Sister Massively Opiated, as Commissarka of Housekeeping, help me!

You may recall some months ago when you were attending a, er, reception, yes, that's it, for Our Many Titted Empress here at Rancho de Rio Grande. This was when our MTE was the only person not to know that the Chosen One would be the next president and she had her bloody little mind on it.

You recall when, when things were settling down to passing-out time, the doorbell rang and the door was darkened and Katie Couric came in. Remember how she came in and beamed, taking the best chair, most of the food, and all of the air in the room and the party just went to nothing? She'd had practice from CBS, you know.

Finally, after she'd crossed her Steinway legs for the fifth time, steepled her fingers for the eighth, sniffed for the tenth, and given us a view of her jaw that simply broke me, I cut off her head. Remember that?

I put it then on a brass charger that I had and it's been there since that time. No one has noticed at CBS of course. Or in the world at large.

Now for my problem which you as Commissarka of housekeeping can answer and you alone.

The flies simply will not quit eating the turds in the Calvin and Hobbes' sand box. Katie Couric's head is <i>exactly</i> the same as it was the minute I cut it off. I know that Katie is a trusted party member, and so I do not want to diss her.

My question: how do I get flies to quit eating cat shit and start eating Katie Couric's head?

lol!!! put the cat shit in her mouth...they'll reproduce...maggots will thrive!

Pravda, you raise an interesting point. How could flies tell the difference between cat shit and what normally comes out of the mouth of any of our comrades in the MSM? The answer--they can't. So that means that the news rooms have to be rooms so clean that you could make ICs in them.

Lest flies swarm around the mouths of Couric, Olbermann, Matthews, and the odd question-dodging totalitarian hitman like Ellis Hennican.

::OFFICIAL INTERCOMMISSARIATE DIRECTIVE::

FROM: SISTER MASSIVELY OPIATED: KOMMISSAR OF HOUSEKEEPING, DISAPPEARANCES, COMPOSTING, DISSECTION, AND LIMO SERVICE

TO: THEOCRITUS: DIRECTOR OF UNANIMOUS CARING, COMPASSION, BACKSTABBING, AND IMPALING FOR THE COMMON GOOD™ (FORMERLY CONSPICUOUS CARING &TC. &TC.)

COMRADE DIRECTOR THEOCRITUS:

I REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT DOYEN COURIC'S NOGGIN HAS BEEN SUFFUSED WITH AN IMPREGNABLE INSECTICIDE. I HAVE FOUND IN MY WORK AS THE OFFICIAL PARTY NECROPROXY PRESERVATIONIST THAT THIS IS THE CASE WITH ALL JOURNALISTS, AS THEIR WORK AS SHITHEADS LEADS TO THE COMMON PROBLEM OF FLIES, AND IN ORDER TO AVOID THE OBVIOUS RISK OF FLIES, MAGGOTS, DUNG BEETLES AND OTHERS OF THE SPECIES COLEOPTERA, NOT TOO MENTION BEING THROWN TO THE DOGS, AS SOON AS AN INDIVIDUAL GRADUATES FROM A JOURNALISM PROGRAMME, THIS TREATMENT IS AUTOMATICALLY UNDERTAKEN. THE ONLY WAY TO DESTROY A JOURNO'S DOME IS TO BURN IT, PREFERABLY WITH GARLIC STUFFED IN ITS MOUTH.

HOWEVER, I WAS NOT AWARE THAT YOU WERE IN POSSESSION OF MS. COURIC'S NOODLE, AND AS SUCH, I BEG YOUR INDULGENCE - A COURTESY BETWEEN PROFESSIONALS, AS IT WERE - TO TAKE THE PUNDIT'S BRAIN COMPARTMENT OFF YOUR HANDS. IT PRESENTS A RARE OPPORTUNITY TO STUDY THE WORKINGS OF THE MIND OF THE MEDIA AND TO, PERHAPS, FIND A WAY IN WHICH WE MAY MAKE USE OF IT FOR THE GOOD OF THE PARTY™. ALSO, IT WOULD MAKE AN EXCELLENT ADDITION TO MY COLLECTION OF HEADS, WHICH I PRIZE AS MUCH AS CHAIRMAN MEOWSEVITCH S. PUNCHENKO PRIZES HIS HUMMEL COLLECTION.

IF IT AMENABLE TO YOU, I WILL SEND A LIMO FOR THE HEAD, POSTHASTE.

YOURS COLLECTIVELY IN THE CUBE™
SISTER MASSIVELY OPIATED.

:: END TRANSMISSION::

PS. Theo... sorry for the delay. Was slightly more massively opiated last night than usual... re: The Couric's head... How could you have kept such a prize from me!... I'm a deeply, deeply hurt, and am rethinking sending you the size 18 custom Manolo Blahnik Stilettos for Bruno... Although they are more than huge for his dainty feet, I'm sure the Chairman would be more than pleased to have them. I am hurt... truly hurt, that you did not contact me earlier, particularly as vivisection is my job... Lootzy, you got some s'plaining to do.

PPS. Theo... I'm sorry... on further consideration, I do understand that there was immediate need to handle the situation as quickly as possible, given her MTE's presence. Forgive my hasty anger. I have a raging hango... melon-ache today and no amount of morphine seems to be controlling it. And as you know, my nail gun is still missing. Sis...

Sister, I do beg your pardon for not revealing my possession of the head of La Couric. It's like Poe's black cat, you know--always there, what to do with it. I threw it in the trash and it always found its way out and I have no idea why and plopped itself back on that brass charger no matter what I did.

I'd enter the room and it would follow me with its eyes--"Theocritus. Does character matter?" and its lips would move but having no lungs it could make no sound. But still it wouldn't die, or go away. I did try stuffing its mouth with garlic but that didn't work; I think that this must be a post-Legosi journo.

I even put it on one of my tallest and best stakes along the Rio Grande but that kept <i>all</i> the wetbacks out and therefore was destroying the economy of Mexico. And with the Goracle already starving them by turning their corn into biodiesel, I didn't have the heart to hurt the poor Mexicans further.

And my last hope was that the flies would eat it instead of the shit of Calvin and Hobbes.

Do you think that Pinkie, with the aid of Red Star, could dig a ditch big enough and deep enough to bury the Couric Head?

NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!

Do NO bury the head.... It will only multiply!

If you will not give me the head, you MUST burn it... I am sorry... it is the only way... and bleach the charger...

My god, Sister, you're right. If I bury the head it will foul the entire field and an entire nation of Catos could not be enough to sterilize the field once it had started growing Couric heads.

Kudzu would be nothing to this. Eversee <i>Day of the Triffids</i>? I see armies of triffids with Katie Couric's heads, all with poison-bearing pseudopods on the top, flinging poison, smarm, and more poison.

Sister, I would gladly give you the Couric head, but would need assurance that you have a good means of dealing with it. After all, if worms prefer to eat cat shit to the Couric head, and we cannot bury it, and I'm not sure that it could be consumed by fire, is there anything left but to shoot it into the sun?

For Obama's Sake Theo,

I've eradicated entire nests of Kulak monsters... and I've got a brand spanking new .50 Desert Eagle that J gave me as a love token, and I'm dying to find a good target to practice on...

Just gimme the goddam head already!

The Dolphin

Sister, your experience with Kulak monsters is very convincing, but do NOT try bullets. My S&W 1006 is entirely ineffective against the Couric head. You shoot and plop! There's a blood hole. And a huge screaming sound and the hole fills in and the head swivels and stares at you and starts out with this sneering shit.

Oh, Sister, it's awful. Just awful. Those eyes, open in fake innocence, or squinted up in attack-chihuahua pose.

The head is evil, Sister, evil. I think I'm going to order four entire trucks of concrete. Pour one truck in a 10' hole. Let dry. Put a 55-gallon oil drum on it. Put head in drum. Fill drum with cement. Let that dry. If there are no cracks or if the thrumming from the drum is not too bad, pour on the other two mixer loads of concrete.

I'm not taking about a simple mixer; I'm talking about one of those big things on wheels that drives down the road.

Nooooooooo!

Give me the head now!... I must have that head!...

Do not think of the eyes... It is a dead thing... yes... an evil thing, but so is Meow, and we don't bury him in cement!... We use him for target practice and then blame Bruno... so..

GIVE ME ITS HEAD... NOW! And get ahold of yourself (no Meow... you don't need to get ahold of yourself... just leave it alone or you'll knock the scab off again)...

Come now Theo... you know it is the only way....

Okay, sister, I'll let you have the Katie Couric head. But how to get it to you? I don't think that Brinks is the answer. I live about 80 miles south of the low-level nuclear-waste disposal plant in Carlsbad, NM, which keeps things forever in hollowed-out salt, but I'm not sure that even salt domes could hold the head.

Bear in mind that the Couric head is so vile that even the worms will not touch it. It will outlast the Great Pyramid a Giza. When the sun turns into a red giant and fries all the planets up to Mars, the head will live, its dreadful eyes balefully staring, incorruptible by the purulence of the world, as the Couric head sneers and sneers and sneers...

Oh god. This is worse than Meow the time that he put formaldehyde into Bruno's Shirley Temple, threw Bruno into my bedroom and nailed the door shut. I was in a room with a screaming, hallucinating queen built like a Dallas Cowboys lineman, bouncing off the walls, scattering plastic fruit all over the place while Meow alternated between maniacal laughing and coughing when he huffed the airplane glue too much.

By the way, Sister, when Meow next visits you. I'll send you some drawers labeled Calvin Klein but made of Kevlar. When he was here he <i>did</i> knock the scab off and what fell out made a bee-line for the Couric head, which sent what fell off, the Couric head, and all sane people, plus the roaches, screaming into the dark of the night.

Limo on the way, my dear... it is, after all, my job to make things disappear... no?

ps... check your mail

Commissar Theocritus wrote:By the way, Sister, when Meow next visits you. I'll send you some drawers labeled Calvin Klein but made of Kevlar. When he was here he <i>did</i> knock the scab off and what fell out made a bee-line for the Couric head, which sent what fell off, the Couric head, and all sane people, plus the roaches, screaming into the dark of the night.

I'll send Aki along with the Limo for the head... he and The Rat-Thing have become quite skilled at rooting out the nests of Kulak monsters that appear this time of year as small beasties and pests come indoors to escape the frigid Kanadistanjian winter... they will find the scab and kill it, I promise, dear one...

Commissar Theocritus wrote:Sister Massively Opiated, as Commissarka of Housekeeping, help me!

You may recall some months ago when you were attending a, er, reception, yes, that's it, for Our Many Titted Empress here at Rancho de Rio Grande. This was when our MTE was the only person not to know that the Chosen One would be the next president and she had her bloody little mind on it.

You recall when, when things were settling down to passing-out time, the doorbell rang and the door was darkened and Katie Couric came in. Remember how she came in and beamed, taking the best chair, most of the food, and all of the air in the room and the party just went to nothing? She'd had practice from CBS, you know.

Finally, after she'd crossed her Steinway legs for the fifth time, steepled her fingers for the eighth, sniffed for the tenth, and given us a view of her jaw that simply broke me, I cut off her head. Remember that?

I put it then on a brass charger that I had and it's been there since that time. No one has noticed at CBS of course. Or in the world at large.

Now for my problem which you as Commissarka of housekeeping can answer and you alone.

The flies simply will not quit eating the turds in the Calvin and Hobbes' sand box. Katie Couric's head is <i>exactly</i> the same as it was the minute I cut it off. I know that Katie is a trusted party member, and so I do not want to diss her.

My question: how do I get flies to quit eating cat shit and start eating Katie Couric's head?

My Dear Commissar Theocritis

While I found your ditty with SMO(how you feeling Sister?) most entertaining, may I ask what you did with the rest of the stupid Kulak, Couric's body? There is a most interesting recipe that I have been wanting to try and it involves sweet flesh of Kulak. As you know, Couric is was considered to be the sweet darling of the MSM. If you haven't disposed of her body, already, have Bruno or whomever, send it down to me at the P'HK and I will turn it into a wonderful dish (similar to sweetbreads). Gracias, Sir, in advance. Oh, yes, have your staff wait until I get rid of speak with the Health Inspector, first. I'll call you when the coast is clear, si?

,
too many rules and regulations for my taste!
Che' Gourmet
PS - Permission to take care of the Inspector, Sir. (we don't use bribes, is that correct?) If not, I know what to do.

Ché, had I been thinking I'd have saved the body for you. But I dumped it into the Rio Grande, where it blocked the river and caused <a href="https://www.mysanantonio.com/news/Presi ... l">immense flooding</a>. In fact it was so bad that the Tex DOT electronic sign actually warned of the floods, instead of blinking threats and menaces as it normally does. I love TexDot--they think that water runs uphill and put in signs to threaten you. So progressive. But I'm digressive.

But Sister, call back the limo. I called Meow, who came and I gave him a big handful of hydrocodone and told him that Charlemagne's scepter was in the rails of the German Mag-Lev train. So he got me some of the linear motors.

I have made a Mag-Lev bottle for the Couric Head, where it is safe, and more important, we are safe. I intend to mount it on an ICBM and use it to nuke the next RepuliKKKan convention.

Imagine this: all those wealthy plutocrats yammering on about things like property rights and individual rights and, god forfend, constitutional law (I'm getting really sick right here, and his O'ness will save me, PBUH), and with the screaming sneer in comes the Couric Head on an Atlas missile to wipe them out.

Comrade,

If you are still wanting to be rid of the head, consider putting it in a crab trap. I hear they eat everything.

If nothing else you could keep it underwater , perhaps it will confuse the Imperialist US Navy SOSUS net.

Dr. Nyet I shall file your suggestion for future reference, once the Couric Head has been deployed past its usefulness. But I expect that it will be a reusable weapon of mass Republican destruction. After all, if the flies prefer to eat cat shit to eating the Couric head, we may consider it nearly indestructible.

It is safe now in the Mag-Lev bottle, and the world is safe. But I am currently threatening negotiation with Caterpillar for some auxiliary diesel generators, for if the power to Rancho de Rio Grando goes off and the Couric Head gets loose, it could cause a black hole of reason, taste, and modesty, which would instantly suck up every mathematics book and da Vinci and Michelangelo and Rembrandt in the world, <i>including the ones in my collection</i>.

Oh, Bugger! I'll never get ahead....

Sister, what about Matt Lauer's head? He is equal in sneering power, and is of negligible brain power. In fact I am quite convinced that was chosen (1) because he has teeth like Humphey Bogart and (2) a rather good ass.

Ché could make French garlic sausage out of his puga pyga and you, dear Sister, can now get ahead.

I would recommend using the Lauer head as a bottle opener.

Fools!... you still do not see the danger and clearly I cannot force you to apprehend reason... Think on it Theo... you had the head for a year... a year... and it did not change!... Pah! You are all simpletons who would invite snakes into your bed (calm down Meow... it's not a good thing!)... Do not claim I did not warn you, when all is dust and ashes...

And yes... I'll have Lauer's head... which part to you think would be most tender... besides his ego?

The brain, cooked up, would be no more than an amuse bouche, and a small one at that. But I do not know if it could be soaked in enough milk to remove the bitterness.

Frankly I would recommend not eating it. There is so little inside his brachycephalic head that penetrating its vacuum would instantly cause the Rat Thing and the AirBook to go flying toward it, and you have tender feelings for both.

Now the tongue--that would be toxic, having licked the backsides of so many totalitarians. I still think the best thing is to use the teeth for a bottle opener.

Of cheap domestic non-alcoholic beer.

Theo,

Isn't it sweetbreads that you soak in milk, overnight, to make them more tender... that and removing the membranes? I do not think it wise to partake of the brain. Who knows what prions might be lurking in some journo's noggin?... Journaline Spongiform Encephalitis is not a pleasant way to go. Neither would I dare attempt to penetrate the vacuity, regardless of my love for The Rat-Thing or my lovely light laptop computer (odd... my cat weighs five times more than my computer does)

I am also not a fan of tongue. Wait... that came out wrong. I am not a fan of tongue as a foodstuff... my cultural heritage exposed me to others who ate pickled tongue and other such 'delicacies' but they are up there with organ meat (shut up Meow... you know what I mean), and I only even eat liver because of the extreme anemia I am prone to...

So all in all, I cannot imagine the head in terms of any type of food source, though the use of the jawbone of the ass, and it's teeth, will certainly make a wonderful bottle opener. It certainly beats opening them with my own teeth, though I am still capable of that particular high school skill... I don't, however, suggest that others try it. My friend Miles once drunkenly bit off the end of a beer bottle and slashed open his cheek, necessitating his having to redo all his cheek piercings after it had healed... it was not pretty, but then, neither was Miles to begin with...

ahh... enough reminiscing... despite the topic, I've actually got an appetite for the first time in a few days and I think I'll take advantage of it while it's still with me, so that I can take my meds and not worry about them burning a hole in my stomach... I am going to have spaghetti!, as we've been discussing noodles so much and now I can't stop thinking about them.

Isn't Katie married?
If so, there can be no head.

Matt Lauer? Depends on how many angels can dance on top.

Laika, Katie might be married but always first and last to her image of herself in the mirror. And why would you even consider that? She defines prognathous.

Lauer does have a tiny little head which makes a huge amount of sneering noise. He's such a nasty bit of work that I nominate him for our second Weapon of Mass Sneering.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:Sister, what about Matt Lauer's head? He is equal in sneering power, and is of negligible brain power. In fact I am quite convinced that was chosen (1) because he has teeth like Humphey Bogart and (2) a rather good ass.

[HIGHLIGHT=#92d050]Ché could make French garlic sausage out of his puga pyga[/HIGHLIGHT] and you, dear Sister, can now get ahead.

[HIGHLIGHT=#ffff00]I would recommend using the Lauer head as a bottle opener[/HIGHLIGHT].

Esteemed Commissar Theocritis,

Is the garlic sausage (made from Lauer's puga pyga) for your personal pantry? Then I will have to freeze his ass for now. I am much to busy to be making sausage until after the Purges Inaugural Party is over. Although, you should come down to the PHK and I'll teach you to make it yourself, my little foodie buddy. Such culinary skills are always of infinite use.
As for Lauer's brain, I agree.....throw it out. It's useless. Wolfgang, I said braise, not bruise, you idiot....gotta go...Rrrrrr...

your sullen Chef,

Che' Gourmet

I must voice concern for all of this contemplated brain eating. Meseems to recall in vile capitalist science class in high school learning that if one taught a flatworm how to navigate a maze (clearly capitalist scientists had too much free time not given to the glories of the Collective) and then chopped it up and fed its brains to other flatworms, those flatworms would automatically be able to do the maze.

Would, then, consuming the brains of the Couric kulak and the Lauer have similar effects? Should we not, then, preserve their powerfully trained brains (for worshipping The One) to feed to our most hardened thoughtcriminals?

KR

KittyRed wrote:I must voice concern for all of this contemplated brain eating. Meseems to recall in vile capitalist science class in high school learning that if one taught a flatworm how to navigate a maze (clearly capitalist scientists had too much free time not given to the glories of the Collective) and then chopped it up and fed its brains to other flatworms, those flatworms would automatically be able to do the maze.

Would, then, consuming the brains of the Couric kulak and the Lauer have similar effects? [HIGHLIGHT=#ffff00]Should we not, then, preserve their powerfully trained brains (for worshipping The One) to feed to our most hardened thoughtcriminals[/HIGHLIGHT]?

KR

Kitty Red,

Kudos to you furry fun female(?)Feline.(FFFF) A most excellent use of these Kulak brains. I shall make a filling and nutritious Monkey Kulak soup I learned in Indonesia from my foodie friend, Tony Bourdain (that man will eat anything) No, Wolfgang, don't throw those brains out with the garbage! One of our smart comrades has found a use for them. Praise be to the wonderous Obamessiah! Nothing should go to waste! Marley, get away from that wine!! It's for cooking, Man!

visions of happy proles eating soup in the Winter,

Che' Gourmet

Kitty Red wrote:I must voice concern for all of this contemplated brain eating. Meseems to recall in vile capitalist science class in high school learning that if one taught a flatworm how to navigate a maze (clearly capitalist scientists had too much free time not given to the glories of the Collective) and then chopped it up and fed its brains to other flatworms, those flatworms would automatically be able to do the maze.

Kitty, I bow to your good sense and your science is impeccable. But I do wonder just one thing. The flatworm could run a maze, just one skill. The Couric Head and the Lauer Head also have just one skill--sneering.

Now I'm all for an arsenal of Weapons of Mass Sneering, but don't we already have that in the MSM? I mean, what's an evening without the sneering of Brokaw, Blitzer, Matthews and of course Olbermann. I think that he's sneering. And by the way, did you see that killer tin-foil hat made to look like glasses? Where does he get that? Tin Foil Hat Masters?

Ché, by all means freeze Lauer's ass. Would it hold its texture better for garlic sausage frozen whole or ground up? Whole, I'm thinking, unless you plan to flash freeze it, when ground would give more surface area. But I bow to you in this. Until I get my full-body suit of Kevlar.

Hmmm, now perhaps you will wish to check with either Che Gourmet, Dr. Amin, or even the Chairman first, but have you considered how Couric's head would add to the flavor and presentation of the Chairman's tasty Fried Rat on a Stick?

Other than that, I can only suggest you follow SMO's advice to the letter or perhaps Comrade Brain in a Jar could give another suggestion from his unique perspective.

Marshall, I'm pondering your suggestion about the Couric Head. The problem is that it addles everything in its gaze. When I had it in the kitchen, for trimming off the sloppy bits, it addled my expensive vinegars--and they're sour already. Then it turned its gaze onto my Drain-O, and addled that.

Also, Marshall, I am going to have a Socialist meet-and-greet for people who are Socialist Curious. I do hope that you will attend and attend to the dispensation of Fried Rat on a Stick. For we do not want to be accused of false advertising.

Jeez. I'm laughing so hard I wet 'em. False advertising in Socialism? Only if you're a useful idiot.

Keith? Keith! Adjust your glasses. You aren't receiving the Current Truth from Laika!

No need to ponder about Couric's head comrades, I have taken care of this in a way I am sure will do me proud.

I have appropriated Couric's head to use as a combination wine chiller - centerpiece for tomorrows feast. I set it out to see how it worked and I must say, I am delighted with the effect it has highlighting the culinary indulgences I plan on tomorrow.

However, I had to order a SWAT team to take over security over this unique setting piece. Would you believe I caught that cheap SOB Chairman trying to slip in by disguising himself as a grocery delivery boy, but he gave himself away when he tried to sell my cook day old fried rat as fresh.

Marshall, I'll let you in on a secret. Meow has utterly no discrimination. None. He's as likely to steal cubic zirconium as the Koh-i-Noor diamond; he just can't tell. And why would you expect that he would have a palette? If it's someone else's food, it's good. That's all for Meow.

I'll tell you how easy it is to fool Meow. When he's over here, I get him drunk with beer, and cheap beer at that, and pour it down him until he's about to burst, needing to pee.

And then I show him a bankbook making it impossible to pee.

And here's the limit of his taste: he gets <i>really</i> excited over a bankbook without even looking on the inside. Now I ask you: is that a really good socialist? Rude and plenty, of course, but quality? Ah, Meow, so invaluable. And so predictable.

Marshal Pupovich wrote:Hmmm, now perhaps you will wish to check with either Che Gourmet, Dr. Amin, or even the Chairman first, but have you considered how Couric's head would add to the flavor and presentation of the Chairman's tasty Fried Rat on a Stick?

Other than that, I can only suggest you follow SMO's advice to the letter or perhaps Comrade Brain in a Jar could give another suggestion from his unique perspective.

Good Day to you Marshal Pupovitch,

What's all this about the Couric head, again?? I was informed that SMO had disposed of it in a volcano.....and why would you want to add flavor with it? Commissar Theocritis is happy now that SMO has promised the Olbermann head, but I dare say that it will be a repeat of the Couric head problem. To use the Couric head for a party decoration is not wise, Sir. Look at the way it made Commissar Theocritis go under its' spell. Please check with SMO before using it.
There may be some nasty residual effects. It probably tastes like sh*t, anyway. Just looking out for you, Sir.

puzzled by the fascination with the Couric Head,

Che' Gourmet

Che, I admit. I'm in a twelve-step program for the Couric Head. My Precioussss. I can give up the Couric Head but I must have the Olbermann Head. One Head to Rule them All...

How it tastes is immaterial. How it sneers is all important.

Think, Chef Che, think! With the Olberman head we wouldn't need any pectin or rennet at all! None! And flying over the countryside with the Olberman Head in a plane we could curdle the milk of the kulaks <i>inside the cows</i>.

Ah. The Olbermann Head. Come to me, my preciousssss....

Commissar Theocritus, you say it so well, the Chairman has no discrimination. I thought I had managed to protect my few assets the other day when I caught him trying to get the Couric head, that is until the next day just before my guests were to arrive, I discovered that all my guest soaps were missing! No doubt he will probably try and sell them off on People-Bay™.

The Couric head middle piece/wine chiller went over very nicely with my guests, though as you can imagine, it is really too small for adequate use as a wine cooler. What is really needed is one with more volume. I am thinking that perhaps Dr. Amin might be able to contribute to the cause in time for my Winter Solstice holiday meal.

Marshal, I do take your difficulty with the size of the Couric Head. But you want a really big vessel, why not try a Dr. Amin belly? That could easily chill an entire beer keg.

But there is something, I see, about having a <i>head</i>. For that I recommend John Kerry's head. You would think it's small and narrow just to look at it, but trust me--it is infinitely big and huge. And once all the air has been let out it will take very little cleaning.

Ah my dear Theocritus, if you desire the Olbermen head it shall be yours. However with the Olberman head comes great responsibility, of which I can think of no one who is more suited to the care of the Olberman head. This my glorious comrade will require an undertaking so dangerous that some may not return from this mission.

Comrade Commissar Theocritus, it shall be my honor to deliver to you the Olberman head that you so crave.

Gruppenfurer, by all means do not endanger yourself. You are too valuable to the collective to do so. Let other people endanger themselves. That's the ticket.

I'm thinking Meow here. If we could somehow think that there was something in it for him, Meow would do it. That bastard could lift a tattoo off your chest. And since the Olbermann head has never done anything but make lots of shrill noise, it ought to be easier to get than a tattoo, don't you think?

The only problem though is the timing. When the Olbermann head's eyes are beady, the head can be gotten. But on a rhythm which no one can decipher the beady eyes become wild swivel eyes, sometimes even protruding out on stalk. Have you see <i>Who Framed Roger Rabbit</i> when his eyes got out on stalks when he took a drink? Something like that, but worse.

Gruppenfurer, you have risen far and fast in the party but do not take it amiss when I tell you that <i>no one</i> is as sneaky, shallow, self-serving, greedy and unprincipled as the Chairman.

THe Chairman gives opportunism a bad name. That's why we love him so. When we can see his hands.

That bastard could lift a tattoo off your chest.

And chrome off a trailer hitch, but we're not talking about Monica or Meow, are we?We were talking about Couric's head.
Please, no Olbermann, especially after dinner.

Focus on the signal people.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:Gruppenfurer, you have risen far and fast in the party but do not take it amiss when I tell you that <i>no one</i> is as sneaky, shallow, self-serving, greedy and unprincipled as the Chairman.

Of course that is always been why I hitched my star to the Chairman, and it paid off handsomely. I can only hope to one day achieve his level of perfection, but you are right, the Chairman is the sort that would try and sell you used carrots if he could get away with it. But there is greatness in the Chairman. Note the way he never tries to defend himself from the things said about him, that is the mark of a true scoundrel, one that is comfortable in his own skin as they say, but even more comfortable in someone else's back pocket.

Ah yes, Pupovich, ah yes. And let me take this moment to say how much I admire your lickspittle attitude. It's not often that we see someone as groveling and subservient as you--with as many designs. Every bared fang sends a shiver down my spine.

Now I personally a have a lot of hope for the Gruppenfurer, as I have shown. There is something about his squinty-eyed demeanor, his Treacherous Toadeating, and just plain <i>shiftiness</i> that I think augurs well for him. You know, he might be as oily as Hamilton Jördan if he puts his mind to it, do you think? Now that's a high standard.

Ah, dear Guppenfurer. I can see him, sitting on a chair in the Rancho de Rio Grande, a chair lower than mine, of course, and looking at me with this doe-eyes, making the world think that he's a sincere admirer while I know that he'd go after the Olbermann head in a moment if we needed it. Because I can see a use for a weaponized Olbermann head. That could wipe out the entire staff of <i>National Review</i> just by a near miss. Nothing could withstand that insane screaming and sneering.

And, <i>entre nous</i>, I'm thinking of grooming Gruppenfurer to go up against Meow. That bastard.

Comrade Theocritus, my dearest comrad. I have conceived of a plan so vile that the olberman head can be ours, toot sweet. Oh and when I say "ours" clearly I mean "your's".

For you see comrade, I have a prole that has achieved entrance into the olberman head circle. I now know his schedule precisely, and there was revealed a weakness which I may exploit. It seems that the olberman head arises precisely at the crack of 1:00 pm and proceeds to his private bathroom to gaze upon himself and practice his sneer in the mirror. He has been known to stay in there for up to an hour.

When he has finished adoring himself, he retires again to his bed to rest in a post-coital glow if you will.

Now my dear Theocritus is when my plan becomes reality. I have prepared a cyrogenic chamber of liquid nitrogen, for I know of nothing else that can contain the olberman head.

Comrade, I will need the use of the couric head for a short time, you see while the olberman head is in attendance of his own adoration, I mean to place the couric head in the olberman head's bed. When the olberman head returns to his bed to bask in his afterglow, the couric head and the olberman head will obviously lock eyes. It is then that I shall seize the olberman and couric heads and vanquish them to the cryogenic chamber, whereupon I shall deliver both heads to you posthaste.

I only await your approval Comrade Commissar.

Radnoskovich!

Put Ted Williams in between the two. It will make nice bookends.

ALT + 0252

Dammit. Learn the code.
If you can't handle your umlauten, how could we let you handle Meow's Hummels....talk about precioussssss.....

Laika the Space Dog wrote:Radnoskovich!

Put Ted Williams in between the two. It will make nice bookends.

ALT + 0252

Dammit. Learn the code.
If you can't handle your umlauten, how could we let you handle Meow's Hummels....talk about precioussssss.....

Damn it Laika, I am through with your insolence. You shall cease and desist immediately. I am through with you. Do not tempt me further. Ted the Williams is of no concern to the inner circle. Now, here is a nice biscuit.

I am not interested in your damned code. If you persist, the olberman head shall pay you a special visit. You are but a nat on the ass.

I bid you good day.

You shall cease and desist immediately.

I knew I'd find you here Ratnosekotex. Your trail of slobbering slime is easy to track.
Theocritus, it is time to fetch Bruno and ignite The Hildo 12.1.08 limited edition and teach this petulant marmot the true meaning of the spirit of giving.
Ratnosekotex is the traitor who stole my ketamine, causing my demise.
Now he attacks Laika's character?
Claims he knows the "Inner Circle"?
Watch it buster or you'll cease to exist immediately

I denounce Groppenfutile Ratnosekotex!

Empress! I'm so delighted to see you again that I soiled my pants! Your worship! Your excellency!

...Bruno, put the plastic sheets on the guest bed...

Empress, do not be hard on Gruppenfurer. He is growing in the ways of the party. He is devious, Empress--behold his Olbedrmann and Couric Head plan. Now that's thinking. I think that we might have to suspect the liquid nitrogen in a magnetic bottle but that's the only addition that I can think of.

Remember when I was an up and coming young Commissar? No one thought that I would become as nasty and arrogant and stroppy and full of myself as I am, isn't that so? And now look at me: my chest has grown 6" just in contemplation of my own magnificence as I march down your path to the Progressive World of Next Tuesday.

For it's all for one and one for all--except for the fools.

I think that Gruppenfurer has potential. Remember that I elevated him to the Professoriate of Treacherous Toadeating. And that's no laughing matter.

So it is written, so he is denounced.
We have a motion on the floor for summary denouncement.
Is there a second?

Hillary wrote:

You shall cease and desist immediately.

I knew I'd find you here Ratnosekotex. Your trail of slobbering slime is easy to track.
Theocritus, it is time to fetch Bruno and ignite The Hildo 12.1.08 limited edition and teach this petulant marmot the true meaning of the spirit of giving.
Ratnosekotex is the traitor who stole my ketamine, causing my demise.
Now he attacks Laika's character?
Claims he knows the "Inner Circle"?
Watch it buster or you'll cease to exist immediately

I denounce Groppenfutile Ratnosekotex!

Hah, you are but a pimple on the ass of the Many Titted Empress, your threats do not concern me. Hah, look at me, I still exist.

Hey wait, I am still here, ha ha haha hahahahahhah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You shall soon meet the business end of the olberman head.

I shudder to think of a weaponized Olbermann head. Placed on the tip of an Atlas missile it could freeze cars on freeways with its sneer.

Gruppenfurer, do be careful with the Olbermann head. You recall during the Cold War it was said that the USSR and AmeriKKKa could destroy the world a thousand times over. So could the Olbermann head. All cows would turn to cheese, all sand would turn to rock, and even Meow's weeping sores would dry up.

Hillary wrote:

You shall cease and desist immediately.

I knew I'd find you here Ratnosekotex. Your trail of slobbering slime is easy to track.
Theocritus, it is time to fetch Bruno and ignite The Hildo 12.1.08 limited edition and teach this petulant marmot the true meaning of the spirit of giving.
Ratnosekotex is the traitor who stole my ketamine, causing my demise.
Now he attacks Laika's character?
Claims he knows the "Inner Circle"?
Watch it buster or you'll cease to exist immediately

I denounce Groppenfutile Ratnosekotex!

My empress, forgive me a moment of delusion. My reasoning was affected by the olberman head, it is more dangerous than we thought. I kneel at your poorly trimmed toes.

Sorry! sorry!... I got a bit busy there and have been vacillating between trying to get anything at all done and then trying to recover from doing anything at all... First, my friend Gary came by to load some programmes on my teeny weeny computer and change the strings on my guitar, only to discover that in the year it sat untouched while I was so sick, the neck has bowed... It is the curse of living in a building heated by radiators... much much too dry in the winter and then our humidity in the summer... I am hoping it is simply that the truss rod needs adjusting but it is not something I am willing to mess with myself, nor did Gary feel comfortable adjusting it in case it was something more... and if it is worse, then it may not be worth repairing given how cheap an instrument it is (though I hate to waste any instrument)... we shall see, but I'd hoped to be able to get back to learning as a way to strengthen my hands and keep them more flexible, rather than just being bored to death squeezing rubber therapy balls (calm down Meow... those aren't what you think they are, whatever it is that you do think they are)... so I have to make my way to our friend's guitar shop so that they can see if anything can be done... At least my piano isn't here - without playing it I'm sure the sound board would just die from the dryness... I brought my humidifier from the folks' but have yet to get around to setting it up... I'm sure it would help a bit... I'd hoped to go on Monday or Thursday right when they open, but wasn't feeling up to it, and it's too crazy on the weekend. So I'll try for this Monday... If it can't be fixed, I'll see if I can find something cheap on eBay or if the boys have something cheap sitting around that they'll lend me.

And then I went to chop someon... something into little teeny tiny pieces and to my horror, my favourite Santoku is as dull as ditchwater... or an Eric Rohmer film... or watching paint dry - though if I remember, in Night Moves, Gene Hackman compares watching an Eric Rohmer film to watching paint dry... I cannot argue... even his most erotic work is fixated on a teenaged girl's knee... In any case, I can only imagine that it was the work of young Fidel, the Kulak Monster, while I was away, and to make things worse, my sharpening steel has vanished... I'm sure it's disappeared into the little beast's nest... But my mood was not improved in the least, nothing being worse than a dull knife. I'm sure Che can commiserate.

And as weeks go, it was a bit of a struggle... Monday was lost to the weather, though I did make it to pain management class on Tuesday and felt like I'd had a shit-kicking by the time I got home, which makes sense since I've fractured yet another rib... Wednesday the home helper came and we managed to get some stuff done though I was shattered after only a couple hours so my cousin came and spent the night, rather than me dragging myself to my parents'... which meant that Thursday I had to go out for lunch with my evil grandmother, and Mom and cousin, and again, by the time I got home, I was so sore I could barely walk, and then Friday I made myself go and get my hair cut cause my last attempt was preempted by the last bout of pneumonia and we were supposed to go to an engagement party for J's cousin tonight and my hair was looking decidedly shaggy and faded... and I figured that the better I looked, the less they'd focus on how badly I was moving and the better the 'report' to J's Mom in Buenos Aires would be (everything gets amplified because she's so far away, and I hate it when she worries), and after I managed to do the whole Friday night dinner at my parents', cause with my personal Baba Yaga visiting, my aunt and cousins have come into town to see her, so again, by the time I got home last night, my knees were just not bending anymore and I ended up being up until 5:00 a.m...

It would have been a struggle to pull myself together for this party tonight, but I was actually looking forward to it cause it's my favourite of Javier's cousins and he's marrying a girl who isn't Jewish, which is a big deal because his sister is ultra-orthodox, which was also a big deal when she became more religious... the sad thing is, when she turned ortho, her little brother Dan was one of the few people who supported her decision, believing, like me, that if that's what worked for her, then she should do what worked for her, though none of her own cousins and aunts and uncles supported her and all were quite vocal in their opinions. But now that Dan is marrying someone who isn't Jewish, not only will she not go to the wedding but she won't have anything to do with him... and all the people who were scandalized by her decision to become 'frum' are now scandalized that her brother is marrying someone who isn't Jewish... it's like unless they're just middle of the road Jews, they can't please anyone, which is why I've just given up and gone Buddhist-Cetacean... anyway, I wanted to go because Dan and I have always been close and to support him, but now J's got the flu... really bad... he's so sick that he hasn't been out of bed all day except to get sick and he's freaked out I'll get sick because I've just gotten over the pneumonia and he thinks I'll catch it... so no party, which is both good and bad. More than anything, I have had to admit that I am just not going to have any stamina for a while, and plan so that if I do anything, I give myself at least a day to do nothing afterward... Which is profoundly frustrating. I was feeling so much better and finally managed to get home and now I have to just sit here and look at the things I need to get done. And frankly, I'm getting exceedingly sick and tired or being sick and tired, and on top of being frustrating, it's boring. I don't want to sound like I'm whining - I do know there are a lot of people who have it much worse than I do and I do know how lucky I am - particularly in my friends... were it not for my friends here, I would not have this wee computer that allows me to stay connected to my home away from home, and to bitch and complain... heheheh... But, it would be really nice to catch a break... maybe I phrased that wrong, since part of my problem is all the breaks I've caught... heheheh.. but it would be really nice to just not have to deal with any more 'excitement' for a while and just feel good, or at least well enough to do even normal things.

Okay... enough navel-lint... Where were we?... Ahh.. yes... an appropriate sobriquet for our newest Toad-eating Boot-licking Lackey Lickspittle over-reaching grasper (see: aspiring Party-member)... I think that perhaps it would be wise to discuss this among ourselves in a more private setting... Che's walk-in freezer, perhaps... or the wine cellar... or Bunker 5, where I store Meow's winch and some of my more troublesome projects that take a bit more effort to bring to fruition - no... too disturbing... if you don't mind sharing with Aki and the boys, the pool in Bunker #7... Aki can show you his new dorsal mounted laser smart-targeting gear... he's quite proud of it, and really wants to show it to Laika for some reason I haven't quite figured out. Maybe they are planning something to surprise me... a satellite integrated weapons platform maybe, or some new targeting protocol... I'll let them surprise me... it makes Aki happy... But I digress... we'll have to confer on the matter of a title and then put it to Red for his approval, or not...

We'll sort it out...

Ahhh... the local weather report has just clarified the cause of my skeleton's most recent coup d'etat... we are expecting a storm, which is not at all welcome except that it will bring out the common folk and their shovels... never a bad thing. And interestingly, the cigar-smoking refugee from some bad '70's disco nightmare two floors below me, whose foul off-gassing sometimes finds its way through the building's vents when the pressure and wind is just so, seems to have taken up smoking ganja as well... at least I think it must be him as I can't imagine where else it could be coming from... I sometimes get whiffs of the cooking smells in other units, which are, thankfully, usually inoffensive if not agreeable, but stinky-man is so imbued with the stench of his habit that I and many others in the building find it impossible to share an elevator with him or an elevator he's recently ridden in even without his company, and my mother actually drove past him with her van window down in the middle of winter as he was walking along the building's front drive and the malodorous cloud that clings to him was strong enough to turn her stomach while she sat in the driver's seat of the van, and him walking past the van on the passenger's side. There are tradesmen who won't go into his unit to do work because of the stink and frankly, the spine-crawling sleazy creepiness of his wardrobe (such that it makes one want to go and bathe, simply looking at his crapulous decrepitude) is so disturbing that it is impossible to shake from one's memory... That said, there is most definitely a smell of cannibanoid substances being burned, coming into my unit and the only place they would come in so strongly from is his... I know he's been hospitalized on and off recently for what the super thought was heart-related issues, but perhaps it is something more serious and he's self-medicating in order to mitigate the side-effects of his medications... Hmmm... I would not wish that on anyone though if it's the case, it is something he's brought on himself and given the strength of his habit, such that he couldn't even stop after his heart began giving out, it wouldn't surprise me if he's finally developed something horrible in his lungs, throat or mouth... I can't imagine why else he'd suddenly change his effluvium of choice... and I'm suddenly very hungry...

Hah, you are but a pimple on the ass of the Many Titted Empress, your threats do not concern me. Hah, look at me, I still exist.

This maybe true for the moment, but she will be my secretary. You stand denounced.
Stealing Party rationed ketamine is also a de-capital offense.
You also spoke ill will of The Hero Dog and Friend of The People.
How could you?
For the first time in my adult life I'm not proud of My Party™

I'm sorry, but I'm a firm believer of "4 strikes, you're out on bail".
Not even the powers of the Mighty Lord Obamessiah can help you now.*
Let the denouncements proceed.

*Try bribery or talk to my man Rezko

Obama wrote:So it is written, so he is denounced.
We have a motion on the floor for summary denouncement.
Is there a second?

It would be an honor for me to second that, O Divine One. Just the thought sends a delightful tingle up my leg.

Will there be a show trial? We haven't had one in a long time, and I have all these extra tickets leftover from Vodkov's aborted show trial. I figure I can still scalp them--in fact, they'll be snapped up in no time if I scratch out the words "show trial" and replace them with "Obama's Inauguration."

Oh goody! Maybe now I'll finally get a chance to use my new shovel with the retractable corkscrew bayonet tip.

Sorry, Radnoskovich--you're an excellent groveler, but if the Empress AND the Obamessiah call for your denouncement, I must obey.

I can only think of one thing that might save you . . .

You must go on a great quest to seek out The Mime.

Yes, Trial by Mime™ indeed Pinkie.
If he's lucky he won't get The Sludge™

Nice to see you Sister. The denouncement has just started.
Theo, do something with your protegé. Really such bad manners. Makes Meow look GQ.
He's stinking up the Cube like something in the mail from Rahm.
BTW Ratnosekotex, how do you like your sushi?
Extra rotted, moldy & mildewy, or composted?
Rahm is using his franking privileges as we speak.

Geeze, I sit down to write a tempered response to all this insubordination and before I can post it, there is a flurry of further insolence.

Gruppenfurer... Kontrol yourself, do! Your high-handedness is badly done... badly done indeed! We (that is, The Party) had thought to, charitably, attempt some sort of rapprochement as your Rottweiler-like commitment seemed a useful characteristic for our purposes... Your presumption in speaking to Laika, Hero Space Dog, in such a manner is unpardonable. Further, your saccharinely obsequious clinging to Theocritus even after he has tried to sort out you allegiances for you is sickening.

The head of Kreep Overbite is a matter which falls within the purview of Necroproxy management, a department within the Kommissariate of Housekeeping. You overstep dangerously. I am having flashbacks to the whole Pup fiasco, the echoes of which are only now fading from the inner halls of the Cube. I will not go through such a fracas again, lest the Party wish that I remove my pod and I to Potymkingrad #H20 permanently, in which case, you'll all just have to find someone else to do your laundry and clean up the Chairman's puke, not to mention strategically extracting him from whatever debacle he's managed to embroil himself in. Good luck in that - I'm sure you all remember how well it went last time I took my leave of your finger-monkey madness... Why is it that only Laika, the Pod, Pinkie, Che, and Mousey-Tongue (we take Red Square's inclusion for granted) seem to have any sense around here.... The Hero Space Dog, the Navy-Trained Dolphins, The Party's foremost woman, Our Own Dear Chef and a Feline have more common sense than the rest of the Cube combined...

Red... Glorious Incarnadine Trapezoid... I despair... truly.


Sister Massively Opiated... Upping my dosages as we speak...

It scrawled

My empress, forgive me a moment of delusion. My reasoning was affected by the olberman head, it is more dangerous than we thought. I kneel at your poorly trimmed toes.

How dare you mention my cloved trotters! Who said you could speak during your denoucement?
I say we skip the Denoucement and go straight to Purge.

Now now Hillary, there will be no such talk of a purge. Not now, not during these hard economic times, besides, we have to save every kopec for my annointment and purges cost money. Now be a good little secretary and calm down.

Laika the Space Dog wrote:Yes, Trial by Mime™ indeed Pinkie.
If he's lucky he won't get The Sludge™

Nice to see you Sister. The denouncement has just started.
Theo, do something with your protegé. Really such bad manners. Makes Meow look GQ.
He's stinking up the Cube like something in the mail from Rahm.
BTW Ratnosekotex, how do you like your sushi?
Extra rotted, moldy & mildewy, or composted?
Rahm is using his franking privileges as we speak.

HUZZAH! HUZZAH, LAIKA! (Sister slaps water with her flukes)

Truly, I have a mind to dispatch a Party Limousine in advance of the official order... and I am having Aki and Chicken Sushi lay out the heavy plastic drop cloths as I type this... Housekeeping, at least, is under control, as is the signal, my friend... as is the signal!

I did consider that perhaps his tinfoil chapeau was made of too thin material, but no... I believe it is properly tuned and the signal is at the correct strength... Kenneth would not make a mistake with one such as this. No... It is his mind which is defective. It needs only to be decided whether the limo should take him to Dr. Comrade Otis at The Karl Marx Treatment Centre first, or if he is simply a lost cause and should come straight to me...

I remain yours, respectfully,
Sister

Hillary wrote:It scrawled

My empress, forgive me a moment of delusion. My reasoning was affected by the olberman head, it is more dangerous than we thought. I kneel at your poorly trimmed toes.

How dare you mention my cloved trotters! Who said you could speak during your denoucement?
I say we skip the Denoucement and go straight to Purge.

Ps. Hah! No one ever listens to the Dolphin...

Annointment?
Wahhhhhhh......sob, sob, sob.
I suppose the Obamessiah wants me to get him a Scotch & Holy Water too....
Secretary?
Wahhhhhhhhh.....

Sniff...I listen to you Sister. If that mean Groppenfutile would have minded his own damn collective none of this would have happened.

No worries, Your Highness,

Chicken Sushi has finished with the drop cloths and as she has no appointment to massage the Chairman with his favourite mixture of Crisco, Vicks VapoRub, Dijon Mustard and whatever Chateauneuf-du-Pape vintage he is currently most enthralled with, she is on her way to you to give you a deluxe mani-pedi.

Long Live &tc. &tc.
SMO

And I denounce your denoucement. I went above and beyond to procure the olberman head.

I am done here, denounce away. I shant be back. I have had it with the opiated biatch and the pinkie biacth. And laika can smell my ass. If you fools have a banning process here is my plea. 'fuck off.

Sister wrote:squeezing rubber therapy balls (calm down Meow... those aren't what you think they are, whatever it is that you do think they are).

Sister, do you have a camera in the Rancho?

Gruppenfurer, do not be dismayed. After all, the Party tests everyone. When I first joined they threw volley balls at me all night until I cried like a little girl. It was part of my testing. And they laughed at Bruno, which didn't hurt him because he was distracted by a shiny bit of tin foil.

Gruppenfurer, you have potential. Your have zeal. You have the potential to be a true soldier marching into the Progressive World of Next Tuesday™. And we will make good use of the weaponized Olbermann head, believe me.

But do not be disrespectful of Laika, Our Many Titted Empress, Pinkie, and Cetacean Sister. They may seem to the be the pleasantest of people but I know, from experience, that they have teeth.

Laika will, if crossed, beam down evil Republican messages to your tin-foil hat, making you ineligible for all good parties.

Our Many Titted Empress--if you're not careful, she'll be in your bed and you'll wake up with your hands on her white stippled ass.

Pinkie. Ah, Pinkie. Such a sweet woman, until you cross her. And then her solid-gold but tin-plated shovel will knock the shit out of you. I don't know how she does it--three bottles of Putinka and she can still bat 1.000. If baseball were a Peoples' Game.

And Sister. Dear Sister. Just ask Bruno what happens when you cross dear Sister.

So be friendly to the party, Gruppenfurer, and you can go on a Mime hunt, all in good fun.

I am done here, denounce away. I shant be back.

Silly knigget, come back a second time and we shall taunt you again.

Esteemed Party Members!
I am having second thoughts on Radnoskovich. If he can't stand a simple denouncement, how could he withstand the 96th percentile genius that is The Mime™ ? Mikael would destroy his fray gee lay ego with only half the sneer of an Olbermann and with just one quarter of Olbermann's wit. Mikael would take Radnoskovich's 19% and divide it by three, leaving him helplessly stranded with Bush's approval rating by the vast majority of the Universe.
Europeans would shun him. Starbucks would deny him service. Panera would refuse him bread. PBS would return his pledge. Krissy Keefer would refuse to dance for him. His life would be hell.
I see no other alternative than Trial by Mime™
<img src="/images/Mime_Moonbat_180.gif" width="180" height="194" border="0">

Laika the Space Dog wrote:

I am done here, denounce away. I shant be back.

Silly knigget, come back a second time and we shall taunt you again.

Esteemed Party Members!
I am having second thoughts on Radnoskovich. If he can't stand a simple denouncement, how could he withstand the 96th percentile genius that is The Mime™ ? Mikael would destroy his fray gee lay ego with only half the sneer of an Olbermann and with just one quarter of Olbermann's wit. Mikael would take Radnoskovich's 19% and divide it by three, leaving him helplessly stranded with Bush's approval rating by the vast majority of the Universe.
Europeans would shun him. Starbucks would deny him service. Panera would refuse him bread. PBS would return his pledge. Krissy Keefer would refuse to dance for him. His life would be hell.
I see no other alternative than Trial by Mime™
<img src="/images/Mime_Moonbat_180.gif" width="180" height="194" border="0">

fuck off

Dibs on the Olbermann head! The proletariats at the Wednesday Midnight Basketball League I organize - between drawing impressions of old Soviet propaganda on the chalkboard at reeducation camps sensitivity training seminars and attending services at the local Black Theology Church - needs new equipment, and the Olbermann head will do nicely.

I don't know what it is... perhaps my extremely sensitive intuition or my superior skills as regards the application of logic, but I think that perhaps the Gruppenfurer has come back as Guest to reiterate the late Radnoskovich's final bon mot... It could just be me, but the statements seem rather similar and I can't imagine that it's the Mime hissself. And so I believe he has become, for the moment, our very own Guest in the Machine (to take liberties)... I am saddened that he couldn't come up with a more intellectually challenging insult than 'biatch'... he might have at least used some adjectives with it.

I must say I was taken aback by the swiftness of his about face. I'm terribly disappointed that during his time with us he never found The Purges section on the main Index Page, or other threads that contain denouncements and purges of members that are still very much with us... that he didn't, it seems, come to understand that IT IS A JOKE ON A COMMUNIST SATIRE WEBSITE (and we are not allowed to use smilies because Laika nips us if we do, and really, they are kinda sickening, especially when Meow uses them), and that not only do we not ban members for the banter they exchange in character (wait... this is a character, right?.. okay... whew!).. not only do we not ban members, but we don't even ban moonbats and Islamist rage-boys who spew vitriolic hate devoid of humour.. We withhold the right to make fun of them, but even then, those of us who can actually censor others.... DON'T... Because we aren't ImpeachforPeace or CodePink and none of us are Mimes or Mulvas (even the girls... tehehehe)... The most any of us who can delete or alter posts would do is add an editorial note below a post, and even then, we are more likely to simply quote another's post and respond that way, because we don't censor people here. We don't remove opinions that don't align with ours, the way the Mime and his minions and cohorts do (though come to think of it, most of the time all our opinions don't even align, which is why we don't present a hivemind front). It's more like we present little skits in character (cause nobody really believes I'm a dolphin, do they?) that illustrate the dynamics of Communism and the outcome of Liberal Moonbat thinking, which is, in fact, how Communists for Kerry began - as a group of street performers.

So I have to agree with Laika, sadly... just not up to ordering around those who fight the good fight, though in no way incapable of fighting the good fight himself... Not without potential, but just a shoveler for the moment, until we don't have to worry about that whole, "does not play well with others" thing.... and his father was a hamster and his mother smelled of elderberries... but that's neither her nor there...

I'm sorry, Dear Theocritus. I know you had high hopes, but some Rottweilers just up and snap. He needs more training (we are a no-kill political satire website), and then we'll see. But he has to come back first... or are you going to make us go out and tape up signs on lampposts that say, "LOST - Have You Seen My Gruppenfurer?"... perhaps if you were to offer a reward.

(heavy sigh)... Theo... why is it that all my best human chew toys run away?
Sister Miserably Obfuscated

By Guest
11/30/2008, 10:42 am


Laika the Space Dog wrote
Quote

I am done here, denounce away. I shant be back.


Silly knigget, come back a second time and we shall taunt you again.

Esteemed Party Members!
I am having second thoughts on Radnoskovich. If he can't stand a simple denouncement, how could he withstand the 96th percentile genius that is The Mime™ ? Mikael would destroy his fray gee lay ego with only half the sneer of an Olbermann and with just one quarter of Olbermann's wit. Mikael would take Radnoskovich's 19% and divide it by three, leaving him helplessly stranded with Bush's approval rating by the vast majority of the Universe.
Europeans would shun him. Starbucks would deny him service. Panera would refuse him bread. PBS would return his pledge. Krissy Keefer would refuse to dance for him. His life would be hell.
I see no other alternative than Trial by Mime™



fuck off

Oh goody!
Christopher Guest has discovered our humor!
We're off to the big time!

We'll call this Waiting for Gruppman.

For Goodness' Sake, Laika... NO!... or we'll be wading through lines from Spinal Tap.... Too much fucking perspective...

These go to eleven...
SMO

But we are the best of show...

Sister wrote:Mulvas (even the girls... tehehehe)...

Is that what Our Many Titted Empress has? Once here at the Rancho she was even more sauced than normal and it it <i>all</i> hang out. Bruno shrieked and fainted and I was very disturbed for quite a while. But it could be something else. I was talking to Comrade Tovarich who tells me that beginning ER interns in New York have the task of cleaning up fat bums, er, homeless people. In their collops are years of dirt and dead skin and sweat which ossifies and petrifies and then sometimes gets infected. And, dear Sister, if you're a fan of your greatest national author, Robertson Davies, you will remember the item in <i>World of Wonders</i> in which the (dyke) owner of the show three times a day has to wash down the fat lady and powder her to keep her from getting weeping sores.

And speaking of weeping sores, has anyone seen Meow?

He's out drumming up votes for his bid as CNN Hero of the Year...

Do you think that ACORN will get <i>Time</i> magazine's person of the year award?

I don't know... I can't think, now that you've inculcated my brain with the terrifying image of Meow's open sores... and just when I'd managed to stop thinking about them... damn damn damn... and now I have to go to sleep... to nightmares, I'm sure... crap...

Yo Sistah MO, good to see ya. Don't worry 'bout the Chairman's open sores, you handled the loose Oberdork head without a prob. Props to ya.

Not only open sores but weeping sores...and lesions. Don't forget the lesions. There are the cicatrices from knives and dogs' teeth and of course the missing fingers and toes--and if you haven't seen his feet as he takes off his shoes to climb into a window cat-burglar-like, you have nothing in the world to be squeamish about.

Huurk! Huurk! Huurk! Huuuuuurraaacchhk!.....

I just coughed up a hairball... and I'm not a cat....

oop... speaking of which... Rat wants his lap time.... and he's on the computer... night...

I swear this bloody cat is getting senile!... I managed to get him off my lap and get up to set up the coffee and his food and water before getting back into my chair to sleep because I had to get up early to head to this eye appointment, and as soon as I got back in the chair he was in my lap again, his paws up around my neck so I could barely turn off the light and he stayed there for most of the night... so I kept waking up from weird dreams with this 15 pound cat sprawled across my lap and chest and neck... he finally settled down into his bed and then I woke up really early so I could get my body moving before this appointment, and got coffee and the second I got back into the chair, he was up on my lap again while I was trying to type on the computer and I had to set it aside again, until he finally moved to his 'bed' again.

Anyway... I was writing cause there was a thing on the news about a sneak thief who has broken into forty houses in the last two months in one neighbourhood in Toronto and so the police have been patrolling a lot more in the neighbourhood - called The Beaches - in south east T.O... and at five this morning they got a call from a homeowner who thought they heard something and they showed up and had apparently just missed him, but he left his shoes... The police had thought from the evidence they found that he would take off his shoes to be more quiet in the houses and I guess they were right, and when he took off from the house this morning, he left his shoes behind so now they have his shoes... so they were telling people that if they saw someone running around early this morning without shoes (which would have been notable as it's been snowing) or anyone coming home without their shoes to let the police know... which is sort of dumb... if the person you were living with came home without their shoes after that story, if you were more than just house or flat mates, would you really just call the cops, or would you have a talk with them and tell them to stop?... I dunno... and then I thought I Theo describing Meow taking off his shoes to more quietly sneak into places.. heheehh...

Crap... gotta rush to get to this appointment and I still need a quick shower... gotta go... more later... and I'm really struggling to move this morning... I hate morning appointment cause I'm just way too stiff and sore to move quickly...

More later, Theo.... still have to get you back over the Meow weeping sore bare feet image... no wonder I had such weird dreams...

I'm sorry, Dear Theocritus. I know you had high hopes, but some Rottweilers just up and snap. He needs more training (we are a no-kill political satire website), and then we'll see. But he has to come back first... or are you going to make us go out and tape up signs on lampposts that say, "LOST - Have You Seen My Gruppenfurer?"... perhaps if you were to offer a reward.

Commissar Theocritis,
I'm sorry too, Commissar (yeah, sure I am) that your high hopes for ex- Uber Commissar Rad have been dashed, but SMO and I did warn you. You know that Sister is right about him just taking orders (Rad even told you when you promoted him), but unable to give orders. Sister
was too kind, as was Laika. They certainly did not deserve to be treated the way the onerous pitbull treated them, and I for one agree that if he comes back (and he's not posting under a pseudo alias), he should receive a lot more training before being given any serious responsibilities. Your zeal at acquiring a prole with his panache, blinded you to his true intentions. If you refuse to believe me, then check back to the evidence I obtained on him,(listed mind control specialist in his profile), before you promoted the slug. Maybe now you will listen when a true party member brings you the Current Truth!

waiting for Radnosvitch to return? (not in this lifetime)

Che' Gourmet

PS Dibs on his wine cellar!

Ah, yes, Ché. It seems that it is time to divide up the wine cellar. I held such hope for him--and who is now to fill the post of Professor of Treacherous Toadeating? That is a position of honor. After all, lying is crucial. If people knew what was really on offer, they'd run screaming.

I am glad to see that the problems with your People's Computer have been resolved, Comrade. It is always distressing to have to go back to the old methods of sneering face to face.