Government is here to help us!

Comrades, rejoice at how the People's Republik of Washington is going out of their way to protect people from themselves!

I must now display a sticker warning people about carbon monoxide dangers onboard my boat. The law requires I put this important warning in a place where passengers can see it. So I did.


 

You own a boat!? And it's big enough to have a head? Comrade I must denounce you for owning property. Shame on you.

Grab your Party issued shovel, some warm clothes and report to the train depot. You know the drill.
 

Comrade Whoopie, you clearly do not understand. This is my floating Revolutionary Headquarters and private yacht all rolled into one. As a Colonel I am forced to use certain things to achieve my progressive ends.

Therefore I must denounce YOU Comrade Whoopie for denouncing me. Nobody begrudges Theocritus his Rancho, or Pupovich his Pleasure Palace. I too, get my yacht.
 

...and if that's a Party-Issued™ "Yacht", it's certainly in line with being equal and socialist. I'm sure Comrade Whoopie has seen the picture of it grounded. Most Capitali$t Pigs would simply call that a sailboat... bloated they are with their hoarded riches.
 

Colonel 7.62,

I DENOUNCE you for denouncing Comrade Whoopie, that is, unless you give us a ride on your boat.
 

Comrade Colonel,

while the action of the Soviet of Washington seems at first look indeed progressive and laudable, the member of the central committee did not realize that these toilets can easily be used to "help out" the few reactionaries that can still be found around Puget Sound. Remove the sticker, and you have yourself an instant gas chamber, err, shower for them, just like the ones Chedolf used in the defunct theme parks to clean up the dirty joos.
 

Comrade 7.62,

I think Hope™ that our government will Change™ to make us learn, as some of these Iranians are learning (protesting Ahmadinejad's foregone win), that it's not nice to mess with Mother F***er.
 

Leninka

Colonel 7.62,

I DENOUNCE you for denouncing Comrade Whoopie, that is, unless you give us a ride on your boat.

Blackmail. Most progressive. I approve. You still can't have a ride on my boat though. After all, you denounced me, which makes you suspect, which in turn means I will have to send a Revolutionary Observation and Gay Bath House Squad to monitor you.
 

Comrades please, all these denunciations are confusing and risk bankrupting the commune to purchase enough ammo for the firing squad.

Here's a compromise. Colonel 7.62 will give every Party member a ride in his our boat when they're in town and each Party member who asks for a ride in the People's boat must bring a ration of potatoes, beets and vodka for our comrade Commodore Colonel.

Also, Party members are advised not to pee on the official gov. warning label when using the head. The Colonel will likewise refrain from funneling engine exhaust into the head while people are using it.

Now let us all cheer Colonel 7.62 for sharing his wretched excess with the People while cautioning him that the accumulation of wealth and status is counter-revolutionary.
 

At least you've affixed the warning sticker in the place most likely to emit noxious fumes.



Earlier this century, we had the opportunity to live in newly constructed military (i.e. run by the government) housing. In addition to the battery-powered smoke alarms, every housing unit included a carbon monoxide alarm.

I could see this if there were gas appliances in the house, or an attached garage where someone might be stupid and/or suicidal enough to leave the car running with the garage door closed, but there were no garages, and except for those smoke alarms, all appliances and A/C units, etc. were electric . . . to include the carbon monoxide alarm.

That meant every time there was a power outage--which happened rather often due to an aged power grid on the base--the carbon monoxide alarm would beep, not to warn of poisoning, but to alert us to the fact that it had no power, and therefore would not be able to save us should carbon monoxide somehow manage to seep from you tell me where into the house. We once had a power outage lasting 9 hours due to a hurricane during which the spousal unit was temporarily assigned to a different time zone, so I ended up ripping that damned thing out of the wall.

I'd like to know what powered the "no power" beep. Anyone?
 

Comrade Whoopie

Comrades please, all these denunciations are confusing and risk bankrupting the commune to purchase enough ammo for the firing squad.

Here's a compromise. Colonel 7.62 will give every Party member a ride in his our boat when they're in town and each Party member who asks for a ride in the People's boat must bring a ration of potatoes, beets and vodka for our comrade Commodore Colonel.

Also, Party members are advised not to pee on the official gov. warning label when using the head. The Colonel will likewise refrain from funneling engine exhaust into the head while people are using it.

Now let us all cheer Colonel 7.62 for sharing his wretched excess with the People while cautioning him that the accumulation of wealth and status is counter-revolutionary.

An equitable solution Comrade Whoopie. I will remove the exhaust hose that connects the engine with the head at once.

Hmmm People's Commodore? That has a ring to it.
 

Comrade Colonel, This must be a very proud day for you. The wonderful Government cares enough about you to give you a decal for your Toilet. That decal could save your life and errrrrrrr others too.

VIVA LA Washington State!!!
People's Commodore, Nice ring...

Commissar Red Star CEO Hemlock Hospitality Inc.
Director of kicking doors at midnight
Keeper of the Sacred Plasma Cutter.
Herdsman of Rainbow Farting Unicorns
Defender of the Faith
 

Pinkie

I'd like to know what powered the "no power" beep. Anyone?
For it to know the power was off it had to have a power connection. To keep making noise it had to have a battery. For it to be there at all is, as you said, gobsmackingly stupid.

But then in Texas, if not the rest of the world, inside every men's restroom is a warning sign that alcohol use could be damaging to a fetus. I can't even make a Bruno joke about this.

A few years ago Culo de Pecos had a county attorney who is now a guest of the governor, from having stolen from several trust (escrow) accounts. And having left his wife and children for a puta who got him on crack. He ran through his (nice) parents' savings for fancy drug treatment for the Texas state treatment is not kind. We do not coddle people a lot in Texas. Don't rush--there's room for all.

He rented a house for a while and for months the smoke alarm's battery was low and it was beeping. They ignored it, walking under it, not bothering to replace a 9V battery.
 

Comrade Colonel 7.62,

I think you need a change™ in the text: to project people from themselves. That is how the government treats those who are not progs, who willingly beg for such treatment, so it ends up being the same.
 

Comrades, the Washington Department of Licensing is a truly prog agency, in that they have their collective heads up their collective arses. One person there told me I did not have to display the sticker, and the other assures me that I do. So I requested a written explanation of the whole mess, especially as state law was written to take place after January 1, 2007 and apply to boats sold in this state.

This will be glorious, simply glorious. I have never played with a state agency before.




Idiots. Brain dead, drooling morons. The useful idiot in their director's office is the one who won't give me a straight answer, and then when pressed falls back on the easiest answer, which is "yes you have to display this sticker where people will be exposed to carbon monoxide gas." Well, unless a person wants to lean right over the outboard engine at the stern of my boat and deliberatly inhale the exhaust fumes, that is the only way a person will get exposed.
 

What a good place to put it comrade. Everyone who uses the bathroom will see it. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to use your toilet as a matter of fact, and it's coming out fast and hard, so it will be a bit.
 

There is toilet paper in the head, which will be charged to your collective account. Unless you of course brought your own.
 

Here at the Rancho I do not furnish toilet paper. Our Many Titted Empress' ass is so big that she can't reach around, and all the others wipe like Arabs, with their left hands.
 

A People's Boat(TM)! After the impaling and whipping with Monica's Blue Dress can I have a ride on the People's Boat tooo...



I promise not to use the Colonel's treasury notes as toilet paper. I just don't understand why the Colonel insists on sunbathing in the nude out on the deck like that??? Very progressive, yet very baffling.
 

The Colonel wants that all-over red glow, you know, red from the bone out.

By the way, if you do enough Jiffi-Lobo, you will become a Red Diaper baby.
 

Here Colonel, if the Olympia Collective is anything like where I live, these signs should help you direct The People(TM) (and errr their pets) there:



And for those touchy feely types...




This one should go on your toilet as well...



And this one can go on the steps of The Peoples Boat(TM)...




And for the Peoples Office Door that gave you the sticker for your toilet...


 

Colonel 7.62

There is toilet paper in the head, which will be charged to your collective account. Unless you of course brought your own.
Sh**, oh well. The government can pay for it.
 

Commissar_Elliott

Sh**, oh well. The government can pay for it.

Comrade Elliott,

You must be a CPA! As in, "must become!"

On an unrelated note, I see many comrades struggling with the {prog on} and {prog off} tags. I think it would be wonderfully progressive to make available for rationing a USB device by which one claps their hands to trigger this tag. Not only would it help comrades develop rhythm and hand-eye coordination, it could be built at government expense by union labor to ensure high standards and good-paying jobs. And there's already a great jingle that can be made public domain or a national need:

"Prog on! {clap, clap} Prog off! {clap, clap} Prog on, prog off: The Progger!"
 

Colonel 7.62

Comrades, the Washington Department of Licensing is a truly prog agency, in that they have their collective heads up their collective arses. One person there told me I did not have to display the sticker, and the other assures me that I do. So I requested a written explanation of the whole mess, especially as state law was written to take place after January 1, 2007 and apply to boats sold in this state.

This will be glorious, simply glorious. I have never played with a state agency before.




Idiots. Brain dead, drooling morons. The useful idiot in their director's office is the one who won't give me a straight answer, and then when pressed falls back on the easiest answer, which is "yes you have to display this sticker where people will be exposed to carbon monoxide gas." Well, unless a person wants to lean right over the outboard engine at the stern of my boat and deliberatly inhale the exhaust fumes, that is the only way a person will get exposed.

7.62,

It is not just the Benevolent Order of the State Department of Licensing that is clueless, err, has diverging opinions. I had a similar situation with the State Parks Department. I had to resort to get my lib-prog state rep involved. It was just before the election, err, coronation. She cut through the red tape like a hot knife (warmed by Queen Christine's motherly bosom) through organic butter.

is

If the face is any indication, her bosom must look like this:


 

She looks like Agnes Moorhead (Endora) when she was young. Or something from The Dark Crystal.
 

Theocritus, game set match:


 

Or

 

But Endora was nicer and had more personality.

Hey, wait a second - that's Queen Christine - the woman that stole the election in my State. Thank goodness she stole the election in 2004 otherwise we'd have that ugly little man Dino Rossi messing up our economy here in Washington. How can anything work without government money? In the red is in the bed, of political contributors that is. And that's good for everyone.
 

But Endora's magic is not nearly as powerful as Prog Magicking. She could wrinkle her nose and go back in time, or snap up anything. Or do anything. But Prog Magicking just wishes away all laws without actually having any magic, which is pretty incredible when you think about it.
 

I'm with Margret on the character and personality, and I don't say this only because Bewitched is still aired here.

But Prog Magick is truly amazing. Why, look at how it turned that dead old paper Constitution into an anthropomorphized "living breathing document" that means whatever one wants it to mean, now! And when do we want it? Now!

Prog Resurrection, comrades, is giving me, well, a rhyme.
 

I see your point, Tovarich: that tingling around the femoral artery which means that you get to get the boot in over some tired old paper document that no one, no one who's important that is, really cares about. Taking property for the public good when the public good is a shopping center! Bingo!

Using interstate commerce to regulate how many sheets of toilet paper that you use to wipe your ass? Bingo!

Ah. The constitution. I'm having it printed on rolls of loo paper, for all balls-deep progs to have, and love, and use.
 

I must denounce Pieck for his horrible images and request that People's Prosecutor Pinkie add them to the many thought crimes he is charged with.

Ok, just curious, just how many comrades are here in Washington? I've seen mention of several now. If we are all in the greater Puget Sound region, we could conceivably have a communal get together somewhere.
 

Me. I'm in Washington. Born on Capital Hill. Long time ago, though, '56. Mother grew up in the CD and dad on Queen Anne. Pacific Northwest through and through. Though most of my adult life I spent living and working out of Hawaii, Singapore, Japan, Spain, San Diego, Charleston, St. Thomas, and every other place the Navy and the DoD sent me. So, though I'm a native here, I sort of don't feel like it anymore.
 

Heheh I've lived in the CD and Capital Hill, not always a happy thing either. First shortly after I moved into a cheap apartment in the CD, on the edge of the international district, I heard gunfire across the street. All I had was a .22 rifle and I told my roommate if anything came through the window I was returning fire.... Ahhh such a happy neighborhood.
 

Mom grew up in the CD on E Spruce Street, just to the east of 23rd - a little north of the old Carnegie library on 23rd and Yesler. She loved it, but it was different back in the '30's and '40s. Seattle was a small place back then. But we, my brothers and sisters and I, didn't grow up in Seattle - we grew up in Bellevue in Lake Hills; dad was an electrical engineer with Boeing and Lake Hills was the Boeing bedroom community back then. Great place to grow up.
 

I'm from the 'Couve in Clark Oblast. 4th largest city and perhaps the highest unemployment rate in the State 14.x%! Progism works! Luckily, there is Cesar Chavez City (formerly Portland, OR) across the river with unemployment only in the upper 12% and a sanctimonious mayor.

I'm not a native PNW'er (sigh), but a German import. My mother-in-law was born in Vancouver, my wife in Portland. Does that count?

7.62. You cannot fault the photographer for the looks of his/her subject matter. Furthermore, bu State Law we are all required to post Her Highness' picture in ALL rooms of the house, no expections! However, Dino Rossi, even though a kapitalist pig, would have been easier to look at. I had the pleasure of meeting him down here. Good man.

AAAGGGHHHH! I am GUILTY! Thoughtcriminal! Is there a self-flagellation edition of the shovel??? Where is the nearest Jiffy-Lobo?!?!
 

Pieck, a slight regression is permitted from time to time. Just remember that your soul belongs to the party. And your head to Pinkie. And of course Jiffi-Lobo.
 

Margaret

Me. I'm in Washington.

Many years ago when I was still a cynical, arrogant, prog--sorry, but I repeat myself--I went to DC to interview for a job in a Gulf country, at their embassy. They flew me in and back from flyover and none of the women were wearing burkhas, headscarves, nothing.

I spent the night after the interview then did a bit of wandering to see the White House and then it was to the airport. Roughly 1/3 of the people I met were Ethiopians; men friendly, women not, food good and cheap but it's al variants on the same theme.

My summation of the trip was I "could feel the corruption." Case in point: Chicago's el and DC's clean new rail system few people seemed to be using.

I'd love to go back, however. There was a lot I didn't see!
 

Genosse Pieck

I'm from the 'Couve in Clark Oblast. 4th largest city and perhaps the highest unemployment rate in the State 14.x%! Progism works! Luckily, there is Cesar Chavez City (formerly Portland, OR) across the river with unemployment only in the upper 12% and a sanctimonious mayor.

Sehr geehrter Herr Komrad Pieck,

Cesar Chavez City? Müssen wir Proggen nicht Pilgerfahrt danach machen?

In probably cruddy German, "Cesar Chavez City? Mustn't we progs make pilgrimages there?"

{prog off}
It is with great amusement that, in this case, I acknowledge the linguistic charms of German in turning a political pilgrimage into a "Fahrt" of sorts. So fitting.
{prog on}
 

prog off...

Oh yes, the manyfold fahrts in German are legion. Abfahrt, Ausfahrt, Einfahrt, Hinfahrt, Rueckfahrt, Zufahrt, Wegfahrt, the list is endless.

prog on...

While Cesar Chavez City may be quite enlightened, I was told by another prog that an even bigger shrine to progism exists in Rio Linda, PRoCA.
 

Yes, it must be very enlightened to be the butt of the jokes of that odious Limbaugh man.

All progism is relative of course--here in Texas the most progoriffic city is the People's Republic of Austin, which is infested inhabited mostly by students and government, both of which spread enlightenment and courage as to what can be if we all just hold our mouths right and yell a lot.
 

Colonel 7.62

Leninka

Colonel 7.62,

I DENOUNCE you for denouncing Comrade Whoopie, that is, unless you give us a ride on your boat.

Blackmail. Most progressive. I approve. You still can't have a ride on my boat though. After all, you denounced me, which makes you suspect, which in turn means I will have to send a Revolutionary Observation and Gay Bath House Squad to monitor you.

Pardon my tardiness in responding to this, Colonel 7.62. I was kept by a show trial. Is that all I get? Well, then, I DENOUNCE you again, for not sending a proper PSYOP unit of virile, manly soldiers to monitor my every move.
 

Leninka

Colonel 7.62

Leninka

Colonel 7.62,

I DENOUNCE you for denouncing Comrade Whoopie, that is, unless you give us a ride on your boat.

Blackmail. Most progressive. I approve. You still can't have a ride on my boat though. After all, you denounced me, which makes you suspect, which in turn means I will have to send a Revolutionary Observation and Gay Bath House Squad to monitor you.

Pardon my tardiness in responding to this, Colonel 7.62. I was kept by a show trial. Is that all I get? Well, then, I DENOUNCE you again, for not sending a proper PSYOP unit of virile, manly soldiers to monitor my every move.

Comradka Leninka,

I'm sorry to disappoint you, but Puget Sound does not have virile, manly soldiers...


 

Comrade_Tovarich

Commissar_Elliott

Sh**, oh well. The government can pay for it.

Comrade Elliott,

You must be a CPA! As in, "must become!"
Noted. I'll look into it.
 

Leninka, the manly, virile soldiers are turned off by your beard. It is not long enough.
 

Let me give a professional opinion. The length of the beard is not important. Does not the One have a beard, although He does not let it grow? How I long to stroke his manly chin and feel the stubble...

Wait. I've done this. And he's done us.
 

Colonel 7.62

Leninka, the manly, virile soldiers are turned off by your beard. It is not long enough.

I suppose that includes you, Colonel 7.62? Well, then, how is it that I received this in the mail!! HE didn't care about my beard!!


 

Leninka, my heart, and my libido belong to The Revolution. I don't have time for a woman's beard. If I need a woman, I follow after the noble Che and just screw around, making no commitments, and leaving all manner of children scattered about. If you wish to throw yourself at me for a moment or two between signing death warrants without trials, or arranging the invasion of a capitalist city, then you may do so. But don't expect much except a cigarette and blindfold after the fact.
 

And you have said nothing, nothing about my hair!!
 

Your hair, dear Leninka, is lovely. I'm wondering though--since the beard, is there chest hair too?

I'm just saying...
 

It looks like Leninka took the lesson of Humbert Humbert and shaves the chest hair.
 

Or, and I'm trying to figure this one out, a landman who was a pro football player, who comes to check records wearing shorts and flip flops and today came in with shaved legs. Not a competitive bodybuilder. This. Does. Not. Compute.
 

Okay, everybody, here is a little secret. I have no hair. Why? Because I am a lollipop!


From Archie McPhee'sOnline store.
 

Oh! of course.

Here's a good one:



from Archie McPhee's Online Store, too.

The blurb: "Commie Mints
Revolutionize your breath just like Lenin and the Bolsheviks revolutionized Mother Russia! Each 2-1/4" round tin contains one hundred mints."

I wonder what those things make your breath smell like?
 

Oh, and one more thing,

Colonel 7.62,

I promise you. I will look exactly like Elizabeth Taylor to those manly PSYOP soldiers when they drink this:


 

Margaret

Oh! of course.

Here's a good one:

from Archie McPhee's Online Store, too.

The blurb: "Commie Mints
Revolutionize your breath just like Lenin and the Bolsheviks revolutionized Mother Russia! Each 2-1/4" round tin contains one hundred mints."

I wonder what those things make your breath smell like?

Comrade Margaret,

Maybe they taste like pickled beets with a dash of horseradish, but I know there are others who can come up with a better description than that.

{off}
I liked the Etch a Sketch, too. They need to make room for one more face, if you know who I mean.