I hope that this Thanksgiving was a good one for all party members--it was for me, primus inter pares, of course. CBS and CNN hate George Bush more than they love America, but then any old excuse to trash America so we can't claim that much of a win. The stock market is tanking, all the better to proclaim an emergency, Osama Obama just doesn't have the pull that Our Many Titted Empress has--not that he could ever hold a candle to her spell-binding combination of power-mania, greed, nastiness and dishonesty--all those things I really love in a candidate. America's stock in the world has never been lower, either--with an acknowledged moron for president.

It took the Bushitler six years and ten months to get down to an approval rating of 32%, and it took the Democratic congress only ten months to get to an approval rating of 5/8 that, and those are the people who are calling Bush incompetent and stupid. CNN hates Bush and loves the Democrats. How good is that?

I tell you, this old socialist's heart is light as can be. As light in fact as the feet of that silly Bruno after I gave him his Xmas (the X stands for Marx) gift early--some ruby-red slippers. I know, I know, he had to promise not to bring them out when the Politburo was in session. The last time that he came prancing out in something like that, we had two cases of ventrical fibrillation. I told him that a bustier on him, after all that gym time, would not be Rocky Horror Picture Show retro but would he listen? No. And to make things worse, he patted Barbara Boxer on the head and called her his Pocket Rocket. Anyway, after the furniture throwing, and it was someone else's furniture in a house that the owner had foolishly let me house-sit, all was as fine as a May Day Parade in the sun.

To celebrate all this, I need to mention something that happened after you returned from the End of the AmeriKKKan Era Bash at Rancho del Rio Grande. I had a great time, and I have already called the police to investigate about any valuables which may have gone missing from your luggage. I run a tight ship and utterly will not brook anyone sneaking in to steal my honored guests' valuables. Even if all the valuables didn't come in the matched sets that they should have and with the boxes for easy resale.

But after all was said and done, I was going through the rooms, just to make sure that no honored guest had left anything behind that he might, er, need and that I should instantly forward, I came across a scrap of paper. It was a slander against our Many Titted Empress.

Bill and Hillary were driving one night in Arkansas and Bill ran over a family of skunks. Bill slammed on the brakes and Hillary got out and ran back to where the skunks were.

"Bill. You've killed the mother and all but one of the babies!"

"So what? They don't have cash or knee pads."

"One of the babies is still breathing. Do you think we can get a good photo-op?"

Bill thought and said, "Well, yes. There's always some moron from MacPaper who'll buy crap like that. Bring it in the car."

Hillary brought the baby skunk into the car and put it between her legs to keep it warm.

"Bill," she asked, "What about the smell?"

"Put a cloth over its nose and it'll be fine."

It seems that one of my honored guests is a traitor. And it's time for a purge.

Unbelievable! Simply unbelievable! First it is unbelievable that even with all the good news about the MSM, the stock market failing, us still losing in Iraq etc, that you had a good Thanksgiving? Have you no heart for the loss that our indigenous Amerikans had to suffer yesterday?

Of course I know that you did not mean it that way Commissar, and I did note that your said "party members" and there was certainly no reason we shouldn't enjoy ourselves da? Yes, clearly you may have a traitor amongst your guests, but then that would suggest that perhaps you err in your choice of guests and we can't have that can we? It is more likely that you were just being tested by SMERSH or Hillary's campaign workers to see how you would respond to the plant. Of course, it really should not hold us up from having a purge any way since a little bloodletting is always refreshing.

Thankfully, I was not in attendance at your party, being overwhelmed with the traditional after Thanksgiving rush at the Pup's Peoples Pleasure House. So could you share the names of your guests so we can decide who to purge? Or shall we just pick one at random?

It wasn't me, I was too busy stealing wallets at a GOP fundraiser.

"We need a purge. And I mean it"

Thats what I say every time I find my my waffle improperly prepared only to find out I was the commissar in waffle and pastry preparation. How embarrassing. But I the end some prole gets purged, and Bush receives the blame for his subsequent "unemployment." Against a wall, blind folded, and with bullets.

Yay! Another purge! Who's it gonna be?

Premier Betty wrote:Yay! Another purge! Who's it gonna be?

You know, the Chairman has been seeming rather tired and lonely lately, like maybe he needs to get the old blood flowing again....

He doesn't need a purge for that, just a toaster making toasted bagels.

But then come to think of it, he sounded like he wanted to meet your non-existent sister didn't he? A purge is a good way to meet people eh?

True, but he will go after anything that has 1 or more holes... or slots... or vents.

I wonder if Meow's troubles came from sticking a fork in Helen--that could have been the shock that sent him over the edge. And he's just not been his usual larcenous self lately. And here's comrade dirk saying that <i>he</i> was stealing wallets at a GOP fundraiser. In Meow's olden days dirk would have been lying on the floor, with Meow's footprints up his back while Meow was going on, and lying on his back, with Meow's footprints, heavier for the load, on his front with Meow going back in.

And Comrade Hasan has learned the first rule of being a good Progressive--it's someone else's fault. You're too fat? It's someone else's fault. I nominate Newton for he's the bugger who pointed out that gravity stuff.

Excellent point Commissar, I wonder now if the Chairman is even up to a purge much less being the subject of one. He has shown a lack of larceny lately, one could almost wonder if he has a heart or something. Perhaps the holidays got him to thinking about the plight of the Indians, though of course it is more likely he started feeling sad over the plight of his Hummels. Hsu's to say?

Not sure what good purging a necro voter like Newton would do now. Surely we can do better than that. Who haven't we purged lately?

Wait a minute.... how about Zampolit Blokhayev? Has not recently been hobnobbing with decadent beach bunnies down in the traitorous state of Florida? We even have pictures. And have you received a report on his activities? Have you received even a token gratuity from his trip?

And here's comrade dirk saying that he was stealing wallets at a GOP fundraiser. In Meow's olden days dirk would have been lying on the floor, with Meow's footprints up his back

I don't understand. What have I done wrong? I was stealing from the evil KKKapitalist republicans. I thought that was good!

Oh, I don't believe the Commissar thinks you were doing wrong, only that the Chairman seems a bit out of sort that he didn't beat you to it or try and take your <s>booty</s> contributions.

It did seem weird that there was no Chairman trying to redistribute my <s> plunder</s> donations.

Well, it wasn't me because I didn't get invited to comrade Theo's big National Day Of Bitterness And Mourning bash. Besides, there's nothing funny about Her Highness, so why tell "jokes" involving her.

As for who to purge? I dunno, call Jon Klein at CNN and order him to purge some lackey over that whole "staged questions" screw up. Who cares if the person is actually "guilty" because this is about feeling good, not achieving results.

comrade dirk, I am the last person to chastise you for lifting the wallets of the Grumpy Old Party. The last one. I was merely pointing up, as an incentive, the speed with which Meow <i>used</i> to lift wallets. I remember once we were having a bash at Rancho del Rio Grande and one of the guests got dead drunk, on absinthe and widow's tears, of course, the strongest narcotic for a progressive, and when he woke up, Meow had stolen the tattoo off his chest. Now the finger was instantly pointed at Bruno of course, but I pointed out the delicacy of the work and all agreed that only the Chairman could have managed that. After all, cutting off 1/10 mm of skin with a knife while a drunk snored? And then bottling the blood and selling it? Now that has Meow's fingerprints all over it.

But since Meow is AWOL I wonder if he's setting up some sort of putsch. After all, I wouldn't put it past him. The last time Our Many Titted Empress was out at the Ranch, she gave one of her perorations--so long that even Cubans used to Castro walked out--and Meow actually <i>fell asleep</i> in the middle of it.

Not only was that shockingly rude, but it was also dangerous as hell. Bruno's predecessor once did that and she has a carry-on bag made out of his skin. Sometimes when her hands are full the hangs the strap on one of her tusks. Ah, the mixed emotions that that brings. I mean, anything for Our Many Titted Empress. I recall in the mid seventies when <i>The Omen</i> came out and I thought, "There's the fellow for us." But in 1992 I realized we had the real thing in Our Supermammalian Empress. But Carlo was a very good house boy and not nearly as flighty as Bruno. So you see my problem.

Still, anything for the cause. Because when Our Empress mounts her Throne, to become Protector of the Peace, Ruler of the Sun, and Queen of the Moon, I'll have, oh, roughly six billion slaves to choose from. Party members excepted, of course.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:But since Meow is AWOL I wonder if he's setting up some sort of putsch. After all, I wouldn't put it past him. The last time Our Many Titted Empress was out at the Ranch, she gave one of her perorations--so long that even Cubans used to Castro walked out--and Meow actually <i>fell asleep</i> in the middle of it.

Perhaps that would explain the righteous behavior of some Progressive McDonald Customers recently. This sounds like a group you may know Commissar? This capitalist pig certainly should have seen it coming when those heels and ear rings came off.

I must admit that as scary as this scene must have been, you have me worried thinking of the plans that the Chairman may be laying. Something is up! You can almost feel it in the air....never mind. Get out of my pocket Comrade Dirk!

Rumor has it that the manager at McDonald's was wearing the same outfit, which Would Not Do. I particularly like the bit about throwing the grease. I didn't know you had to in McDonalds--I've not had a Big Mac since 1974 but as I recall the air was festooned with cheap grease. Or is that Long John Silvers?

Ever since I acceded to the pinnacles of Party Membership though, I no longer frequent such infra dig. places. Nothing less than a Westin or Four Seasons for me, and only then when I have the chef's full attention. Which means of course keeping Meow out of his pockets.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:Nothing less than a Westin or Four Seasons for me, and only then when I have the chef's full attention. Which means of course keeping Meow out of his pockets.

I can well imagine how difficult that must be... or should I say was, as it seems the Chairman's larcenous ways have been sadly lacking of late. It is a sad state of affairs when Comrade Dirk is racking in more contributions than the Chairman. Do you want to know how bad it is? I actually sent one of my employees to his dacha this week under the guise of collecting money for orphaned dyslexic toasters.... the Chairman actually broke down and cried at the story she made up, and contributed $2500 and some loose change, and went back inside muttering something about Hummels! *Thanks Chairman!*

Now mind you, I am not meaning to disparage the Chairman. Far be it from me. I am being an old softie again and trying to encourage the Chairman to get back on his feet.

BTW, I shared the McDonald's story with my very progressive supervisor today. Hie reply was "Never, EVER mess with a drag queen. Seriously." LOL!

Get out of my pocket Comrade Dirk!

I was simply handing you a wallet I retrieved at the rethuglican fundraiser through honest, progressive means (armed robbery).

the Chairman actually broke down and cried at the story she made up, and contributed $2500 and some loose change, and went back inside muttering something about Hummels!

The Chairman has been at Hummel Boot Camp hardening his Hummels into lethal killing machines. The world will tremble with his Hummel assemble.

What I have here is classified footage taken at great risk of the Chairman's Hummels on a covert operation expropriating the pension of a DAR member.
I would advise Party members that the Chairman may be planning a counter-purge and Theocritus and the Pup are on his short list.

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HA! I knew it! I knew something smelled like <s>yesterday's</s> (nah, that's still quite fresh) <s>last week's</s> (nyet, that's still edible if one adds vodka to the broth) last month's beets when Pupovich wanted to take the pearls or diamonds that belong to Her Excellency, and which She has entrusted to me so they don't fall into the hands of those Bushgoons.

All your best laid plans are sinking--like that cruise ship off Antarctica last week that ran into icebergs, which are on the increase because of Global Warming--and don't give me that crap about spring thaw and some jet stream in the seas down in the southern hemisphere that's sending icebergs up north. I've heard that same argument in reverse--that that's what happened in the springtime in the northern hemisphere 95 years ago, but we know that was also Global Warming caused by Bush, and how do we know?

Because Leonardo DiCaprio was there! It's even been documented on Oscar-winning film, just like Al Gore's film! Coincidence? I think not.

Now where was I? Oh yes. You two commissars are deep deep doo-doo now. At least I have an alibi. I've been digging ditches because of all the Putinka, Leninade, and Rock Star stuff I've been drinking For The Party. And For The People. And especially For The Children!

Laika the Space Dog wrote:I would advise Party members that the Chairman may be planning a counter-purge and Theocritus and the Pup are on his short list.

Gasp! But why Laika? Why? Have I not been doing my very best to help the Chairman to break out of the funk he has been in? Why. I can think of nothing that would please me more than to see the Chairman happy and prosperous again (provided his prosperity comes from OPM and OPMM.... *Other Party Member's Money* as well!) Was it not I who tried to direct his leering eyes to the wealth Comrade Dirk has been amassing behind his back? Was it not I who sent one of my most prized workers over to his dacha to see how he was doing (and how much we wanted to contribute as well)? Was it not I who gave the Chairman his birthday wish? Laika! Don't you realize that you are delusional?! DELUSIONAL?!!!?"

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If that doesn't work, then all I can say is...

Chairman! It was Commissar Theocritus! He did it! Take him! Take Commissar Theocritus! I saw him hiding money and Hummels he confiscated from you! He said it was Bush's fault, It was Bush! Any one but me! Not me! *Whimpering like a scared puppy* *Sob*

Commissarka Pinkie wrote:At least I have an alibi. I've been digging ditches because of all the Putinka, Leninade, and Rock Star stuff I've been drinking For The Party. And For The People. And especially For The Children!

Just what sort of example is that for an exalted Commissarka? Hmmm? Seems to me you need to get in touch with your inner comrade Pinkie!

It was her Chairman! It was Pinkie! Take her! Oh dear Lenin Take Her! It was her and... and... Commissar Theocritus! I will tell you everything!

Oh, do get with the program, Pupovich. "Digging ditches" is part of the New People's Progressive Slang. It means to get ripped. Soused. Loaded. Wasted. When I say I'm digging ditches, that means I'm drinking vodka.

Now get your paws off Her Excellency's pearls or diamonds, and stop doing that thing with your tail and those puppy dog brown eyes. Stop it, I say!

And, Pupovich, I hate to tell you this, but Commisarka Pinkie and I have become quite tight--getting tight. I've redecorated Meow's room at the Rancho del Rio Grande del Teocrito here in South Texas just for her and she's brought her personal chef. (For "beets" read "foie gras.") I put my finger in the wind and figured out some things. Since Meow's been, er, AWOL, that is, Absent Without Lenin, Our Many Titted Empress has a nasty gleam in her eye and gored one of my leather couch cushions with her tusks, and I figured, hey, go with the flow. What Hill wants, Hill gets. You just don't <i>know</i> the carnage she can wreak when she's really really pissed off.

And I figured that there was some slight directed at me with that drag-queen/McDonald's story. Now I've never done drag--except once as Ethel Merman at a Halloween party, and I didn't shave anything, which may or may not have made me hairier than Merman--but no one was fooled. (I say that because no one that I know will admit to abiding Ethel Merman.) But even though I'm not really pissed off, I figure it's time to get some victim cred going here. I mean, after all, I've been one of the party regulars for so long, without any special pleading other than the usual larceny, arrogance, self-obsession and other things that we leftists are so good at, and I figured I just might have to play the pink card.

Not that I want to, you understand--it would require some seriously emetic changes here. You know, all that Streisand shit and I'd have to let Bruno's inner bitch out, and it's hard enough keeping that thing bottled up as it is.

And can you imagine the fight between Bruno's Inner Bitch and Our Many Titted Empress? Now I know that she, on past form, would be an easy winner, but I could after all gaff him by whispering in his ear things like, "Hillary thinks that Cher is a skank who looks like an aardvark and sings like a fog horn."

But in this game, it's All for the Children, All for the People.

And all, of course, just for little old me.

Pinkie, will you have some more Stolie? How do you like those ice cubes made of frozen virgin's blood? Hillary won't mind. I got a really good deal from the blood bank at Brownsville. They weren't looking.

Commissarka Pinkie wrote:Oh, do get with the program, Pupovich. "Digging ditches" is part of the New People's Progressive Slang. It means to get ripped. Soused. Loaded. Wasted. When I say I'm digging ditches, that means I'm drinking vodka.

Now get your paws off Her Excellency's pearls or diamonds, and stop doing that thing with your tail and those puppy dog brown eyes. Stop it, I say!

Great Stalin's Ghost! And an old comrade like me is supposed to know this slang? But it matters not...I can pick some other patsy... I hope. Actually, I am just trying to get the Chairman back to his old self, for The Common Good™.

Now look deeply into my eyes.... follow the twitching tail....You are getting drowsy...

Commissar Pupovich wrote: Now look deeply into my eyes.... follow the twitching tail....You are getting drowsy...

Zzzzzzzz....

Commissar Theocritus wrote:And, Pupovich, I hate to tell you this, but Commisarka Pinkie and I have become quite tight--getting tight.

So! You admit to being part of a cabal? I knew it!

Out of Character: Bur seriously....I can assure there was not even the hint of "some slight directed at me with that drag-queen/McDonald's story." I just thought it was an incredibly funny story and thought you would appreciate it more than most.... that and that your post seemed the most obvious one I could sort of link it to. That is also why the very next person I told about it was my gay boss. I am still trying to picture it. LOL! Though actually, it sounded very very dangerous. Anytime you are talking about tire irons and throwing hot grease..... But you know what I really thought was funny? The fact that with all this... tire irons and everything, about the only injury mentioned was the guy getting scratched. Somehow that just made me laugh. Now on to the topic at hand....

Commissar! I denounce you for you cabal making behind the Chairman's back! Take him Chairman! Take Theocritus! *Doing my best Room 101 imitation*

When I say I'm digging ditches, that means I'm drinking vodka.

Back on the People's Collective Farm #6642071321 we called it "getting plowed." Ah memories...I recall one night when we got plowed, sub-soiled, disk-harrowed, lightly seeded with winter wheat, cultipacked and finally combined. Felt like I'd spent a year in the gulag the next morning, but I swear I had a long conversation with Vladimir Illych himself that night.

Pupovich wrote:I can assure there was not even the hint of "some slight directed at me with that drag-queen/McDonald's story." I just thought it was an incredibly funny story and thought you would appreciate it more than most.... that and that your post seemed the most obvious one I could sort of link it to. That is also why the very next person I told about it was my gay boss. I am still trying to picture it.

Believe me, boy, that didn't fret me. (1) It wasn't insulting; (2) it was hilarious; (3) the idea of rampaging drag queens <i>with a tire iron</i> is hilarious, reminding me of the Bug-Eyed Queen in my past with the half gallon of Eagle Rare Bourbon, and (4) I've taken real shots, and this ain't one.

I hereby give full indulgence to any Party Member to make any crack s/h/it wants. What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.

Thank you Commissar, I was a bit worried there for a moment. I hereby renounce myself for renouncing you. Oh Dear Lenin... what is wrong with me? What was in that vodka I liberated from the Chairman's house? That was vodka wasn't it? In the clear bottle in the cabinet in his Toaster collection room? It's like I can't remember anything I did the past few days. In fact, I don't remember anything... it is all a blank!

Wait. Do you mean that Meow has a toaster collection? Now I've for everyone having all that he wants, but an excess of some things indicated bourgeois excess. No wonder Helen popped her tarts over someone else. Why even I am circumspect. I do not have a houseboy collection, after all.

Not on this side of the river anyway. That would be, like, so, <i>de trop</i>.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:Wait. Do you mean that Meow has a toaster collection?

Whoops! Did I say that? Perhaps I misinterpreted the scene I saw. Perhaps he was just running an appliance repair service as a hobby? I must admit I was a bit taken by the way most of the toasters were chained to the wall, as if they would run away if not restrained. But he seemed to take good care of them... even had some sort of leather "toaster brush" is the best way I can describe it. I saw he had a couple of loose ones that he clearly intended for a contribution, so I accepted them gracefully and left quietly. They have given me excellent service I might add.

BTW... I may have found the best victim to purge.... George Sorros! Yes, I know that doesn't sound right, but we need to keep a very close watch on him. Seems Comrade George has been Dining With Satan! Now I know ordinarily the Party would not care about one of our useful idiots dining with a non-existent entity, but this particular demon? On the other hand, it is also possible Sorros is the one doing the recruiting. I am just saying, keep a sharp eye out Comrades!

I would hate to think ill of George Soros. After all, he's red of tooth and claw. He made his millions off the backs of the British tax payer, forcing them out of the ERM, I think that it was, and now he comes to a nation not his own with the idea of running it. Such a sweet fellow. Like Howard Zinn as a matter of fact.

I so love these people who leave a truly progressive place and come to another place which is not sufficiently progressive and try to make it just like the one that they ran away from.

I am sure he is probably safe, but you never know do you? Not when they have a secretive lunch like that.

Ivan Betinov wrote:

Back on the People's Collective Farm #6642071321 we called it "getting plowed." Ah memories..

Great Stalin's Ghost Ivan! What we have heah is a failure to communicate. Don't ever admit that you "got plowed" down heah for we have a totally different interpretation of that term.