Sadness...
Brother Rob is leaving a bitch!
Loyal readers know that Brother Rob Thurman is a bitch’s co-worker. For two years this bitch has worked with Brother Rob in our tiny office. My ass liked Brother Rob right off the bat…he was funny, cynical, smart and bitchy which are all the best qualities in a person. Oh, and he knows fashion, good corn bread and how to dance. So, for two years my ass has had the privilege of working with someone a bitch could truly admire and respect.
Getting to know Brother Rob has been a blessing. For my birthday this year, he gave a bitch her blog. This bitch will always be grateful for that not so subtle push into the blog world. And my ass will always be grateful to the Devine One for leading me down the path that introduced me to Brother Rob Thurman!
A bitch is proud to call Brother Rob my friend and sorry that he will no longer be my co-worker. My ass looks forward to continuing our work with the United Church of Bitchitude and Latter Day Drunks…look for a church meeting announcement soon!
Brother Rob is moving on the work in development with a local agency servicing the homeless in St. Louis.
Sigh.
Well, shit…how can a bitch resent that?
Fair thee well, Brother Rob! A bitch expects regular visits and frequent gatherings at Sweetie Pie’s.
You are the shit…don’t you ever forget that!
Sob.
Pulling my ass together and moving forward…
Buyer's Remorse...
A bitch has been reflecting on all the shit that has gone down in the past two years.
Scooter proposed an overhaul to Social Security that included privatization and a ton of other costly changes.
Scooter proposed a Constitutional Amendment to ban gay marriage.
Scooter muscled through a prescription drug benefit to Medicare that no one understands. Because the new system prohibits the government from negotiating with drug manufacturers on drug costs the benefit has amounted to nothing…some drugs probably cost more and seniors are getting screwed.
Scooter has fucked up his unjust war. Now, with 2000 Americans dead and no end in sight he is left mumbling stay the course to an apathetic audience.
The Supreme Court has seen one very qualified and scary nomination followed by another unqualified and scary nomination. Harriet Miers appears to be on the outs and the only person who doesn’t see that yet is Scooter.
The economy is fucked, raises are flat, fuel costs are through the roof, the environment is fighting back, devastation is left unaddressed and Prozac is seeing huge profits.
Americans are poised to enter the holiday season depressed, broke, stressed, cold, uninsured and uninspired.
It’s no huge surprise that a new poll shows that Scooter wouldn’t win if a presidential election were held today.
Some of us saw this shit coming…we never voted for him and we never supported his policy fuck-ups. Others are experiencing the wrath of Scooter for the first time…stings doesn’t it?
Well, on behalf of all of us who tried to warn you…FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU FOR NOT LISTEING TO A BITCH!
Now, do my ass a favor…learn from this harsh and devastating lesson and do some fucking homework next time!
Oh Devine One...please send us a candidate with real values, good ideas and the intelligence to implement them!
Anticipation...
A bitch is excited about the pending announcement in the CIA leak case. My ass is all a flutter!
Shit!
This bitch is prepared for the worst and hopeful for the best. This shit stinks to high heaven and a bitch would like to see someone go down for pulling a shitty stunt like this. However, a bitch is wise and aware that the powerful rarely face punishment for the evil they do.
Tick tock, tick tock…MY ASS CAN’T STAND IT!
A bitch has a confession to make…my ass is hoping for a trial. A nice, long, emotional trial to hold me over until the elections in 2006. Hopefully, there will be cameras in the courtroom. Gawd, a bitch is getting all worked up just thinking about it!
Oh well, nothing to do but wait and imagine the media orgasm that will hit should indictments be announced.
For all this agony a bitch is praying for some indictment ecstasy...
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9 comments:
I've been reading your blog for about two weeks and I'm hooked. As a rule, I shy away from anything political, simply because it's too damned depressing. Thanks for putting a spin on things that I can appreciate!! Oh, and I like to call Scooter.. The Shrub.
Your's Truly,
Emotionally Unbalanced Multi-Racial Redneck
So many questions???
So many possibilities...
Another bitch can't wait either!
BTW this bitch is seriously looking at the Libertarian Party AND John Roberts is a Federalist Pig!
This bitch is totally sick of the so called moral bastards causing mayhem and looting in all other areas of life except the abortion discussion. What the total fuck? Its like because they are pro life that gives them the RIGHT to fuck up all the other shit????
Hel-LO!!!!
Your in continued bitchifies...
AOB
Wasn't Cheney the leak? I thought I read that somewhere yesterday...
Yay for Brother Rob! Sounds like a good opportunity and a job where he'll have satisfaction in knowing he's DOING SOMETHING to help.
For the record, I didn't buy Scooter. In fact, I was partial to a competing product. He was delivered to my doorstep by my conservative relatives and neighbors, and giftwrapped by Diebold. I've been trying to throw a White Elephant party ever since to foist him off on someone else.
I miss you, bitch!
For your enjoyment while awaiting pending announcements in the CIA leak case (as posted at my inept blog):
'Twas the Night Before Fitzmas
(with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)
'Twas the night before Fitzmas, when all through the White House
political operatives were stirring, even Porter Goss.
The aides were going through their papers with care,
in hopes that St. Fitzgerald would not come there.
President Bush was nestled all smug in his bed,
with visions of Jim (Beam) and Jack (Daniels) dancing in his head.
And Jenna with Vodka, and Barbara with gin,
even Laura, Condi and Harriet decided to join in.
When out at the gates there arose such a clatter,
Cheney sprang from his chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window with much ado,
tore open the shutter, and shouted, “F--- you!”.
With the aides all running around out of their wits,
Rove knew in a moment it must be St. Fitz.
More rapid than eagles, his indictments they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now Cheney! Now Libby!
Now, Bolton and Matlin!
On, Bartlett! On, Card!
On, Hadley and McClellan!
To the top of the porch!
To the top of the wall!
Now (frog) march away! March away!
March away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
so up to the White House the indictments they flew,
with cars full of Feds, and St. Fitz too.
And then, with a twinkling, Cheney heard enter the room
the prancing and pawing of a buffoon.
As he drew in his head and was turning around,
Into the room President Bush came with a bound.
He was dressed like a soldier, just one of the troops,
and his walking was erratic he kept going in loops.
A bottle of joy he had in his hand,
and he looked like a reject from a rock’n’roll band.
His eyes--how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a smirk,
and told Cheney to drink and not be a jerk.
The stump of a pot pipe he held tight in his teeth,
and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He looked for Rove and his big round belly,
When he saw Fitzgerald, his legs turned to jelly.
He was smirking and cursing, a right furious monkey,
and I laughed when I saw him, and thought of the Donkey.
A blink of his eye and a jerk of his head
soon gave me to know we had nothing to dread.
Fitz spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and handed out the indictments, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, out the door he went to the Garden of Rose.
He sprang to his car, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Fitzmas to all, and to all a good night!"
I swear, if ROve, et al, get indicted, it will be like the best orgasm ever.
I'd declare it a UCoBaLDD Holy Day, if I were you.
I await the coming of Fitzmas like a young child waits for Santa Claus. We will be given gifts soon, y'all, very soon.
we pray a lot alike.
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