleporterpod thingy, thereby melding Pupovich with the girl.

Either way, looks like your birthday was a wild one, Pup. May your next "dog year" be a Progressive one--if you can survive this thoroughly revolting turn of events.

Amazingly close to the truth! Actually, it was my own big butt that hit the switch... I was not in the pod at the time (it was Tatiiana - but no need to disturb the Chairman with that news), but who could have guessed what would happen to some spare DNA that I inadvertently left inside the teleporterpod while I was "shaking her down?"

OMG. DNA and a progressive. I don't think that I can stand a discussion of blue dresses now. Or blue doggie beds either.

Betty, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0116654">The Island of Dr. Moreau</a> is based on an H. G. Wells novel (<i>The Time Machine, War of the Worlds, The Invisible Man</i>) in which a doctor breeds animals into humans and gets a dystopia. Dr. Moreau is Marlon Brando, who was ridiculed because his addiction to food showed, and it took an act of faith to think that somewhere inside was Stanley Kowalski in <i>Streetcar Names Desire</i> (Tennessee Williams.)

Personally I thought that some of the animals showed great potential to be future delegates to a Democrat convention.

Meow,

Tell you what.

I'll bring a case of scotch (21 year old Macallen sound good?), 10 bottles of XTC, and Chelsea Clinton (the real one, not the border collie you nailed the last time) down to Richmond, PCVA this weekend. If you help me out on this Supreme Court fire sale.

--
Blokhayev

Commissar Theocritus wrote: a doctor breeds animals into humans and gets a dystopia.

So is this a form of accelerated evolution, or a genetic splicing that combines humans with animals? And if so, do the humans just take on the some of the appearances of animals, or do their personalities reflect what animal(s) they are spliced with, or are they just full on dumb animal?

Commissar Theocritus wrote: Personally I thought that some of the animals showed great potential to be future delegates to a Democrat convention.

As foretold in "Animal Farm". Even thought that book is a counter-revolutionary rag that should be burned for the Common Good(tm).

--
Blokhayev

In fact, the The Island of Dr. Moreau was a remake of an earlier, more light-hearted version, now almost forgotten...

Zampolit Blokhayev wrote:

Commissar Theocritus wrote: Personally I thought that some of the animals showed great potential to be future delegates to a Democrat convention.

As foretold in "Animal Farm". Even thought that book is a counter-revolutionary rag that should be burned for the Common Good(tm).

--
Blokhayev

Actually, that particular book was anti-Stalinist, not counter-revolutionary, Zamp.

Here's an overview of Orwell's political views, just FYI:

The People's Wikipedia wrote:
Political views

Orwell's political views shifted over time, but he was a man of the political left throughout his life as a writer. In his earlier days he occasionally described himself as a "Tory anarchist". His time in Burma made him a staunch opponent of imperialism, and his experience of poverty while researching Down and Out in Paris and London and The Road to Wigan Pier turned him into a socialist. "Every line of serious work that I have written since 1936 has been written, directly or indirectly, against totalitarianism and for democratic socialism, as I understand it," he wrote in 1946.

It was the Spanish Civil War that played the most important part in defining his socialism. Having witnessed the success of the anarcho-syndicalist communities, and the subsequent brutal suppression of the anarcho-syndicalists and other revolutionaries by the Soviet-backed Communists, Orwell returned from Catalonia a staunch anti-Stalinist and joined the Independent Labour Party.

At the time, like most other left-wingers in the United Kingdom, he was still opposed to rearmament against Nazi Germany — but after the Molotov-Ribbentrop pact and the outbreak of the Second World War, he changed his mind. He left the ILP over its pacifism and adopted a political position of "revolutionary patriotism". He supported the war effort but detected (wrongly as it turned out) a mood that would lead to a revolutionary socialist movement among the British people. "We are in a strange period of history in which a revolutionary has to be a patriot and a patriot has to be a revolutionary," he wrote in Tribune, the Labour left's weekly, in December 1940.

By 1943, his thinking had moved on. He joined the staff of Tribune as literary editor, and from then until his death was a left-wing (though hardly orthodox) Labour-supporting democratic socialist. He canvassed for the Labour Party in the 1945 general election and was broadly supportive of its actions in office, though he was sharply critical of its timidity on certain key questions and despised the pro-Soviet stance of many Labour left-wingers.

Although he was never either a Trotskyist or an anarchist, he was strongly influenced by the Trotskyist and anarchist critiques of the Soviet regime and by the anarchists' emphasis on individual freedom. He wrote in The Road to Wigan Pier that 'I worked out an anarchistic theory that all government is evil, that the punishment always does more harm than the crime and the people can be trusted to behave decently if you will only let them alone.' In typical Orwellian style, he continues to deconstruct his own opinion as 'sentimental nonsense'. He continues 'it is always necessary to protect peaceful people from violence. In any state of society where crime can be profitable you have got to have a harsh criminal law and administer it ruthlessly'. Many of his closest friends in the mid-1940s were part of the small anarchist scene in London.

....

Orwell was also a proponent of a federal socialist Europe, a position outlined in his 1947 essay 'Toward European Unity', which first appeared in Partisan Review.

I'm not trying to be critical, just want to give a little background on the man. Most people think he was all about democracy and stuff, but he was actually most progressive.

"Somehow it seemed as though the farm had grown richer without making the animals themselves any richer- except, of course, for the pigs and the dogs."
-Mikhail

Yes, Mikhail, it is a mistake to think him right-wing. I still can't get my head around him though but to say that his thinking was extremely original, refusing any slot whatsoever. Most people so like a structure that they find one that is congenial to them, and then adopt themselves to it, and take it as received wisdom. At times you'll find people fall out with that structure over something that is just too much, their wake-up call. For David Horowitz it was the left's disinterest in the 80s Soviet invasion of Afghanistan; there is a Brit, name forgotten, who recently poped in Britain and has written a mea culpa, but you can see that he has abandoned one structure for another, and is fitting himself in.

While in San Antonio I came to talk with the head waiter at the hotel--a slow night and the gaydar kicked in. He is not unusual--very neat but disciplined, in a way that at least in Texas speaks military or retired military. Such waiters are nearly all ex-military in Texas, as opposed to the usual silly queen. Here's what struck me (despite the superlative service, and shut up Meow. No.)

He wanted discipline in his life, and told me so. He likes the leadership classes. He's in the reserves, has been for 12 years, does tours in Iraq, and is an instructor in a Texas base some 600 miles away. I asked if he'd taught Tankograd, and I don't think so.

He likes the leadership classes. I have talked to many other gays in the military just the same way. Why, I wondered, join something which doesn't want you and which, if you're thrown out, would be seriously wrenching?

Male gays are denied the most important structure in life, the family, and for people whose minds need structure, which is nearly all the world, the military is a wonderful choice. And how much better than to go to some gay ghetto and become one of the loonies that one sees on the Castro? If someone's mind must have a structure, he'll find it, and he'll adopt to <i>it</i> and right there, I think, is the explanation for the followers of all totalitarianisms, both religious and secular.

How much better something very worthy, like the military, or a church, and I say this from a man whose thinking so hates external structure that I rejected all religion decades ago, and even right-wing dogma. (By the way, people needing structure have seen this, both male and female, and were I interested in permanent liaisons with someone of either sex, that would have been what fetched 'em. Interesting.)

I wondered why the Kos Kiddies inter alia were so strident; surely they didn't expect to be sitting in the limousines or the palaces. They are not stupid, so what's the matter? They want the structure that someone like our Many Titted Empress can bring. The only problem with her ascension to Ultimate Power for Life is that she is a step too far for some people. But had she a more fetching personality, or if Anglo-Saxon culture were as structured as, say, Teutonic culture, we could have just cut short all this election contest after one. Dear Adolph knew this.

Orwell was a man who knew his own mind, which is explained by his lack of fear in changing it as evidence mounted, and back then no one would have seen him in the utterly absurd position of say a Carville screaming louder as more evidence to the contrary mounts up. For it is, I think, an axiom of the ideologue that noise is made to drown out the roar of the onrushing train, and virtually everyone is, to some extent, an ideologue, who thinks that facts have emotional content instead of being neutral.

Did Orwell find a workable solution to his analysis? Anarchism, as I take it, was congenial to him but he knew that it wouldn't work for predators needed to be punished, and his ruthlessness in doing it has none of the wets' wetness.

His name has become a word in the language, but for me his best line is, "Bad English is the beginning of the end." I thought it was a throw-away line, but after watching the verbal stylings of the husband of Our Many Titted Empress I am not sure.

All I know is "four legs good, two legs better!"

The same applies to wheels.

I think George Orwell was a brilliant fool. I loved his books, his mind was brilliant in many ways, yet as his biography showed, he was never able to find "the truth" it seems. He would embrace an idea, and see nothing but good in it, till events proved him wrong and he would flit to the next closest idea in the hope that this time it will be good. The line he provided above is the evidence: "I worked out an anarchistic theory that all government is evil, that the punishment always does more harm than the crime and the people can be trusted to behave decently if you will only let them alone." As much as I hate government, this quote of his is about as ignorant a thought as I have ever heard. He makes three statements, and all three were wrong. I did agree with the comment "In typical Orwellian style, he continues to deconstruct his own opinion as 'sentimental nonsense'." While some may call this "thinking outside the box" or having an open mind, I also see a man unable to accept boundaries, in a constant search for something to commit to.

Orwell hated this school he attended as a young man and the stern teachers. No doubt this was the biggest influence on his subsequent thinking.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:If someone's mind must have a structure, he'll find it, and he'll adopt to it and right there, I think, is the explanation for the followers of all totalitarianisms, both religious and secular.

I think most people are like this. Very seldom do you come across someone who truly thinks for themselves, and doesn't fall into lockstep when the chips are down. I noticed this when I was working in the restaurant industry, and excelled quickly after said enlightenment because when we would get slammed with customers, I could see through the noise, and play on people's need for structure to get the job done.

I would "lead the charge," so to speak, and focus on one task at a time, showing my co-workers each task, explaining what I needed, then executing the tasks in an orderly fashion - as opposed to some others I've worked with, where it's ordered chaos at best. Most people latch on to people who take charge - wrong or right - simply because they need to be re-assured that it will all turn out alright in the end - whether it does or not.

Just my .02¢
-Mikhail

P.S.: I think that's why we get along so well here - we are all independent thinkers who need no leader to show us the path; except Our Empress, of course.

I would "lead the charge," so to speak, and focus on one task at a time, showing my co-workers each task, explaining what I needed, then executing the tasks in an orderly fashion - as opposed to some others I've worked with, where it's ordered chaos at best. Most people latch on to people who take charge - wrong or right - simply because they need to be re-assured that it will all turn out alright in the end - whether it does or not.

That is why the most effective command on a battlefield is "FOLLOW ME!"

Really? I thought it was "AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!"

Mikhail, who, if I ask nicely, might use his gun to shoot Sandra Lee wrote:I think that's why we get along so well here - we are all independent thinkers who need no leader to show us the path; except Our Empress, of course.

Independent thinking is all well and good and I'm for it, and find myself interested in talking to people who do it, and as I said, have passed on relationships with people who didn't. But then the world is filled with independent thinkers who understood that most people aren't, and used that knowledge to find people looking for things as an avenue to power. Jim Jones, who immortalized "drink the Kool-Aid," Adolph, the Moonies, and of course, Our Many Titted Empress.

What these people have in common is that understanding and a cynical will to manipulate and I think that I could make a case that the most important thing on earth is to strike down those people.

Independent thinking absent the will to power is wonderful. With a consuming will to power is so often disaster, and when you couple with it the fact that people who get in power, even Senatorial power, so often are not challenged in their thinking any more, because of the sycophants, that their thinking no longer is challenged by reality.

A wise friend once said that the problem with Ross Perot is that he was so rich for so long that no one had the guts to say, "Ross, you're fucking nuts."

Good points all, Theocritus. I too am guilty of enjoying a certain 'will to power,' as you put it.

Is this the Sandra Lee of which you speak? If so, I'll gladly put her against the wall for the Greater Good™


Bang, Bang.
-Mikhail

Being an independent thinker, even a great thinker, does not always equate to being wise. These points were made about Orwell, a greater writer beyond question. But was he a wise man?

Pupovich, no, I do not think that Orwell was a wise man. The epigram has always made people seem wiser than they really are. My Mac has a widget which every 15 seconds provides an Oscar Wilde quote--he was witty and funny but essentially foolish--a man of tastes rather than principles. As are all of Hollywood and MSM. Tastes are wonderful, in food, music, colors, and choice of car. But in matters of living one's life, they must be subjugated to ethics.

I suspect that Orwell's epigrams, and even his books can be viewed as long, extended epigrams which have entered into the language, and which have become metaphors that we all understand, have disguised that although he could spot problems, he could not solve them. There is a very good position for the boy who cries "The Emperor Has No Clothes"--a position I've held for all my life, to some extent--but notice that that is the position of the pin relative to a balloon, and after the balloon is deflated there is nothing left, leaving a vacuum. Which may not be bad.

I don't think that he was evil by any means, but I do give him credit for not sticking by failed ideas. He did seem to search for meaning and throw himself into it without standing back and pulling his chin and wondering. In a way he reminds me of an investigative reporter who <i>really</i> got into it.

I don't know of a solution. My faith failed me utterly but my cynicism, possibly coupled with laziness, keeps me from throwing myself into every new Weltanschaaung.

Mikhail, the will to power is actually essential or nothing would get done. I have the ability to manage things--I manage a business of my own and do it without problem. It just comes to me, and I can order other things too. A friend called the ability to manage a talent like any other. But I have utterly no desire to run others' lives, and perhaps too little, for reasons I understand, now, but which are tedious in this forum. But the greatest good in my lifetime has been Ronald Reagan, and his will to power was coupled with a genuine decency. There are other people running for president, Our Empress, John Edwards, Biden, &c. ad nauseam, who have nothing but a will to power. Notice that they are people who not attempt to address a problem but merely use the problem for access to power. That is evil.

(The right is not entirely exempt. For power certain people, Falwell, Dobson, had two threats to happy people: the Soviet Union and the homosexual agenda, as they would have it. After 1991 the first one died and now there's a queer under every bed plotting for the overthrow of everything. I had no idea that I was so evil or had an agenda. How silly of me. I merely insist on <i>equal</i> treatment under law, and vehemently reject preferential because I recognize the insult. As does <a href=" Thomas</a>. Plus it's not right.)

And Mikhael, yes, indeed that is the Sandra Lee that I meant. But since I asked you to shoot her, I realized that that was not nearly grisly enough for me. I think that I'll have her brought down to Rancho del Rio Grande and have her strapped into a chair in the room with the fire hoses and a drain in the middle where Mr. Reno, Our Many Titted Empress and Ellen Goodman have a marathon session with the Hildo Hydra 7.9 and tell her that not only will she have to clean it up, but she'll have to decorate before hand with a darling little orgyscape, using things that she got from the fabric store.

My only worry is that she would look at what was left over and get an idea for an entire season of "Semi-Homemade"; the woman actually has a degree in cooking, which is on the same level as Hannibal Lecter being a doctor.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:...My only worry is that she (Sandra Lee) would look at what was left over and get an idea for an entire season of "Semi-Homemade"; the woman actually has a degree in cooking, which is on the same level as Hannibal Lecter being a doctor.

I can tell you from experience, having a degree in cooking is like having a degree in picking your nose. All the truly extraordinary cooks I've encountered in my 15yr. career have been the ones who started as dishwashers, moved up to prep cook, then up to cook. "Chef" is just a glorified title for "Line Cook."

And don't forget, Lecter was a fabulous cook...

-Mikhail

P.S.: Sorry for drifting off topic - please resume broadcast already in progress...

You think these things have a rudder? I taught myself to cook from Julia Child, and so am, insofar as I'm a cook, a French one, which is odd here in West Texas where there is superlative Tex-Mex. Well, I have Italian influences too. The tiny kitchen here pretty much limits me but you don't need much for stewing and I've mastered the vinaigrette, which is so damned useful.

Now, in the huge kitchen that I'm doing in the house I bought and am doing a tear-out in, two ovens, bed-sided island, blue sodalite (I know it doesn't add to taste), lots of room, I plan to see what, I think, Brillat-Savarin said, "Anyone can cook but to roast is a talent."

(By the way, if you haven't read his <a href=" Physiology of Taste</a>, you're in for a treat. There is food, to be sure, but he's a wise and generous man, and adds to the six senses we have one of sex. I've thought on that for a decade. The translation, by M.F.K. Fisher, is perhaps the best I've read.)

Yes, Lecter was a fabulous cook: sweetbreads, fava beans and a nice chianti, as I recall. But he <i>trained</i> as a doctor and <i>killed</i> people. Saint Sandy <i>trained</i> as a cook and <i>poisons</i> with the saccharine gloop guaranteed to send sugar levels so high that no amount of insulin could possibly reclaim one.

She redefines precious. The woman I love to hate.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:You think these things have a rudder?

Heh, good point.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:I taught myself to cook from Julia Child, and so am, insofar as I'm a cook, a French one...

Julia is the best. I always loved it when she'd "cook" with wine - "A little splash for the veal, and a little splash for me..." - Classic!

Commissar Theocritus wrote:The tiny kitchen here pretty much limits me but you don't need much for stewing and I've mastered the vinaigrette, which is so damned useful.

Now, in the huge kitchen that I'm doing in the house I bought and am doing a tear-out in, two ovens, bed-sided island, blue sodalite (I know it doesn't add to taste), lots of room...

Yeah, you don't need much room, hell, I've worked in some shoeboxes over the years - and we fed hundreds per day. Basically you just need what we called the 'power triangle' - Stove, sink, fridge arranged so that all you need to do is turn and extend your arms to find everything you need. In a professional kitchen, if you can save three footsteps in a procedure you've saved yourself ten-thousand steps over the course of a week.

-Mikhail

But you do need more than 18" x 3' plus 12" x 12" plus 12" x 2' and you do need a dishwasher. The actual work area in the new kitchen is pretty small. And I'm not standing in my light 100% of the time. And the cabinets are 38" instead of 35".

Julia: "Let's go over to where the lettuce lives!" She'd miss a bowl and just throw it in. Well, why not? And then the blow torch. Always the blow torch. Well, of course, with creme brulee. And other things but it was a shock to those us raised by mothers who knelt before Betty Crocker. Her new method for creme fraiche is easy and good. Not that I need it.

I know that Jim Beard, on moving to New York, held big parties in which he'd put out food even in bathrooms--obviously before coke days--but I don't have that much energy and frankly wouldn't work that hard for people who live in a town where haute cuisine is the truck stop which doesn't completely always ruin food that comes in prepared. Put it like this: the food is meant for a truck-stop buffet. Have you seen the list of ingredients for one of those dressings: powdered blue cheese, nitrites, powered onion, nitrates, powdered garlic, palm oil (the stuff reeks), MSG, xantham gum, stabilizers, camel dung, and MTE snot to give it body. You could use it as a sterile medium for not even the HIV virus could live in it.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:Julia: "Let's go over to where the lettuce lives!" She'd miss a bowl and just throw it in. Well, why not? And then the blow torch. Always the blow torch...

I miss Julia. Here's a clip from Philip Morrison's 1987 PBS program "The Ring of Truth: Atoms" featuring Julia Child as an "applied biochemist" who uses her "artistry" to isolate pure carbon in a rather amusing way:

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And here's another where Jacques Pepin and Julia Child collaborate on a Provencale sandwich, Pain Bagnat:

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Bon Apatite!
-Mikhail

Ah, now this is a true chef.... the greatest!

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I wonder if Commissar Pupovich, our implant in Louisiana, has already mastered that sort of funny foreign talk (see training video above) that would allow him to pass for a native.

<karacter off>

The Ever Wise Mikhail T. Kalashnikov regarding Animal Farm wrote: Actually, that particular book was anti-Stalinist, not counter-revolutionary, Zamp.

Here's an overview of Orwell's political views, just FYI:

But to a Communist hardliner (and to Stalin, for that fact) Orwell would have been (and probably was) deemed an enemy to the Soviet state. Anti-Stalinist=Counter-Revolutionary, if one factors in the time period. And the prevailing satirical theme of The Cube™.

The Scholarly Comrade Theocritus wrote: Orwell was a man who knew his own mind, which is explained by his lack of fear in changing it as evidence mounted, and back then no one would have seen him in the utterly absurd position of say a Carville screaming louder as more evidence to the contrary mounts up.

This, in my opinion, demonstrates what a keen intellectual Orwell was. Was he wise? Well... we can debate that. And yet no matter how hard American socialists (e.g. Carville) try to portray themselves as "brilliant intellectuals" by preening and pontificating in front of the TV camera, they simply are not in the same league as Orwell. Especially James Carville!!! Who only succeeds in portraying himself as a pompous ass.

The way I see it, Carville and the others like him suffer from the same problem as the "Political Correctness" movement. They both think that they can "shout down" the opposition and silence the political speech/ideas that they find offensive. And by doing so, this will have the lasting effect of converting people's political beliefs and attitudes over to their side. The Left side. Or... they operate on the belief that if they shout'em down and shut'em up, the problem goes away.

The reality is, nothing could be further from the truth. One may be able to silence the "Hate Speech", as they like to call what conservatives say, but they do not change people's beliefs. If anything, they drive those with whom they disagree with underground. Where they will fester like a virus. Such a thing sort of reminds me of a virus called Nazism in the days before Hitler rose to power in Germany.

In the end, I think both Carville and the "P.C. Gestapo" wind up making themselves look like Kindergarteners.

--
Blokhayev

<karacter on>

The ever inquisitive Comrade Theocritus wrote: I have talked to many other gays in the military just the same way. Why, I wondered, join something which doesn't want you and which, if you're thrown out, would be seriously wrenching?

Male gays are denied the most important structure in life, the family, and for people whose minds need structure, which is nearly all the world, the military is a wonderful choice.

Having spent 10 years in the military, I think I can shed some light on this for you, comrade.

They problem is not gay men in the military ranks. The problem is a certain "class" (for lack of a better word) of gay men called "Flaming Queens" or as you have called them, BEQs. I have known and to this day still have friends in the military who are gay. And if you passed them on the street you have never known that they were. Then, there were the Queens. They do not last long in the military, because often times their outlandish behavior gets them into trouble. I've only known one guy who was a Flaming Queen who when off duty, could behave himself in such a way that was acceptable to the military's social standards. Alas, it was HIV that forced this poor guy out of the service.

I'll give you an example. This is a true story. I know it is because I was there. I worked with a bunch of guys in a unit called C.E.'s. (Construction Engineers). These guys were Air Force's version of your typical blue collar construction site worker with nicknames like "Moose", "Tiny" (he was 6'7"), "Animal", "Spike", and "Cajun" (he really was a Lou-zee-anna cajun). This group of guys worked hard, and partied harder. Whenever the C.E.s were planning to throw a barracks party, as soon as the work got to the Security Police squadron they told everyone who was scheduled to be off-duty to forget about that. They would have to be on duty because the C.E. were throwing a party. I remember this one party they set a couch on fire... but that is another story. Everyone was invited to their parties. This one party, one of the guys from the Hospital squadron brought his boyfriend (a Flaming Queen and big and tall dude) who was assigned to the Comm squadron to the C.E.'s party. Bad move. After a few drinks the Flaming Queen took a liking to Moose. And grabbed Moose on the ass. Moose was cool. He told him, "Look, I don't swing that way. If you don't bother me. I won't bother you." A few minutes go by... he grabs Moose's ass again. Moose was still cool, but more direct. "Look! I told you I am straight. If you grab my ass again, I'm going to put you through that wall.". It was a cinder block wall. A few minutes go by... and yep! He grabs Moose's ass a THIRD time. Moose picked him up and almost like a shot put, sent him flying into the cinder block wall... head first. He did not grab Moose's ass anymore that night. He had to leave. To go to the base hospital's E.R.


Here's my $0.02 in the matter.

There are homosexual freaks. And there are heterosexual freaks... but let's leave Meow out of this for now.

The military has a job to do. It has it's own social structure where discipline and good order are paramount. There is nothing wrong with gays and lesbians in the military in so far as I am concerned. Personal conduct that is unacceptable to military society (like sexual harassment), whether the offender is homosexual or heterosexual, male or female, will garner attention. And the military is quite adept at booting out the freaks, usually very quickly.

The military's argument that homosexuality disrupts good order is fallacious.

--
Blokhayev

Red Square wrote:I wonder if Commissar Pupovich, our implant in Louisiana, has already mastered that sort of funny foreign talk (see training video above) that would allow him to pass for a native.

How ya' are Comrade Red Square? Good times being passed on de bayou dis week as dem Bayou Tigers of LS and U itchin to square off agin dem Bukemeyes!

(Actually, I have a long way to go, but I try Red.)

Zampolit Blokhayev wrote:[
Here's my $0.02 in the matter.

There are homosexual freaks. And there are heterosexual freaks... but let's leave Meow out of this for now.

The military has a job to do. It has it's own social structure where discipline and good order are paramount. There is nothing wrong with gays and lesbians in the military in so far as I am concerned. Personal conduct that is unacceptable to military society (like sexual harassment), whether the offender is homosexual or heterosexual, male or female, will garner attention. And the military is quite adept at booting out the freaks, usually very quickly.

The military's argument that homosexuality disrupts good order is fallacious.

My $0.02 on it and out of character.... This is a decision that should be decided by the military period. The military is not the place to engage in social engineering or political correctness. Another issue I think that would have to be considered is the same issues we are seeing in the country, Lets say the military drops it's current system and allows gays to serve openly. Would the next be transvestites as well? May seem fallacious, but that is exactly what we are seeing in California now and other places, and I don't think it is too hard to imagine the sort of problems that would indeed lead to in the military. No, let the military decide what is best to meet this country's needs.

Zampolit Blokhayev wrote:But to a Communist hardliner (and to Stalin, for that fact) Orwell would have been (and probably was) deemed an enemy to the Soviet state. Anti-Stalinist=Counter-Revolutionary, if one factors in the time period.

Comrade Zampolit Blokhayev, where on Lenin's green earth does everyone get this mistaken idea that I had anything but admiration for Comrade Orwell? We kept copies of his books in every office for a little light reading. In fact, we got some very good ideas from him as well.

I can only conclude that some fascist counter-revolutionary was able to fool the media into thinking that I authorized some "death squad" to come for Comrade Orwell. How far from the truth! I was merely trying to send him an invitation to come dine with me and be awarded a Hero of Socialist Labor medal for his fine fiction.

Please don't fall for these deceptions Zampolit.

Hail Lenin
Hail Hilary

While I am here, please allow me to inquire how the Chairnan's is doing today? I read with much sadness in my heart at the unbelievable manner he was treated, While I have only known the Chairman for a brief time, I see in the Chairman many of the fine traits that I like to think I have to offer for the Common Good™. The Chairman's heart is strong and in the right place, and it offends me when others cause him distress, and when I am offended, well, let's just say "Soviet Happens" if you catch my drift.

So Chairman, where ever you are tonight, I just wanted to wish you my best. I hope you enjoyed the Faberge Hummel I had delivered to your dacha along with some of my best Vodka and silver chiller. It was just a little something I wanted to send you to help you recover from the shameful way you were treated the other day.

<Karakter Off>

Zampolit Blokhayev wrote:But to a Communist hardliner (and to Stalin, for that fact) Orwell would have been (and probably was) deemed an enemy to the Soviet state. Anti-Stalinist=Counter-Revolutionary, if one factors in the time period. And the prevailing satirical theme of The Cube™.

Point taken. However, Orwell's Animal Farm was a satirical allegory of the Russian Revolution, particularly directed against Stalin's policies. The major theme is the betrayal of the Russian Revolution and the nature of Stalin's rise to power, i.e., becoming a totalitarian dictator. Essentially Orwell wanted "to save Socialism from Communism."

I see what you are saying, I just don't think there is an equivalence between being Anti-Stalinist and Counter-Revolutionary, in my opinion, considering Orwell was making the point that Stalin was Counter-Revolutionary.

However, as you point out, the theme of The Cube™ trumps all else.

Inter arma enim silent leges.
-Mikhail

<Karakter On>

P.S.: Hello Uncle Iosif, good to see you again - it has been too long.

Mikhail T. Kalashnikov wrote:P.S.: Hello Uncle Iosif, good to see you again - it has been too long.

It is good to see you again Comrade Kalashnikov. How is the family? I hope you enjoyed the targets I sent you after my latest house cleaning. I told Beria to make sure the ones he sent had already crapped their pants so as not to cause any unsightly clean up afterwards. Oh. and I hope you enjoyed the silver bullet casings I sent.

BTW, be sure to keep your gun in the usual prime condition, I understand there may be a need for it come Sunday's Purge of the Criminal Kommissar.

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Pupovich wrote:Would the next be transvestites as well? May seem fallacious, but that is exactly what we are seeing in California now and other places, and I don't think it is too hard to imagine the sort of problems that would indeed lead to in the military. No, let the military decide what is best to meet this country's needs.

I have a problem with slippery-slope arguments. Bear in mind that the extreme example of a slippery-slope argument is the one which leads Muslims to force women to wear burqas, so that there is no possibility of a man defiling a woman. (Who is chattel but that's another story. No one said it was rational.) A slippery-slope argument rejects the idea there there is such a thing as judgment, and renders invalid every law with the word "reasonable" in it.

But I do believe that the military is too important to be a hotbed of social engineering. If the military is deeply uncomfortable with <i>any</i> gays, then I can see banning gays, but from what Zamp said, it is not. I personally am deeply uncomfortable with queens, having suffered from several myself.

In fact, over a month ago when I was in El Paso, I went on a pilgrimage to the place where I pulled out the hair of the BEQ and here it is:

But that man was an embarrassment anywhere. I wouldn't be seen anywhere in public with her if I didn't have to, and the pronoun was deliberate. There was only one reason for that short-lived liaison and I promise you that gay or straight the blood to the nether regions is the same, but I had the added advantage of not requiring any courting, dinner, drinks, sweet talk, or preliminaries. In fact once at a bar I was accosted by, "You're cute. Wanna fuck?" It was a grudge but hey! I'm a man. And there is a definite downside to this, and not only the diseases too, but that's for another time. One can get shopworn.

Zamp, what you said about knowing that there were gays in the military pleases me. Knowing you I didn't think that you'd be upset, but the fact that evidently they weren't in ultra-deep closet is a good thing. I don't think that it's necessary to parade one's homosexuality all the time, and I find trading in it distasteful--after all, if you do that, then that's all you are. And I'm a good deal more than gay. It's not all that high up on the list when you think about it--look at the list of friends I have, the interests, but then no one has ever accused me of being a copy of anyone else.

The reason that I am perhaps more sensitive than others is that here in West Texas in my living memory if the cops found out you were gay, you were asked to leave town. I'm not kidding. I was afraid to go on overnight school trips, because I might talk in my sleep. And I don't want anyone ever to feel like that, nor to be crippled by that and it took me literally decades to quit editing my life for acceptability. And on the street I pass as straight except to the cognoscenti, which is what I want. And what's odd is that since I came out, the inner queen, what little there was, which was repressed, utterly died. Some of my best friends now are Aggies, and Aggies from the Corps, too, and they know about me and the odd thing is that since I became honest I became more respectable than a mere Rice intellectual. Well, that's just fine with me.

OUT OF CHARACTER (but not the closet LOL) I agree the slippery slopes argument can be false,,,, but then again, as we are seeing in California and other places now, it is a real possibility. Now all this is well and good or bad, in general society, But the military is not the place for it. What Zamp says is correct as I see it, but it also seems that pretty much fits into the current policy as well, though perhaps it could be tweaked some. But I damn sure don't think Congress or even the President, though they ultimately do have the power, should be setting the policy because they do respond to the current cultural attitude, what the polls say without regard to the needs of an organization such as the military, The Chief of Staffs should be the ultimate say so on this issue IMHO. Right or wrong, the military does live to a different standard than other workplaces. Look at their recent change on how they view tattoos.

I don't know, but I really get hot under the collar when I hear the crap going on in San Francisco. On the one hand, they do everything they can to bring every sort of "diverse" group into the schools, city council and everything else, while at the same time they actually tried to prohibit the Blue Angels from performing because that promotes "war,"

I also hear what you have to say about the way gays were treated in the past by most people, and some still treat the same way. I dare say much of that has gone the way of buzz cuts and foam dice in cars (though I understand the Chairman's Volga still has a nice pair).

All that being said Commissar, always know I respect and really am glad I have gotten to know you. I talk about you a lot to my friends (not to denounce you or anything,, LOL), but because I admire you,

IN Character - I denounce myself for that last sentimental statement!

Esteemed marksman Mikhail wrote:Inter arma enim silent leges

Indeed. And therefore let us never forget the permanent revolution so that all laws are transitory and malleable and are what we say they are. Let us never forget that some of our brothers, such as James Carville, employ <i>arma oris</i>, giving a new meaning to shooting off one's mouth. (Sorry.)

Bullying, I've found, is jolly good fun. Steamrollering over people is fun too. I've practiced it all my life, starting on the playground, and continuing up through education until now I routinely bully clerks over the phone--when I can't steal what I want. (I really must get Meow to tell me how to steal through a telephone, but I never have the time. I've been concentrating on reaching through the telephone to strangle realtors and mortgage brokers and that emotion is more vivid and compelling than theft over the phone, but then I don't have Meow's unbridled and uncontrollable greed. Which poses a question: does Meow have a talent or is it just the biggest greed this side of Matthew Lesko?)

And of course being a good Progressive, I stand in awe, or rather kneel in in awe in front of a picture of Dear Father Lenin, who may not have murdered, er, shown as many people the light as say Stalin or Mao, but let's never forget our spiritual fathers.

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Commissar Pupovich wrote:I don't know, but I really get hot under the collar when I hear the crap going on in San Francisco. On the one hand, they do everything they can to bring every sort of "diverse" group into the schools, city council and everything else, while at the same time they actually tried to prohibit the Blue Angels from performing because that promotes "war."

Yes, but bear in mind that they are unhinged in everything. They built an animal shelter for strays and each dog had its own room with television. Bums complained, with justice, that they didn't get as much. And the bums made a bee-line for SF for the hand-outs, and because the stench of pee was so offensive that generosity went out the window, and that money went for the animal shelter.

Adopted animals with medical problems come with medical subsidies. But if a pro-life protestor set a foot one inch inside the property line of an abortion clinic, then there would be howling from every corner about Nazis. That's utterly nuts.

My mother had a superlative dictum. "Your rights end where my nose begins." Which is of course antithetical to all that goes on here in the Cube and I beg your indulgence in not revealing that. In fact if you do not, I won't tell Meow that you stole his Hummels.

I too had a sense of outrage over the screaming queens, and then of shame, and now my stance is merely one of being myself, all the time. For the first time in my life I am the same at home, at work, in public, in foreign cities, and the odd thing is that it shows. Very strange. I have a wise friend, Katie, who is 76, very politically experienced, traveled, intelligent, who joked, "Theocritus, you have a gravitas and it's not fair. You're only 52." It came, if it exists, only by being of one piece.

Two years ago people read my body language, which was compounded by illness and other things, but still I was ignorable. And miserable. Over Thanksgiving I spent four nights at the Westin River Walk and the management was falling all over itself, comping things, arranging things, offering things. I know it's a Westin, one of the better ones, but I am not a shareholder. I asked for nothing special and demanded nothing. Why? I was as low-key as possible. Why did this happen? What does this say about second-hand people in the Randian sense?

Notice that this is utterly different from self-dramatization, which is by definition a lie and a deceit. But I'm so cussed that I view attempts to claim my attention as attempts to control me--which they in fact are. I see in flamboyance, again, the need to live in others' lives, by whatever means possible. There are people who flew to the island where Anna Nichol Smith died, and when asked why, said that they wanted their faces to be in the crowds tapes by news crews, to be a part of history. Is there a difference?

And thanks.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:< off>
My mother had a superlative dictum. "Your rights end where my nose begins." Which is of course antithetical to all that goes on here in the Cube and I beg your indulgence in not revealing that. In fact if you do not, I won't tell Meow that you stole his Hummels.

ODD...Off Character: You know, that is something I have always remembered my 5th grade teacher saying, like it was yesterday... Your rights end where mine begin, Looks like we are the same age Commissar, or I am just a wee bit younger having just turned 52, but the last time I had any gravitas was in my biker days.. LOL

I tell you, the world has gone crazy. I was telling someone today that growing up when I did, I never could have conceived this country in it's current state.

Twp stories for example.... Baseball Mascot Gets New Name After 'PorkChop' Is Deemed Offensive Seems at least one person was offended by this name...."Guillermo Lopez, vice president of the Latino Leadership Alliance, said he was called "pork chop" when he worked at Bethlehem Steel decades ago." He would really have had a fit about a friend from my biker days we all knew as "Taco." Same guy I caused a near riot at a redneck bar filled with a bunch of KKK'ers shouting "Duke! Duke! Duke! at me after I told my bud Taco that those clowns hated him just as much as they did blacks all that time they were "good ol boying" him since one of them was running for election.
<br>Then this really struck me...Self-proclaimed bisexual MTV star Tila Tequila may actually be stick-straight Gasp! "Tila has and has had a boyfriend for over a year, and she's not really bi. She's made out with some girls in her past, as all girls have, but she is not bi at all," the source said.

Yes, I may be an ex-hardcore biker, now I guess I am just a prude. But having been born in the fifties, I could never imagine times like these....