November 30, 2005

I've Been Rejected

I have few hobbies other than drinking, smoking, cooking, eating, driving my hubby batshit, torturing my dog, and watching Malcolm In The Middle Mararthons courtesy of TiVo. One other hobby is my adoration for collecting rude ass T-shirts. I have dozens of rude shirts with everything from political stuff to sex stuff to random being a jerk stuff. I wear them everywhere including the courthouse when I am not required to be in a monkeysuit turning tricks in front of the bench. Most shirts are met with amusement now since the court staff knows how crazy I am and that I have no compunction about wearing "I Enjoy A Good Spanking" to the jailhoue on visiting day. My "Ass Bandit" shirt for instance was a great conversation starter at the airport on the way to Vegas. And there are very few people intelligent enough to get my "I Support Stem Cell Research But Only As A Byproduct of My Support For Killing Babies." (Think about it.... Duh.) I guess I like expressing myself and making people think.

I buy shirts for me, my friends but not my family members. They don't understand me or my prepubescent fascination with rude shirts and sounds. I buy most of my rude T-shirts at or at Betty Bowers. I now even have my own line of "Spank Me Like A Porn Star" shirts thanks to a yeast and hops inspired night in New Jersey cowboy bar (yes, they have real cowboy bars in NJ). I find some on ebay and others are gifts from like-minded sickos like me. I really adore and buy many, many shirts from them. I even submitted my own ideas last year which they turned down. I just don't know how they can deny the world the stylistic pleasures of:

1. My mommy fucked your daddy in the ass. (*picture of a strap-on and a crying naked male in the fetal position)

2. Human Butt Plug (*picture of Dubya)

3. Please excuse my middle class white guy attempt at humor (*farting person on back)

4. Militant Agnostic- I don't give a fuck what you're talking about (*burning cross)

5. Wanna Dry Hump?

6. Bend Over for Buddha (*fat greasy guy with a salacious grin kind of like if Buddha was a gutter monkey)

7. Jesus stole my buttplug (*pic of Jesus looking innocent like "What? Me?")

8. I am a Nazi-feminist cocksucker and I swallow (*pic of smiling Donna Reed type with a napkin at her pursed lips)

9. If this T-shirt offends you, then you're a pussy bitch (*this one needs pics of two gay leather guys humping in buttless chaps)

10. Where's my K-Y? (* pic of priest and two cowering children)

I don't understand how a site that generates shirts saying "I Eat More Pussy Than Cervical Cancer" can turn me down. Especially Nos. 1 and 8. They are pretty good.

I guess I'll just learn how to draw crap on the computer and sell my own. The world has been deprived for way too long.

I'd wear them. Hell. Yeah.

November 29, 2005

Joe Lieberman is a Dork Asshole

Sometimes in the morning while I get ready for court, I turn on CNN. If politics are on (and they usually are these days) I can get my creative invective boiling and be pumped and primed for court. This morning was no different. My catalyst this morning was Joe Lieberman, one of the least inspiring, least intelligent Senators ever to "grace" the Hill. He is also the prime reason in my mind why Al Gore lost in 2000. Joe Lieberman's crime this morning?

Joe Lieberman admitted on CNN this morning in a live interview that Al Queda moved from Afghanistan to Iraq.

It's a fairly obvious statement, but he used it as a reasoning for staying the course in Iraq:

"Hey, guys, they're over here now! Quick get your gun!"

In doing so, however, he artfully skipped over the obvious point that by beating (and I use that term loosely) Al Queda out of Afghanistan and creating the problem of porous borders in a fairly centrally located, unregulated location by invading Iraq needlessly, we created a safe haven for AQ. If Saddam Hussein were still in power, AQ would not have the opportunity to train, kill American soldiers and poke a sharp stick in our eye for all of the Middle East (and world) to see. In essence, he neglected (or refused) to say we aided and abbetted the very people we are trying to destroy in their survival and subsequent expansion by opening up Iraq to them like an All-U-Can Eat buffet at a Fatty Support Group meeting.

We are creating generations upon generations of future terrorists and anti-American muslims. We are stuck doing so because assholes like Joe Lieberman refuse to use their fucking brains. What did he really expect? That Al Queda would just pack up its crayons and give up hating Americans and their allies (including the Israelis) by going into Afghanistan and blowing a few mud huts to smithereeens? Come on. No one's that incredibly stooopid.

(Oh, more.)

Joe Lieberman is a disgrace. If he were truly supporting US national security policies, he'd stop carrying water for BushCo and Israeli interests. He'd start speaking up about the bungling of our policies with China and our skyrocketing national debt. Sure, I believe him to be a serious man but I believe he has insincere intentions. Often his involvement or voice on an issue seems rooted in his own re-election efforts or his own religious beliefs. You can't protect Ken Lay with one hand and use the other to shout your disdain for crime. And you can't say you're pro-family (whatever the hell that means) when you support the uprooting and deaths of thousands in Iraq for a more secure Israel.

[As an aside: I agree with his previous statements about the need for a lasting Israeli-Palestinian peace and that the problem isn't the Palestinians per se but the terrorists who seek to divide peoples. He's right about that. It's the only pertinent way to attempt a lasting peace that protects a Zionist state; however, invading Iraq isn't a good way to do it. In fact, it's the worst possible way of accomplishing that very endeavor.]

The only way to fix our credibility problems, protect our national security interests (which do not necessarily involve Israel), and save lives is by getting out of Iraq quickly and taking the Haliburton owned security forces with us. Shooting at civilians and training Shiite troops to kills Sunnis is really, really bad PR. Karen Hughes, Lieberman and every other neo-con Bush apologist out there should know that. In a war that has been repeatedly sold as being about human rights and national security, Lieberman seems more worried about Big Oil and the safety of a sovereign nation which he does not represent. I say what about the safety of Americans and innocent Iraqis?

"Smokin' Pole" Joe ought to shut the hell up and let the Feingolds and Murthas of the world take care of national security since he cannot be honest. He ought to stick to rating video games for the other dorks out there.

November 21, 2005

I've Been Ruminating On....

Some fairly trivial matters recently in an attempt to stave off the burn-out quickly approaching this holiday season. My Christmas cards are 98.9% done (thanks to not finishing them last year giving me a headstart for this year) [Note to self: double check to make sure no one died or got divorced], my shopping is going to be lighter this year as I'm trimming my list of dickheads that are just business gifts (they never give us anything anyhow including a thank you), and I've been watching hours upon hours of Malcolm In The Middle. I love that damn show. Almost as much as my dog. Almost.

So, I was skimming some blogs I visit from time to time and saw a list of 10 movies some girl hates and it started me thinking: What 10 movies can I not stand? Which bore me to tears? Which make me itch to slit my own wrists anytime I am forced to see them? Well, here's that list:

1. Rushmore- I couldn't stay awake at the theater. My ex-college roomie thought it was spectacular. I thought it was contrived and I hate the 40 year old looking student in it, Jason Schwartzman. Maybe it's a Jewish thing....Nah, it's just a sucky thing.

2. Star Wars movies- I'm counting them as one or my list would be damn near finished. I FUCKING HATE STAR WARS AND WOULD RATHER HAVE A HOT IRON POKER SHOVED UP MY ASS ON THE 50 YARD LINE AT A MICHIGAN HOME FOOTBALL GAME. I have never, ever, ever been able to stay awake during one of these whack-off films for nerd boys. And if I have to hear about Princess Leia's (there- it's fixed for NS) cinna-bun hairdo and gold bikini one more fucking time....

3. Bat Man movies- see explanation for No. 2 above.

4. It's A Wonderful Life- Some may consider that sacrilege, but fuck 'em. This is my list. I hate this saccharine sweet asshat of a movie. I like Jimmy Stewart and I like Donna Reed (especially thinking of her giving a BJ 'cos it's dirtier coming from her than say Jenna Jameson), but damn I hate that movie. I hate it so much that everytime a bell rings I curse those fucking angels.

5. She Hate Me- I watched this one the other night when I couldn't sleep. I kept hoping it would put me to sleep (maybe an eternal one 'cos it was so bad), but it didn't. I just kept shuddering in horror. If ever there was a film that looked like it was edited by morons, and directed by illiterate, blind, prepubesent Pollacks, this would be it. It was totally disjointed and its poor attempts at morality and lessons about love were completely lost in between shots of pointless girl-on-girl action and animated sperm.

6. Team America: World Police: I tried to love this one, really. I did. But even the depiction of North Korean dictator Kim Jong Il and the "America- Fuck Yeah!" song couldn't save it. I'm sorry Matt and Trey.

7. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid- This is a jerk-off movie for "straight" guys (and yes, this includes you Boy Wonder if you're reading this). Fine. It has good cinemaphotography and great locations, but it also provided the name for that girlyass film festival and spawned the horrible woodbacked movie posters for guys to put up on their walls. Guys should just admit this is the early version of Brokeback Mountain which I will, in fact, see because it has Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal making out and having rough sex. If BCSK had had the balls to make Newman and Redford fuck each other (or at least give each other a brotherly handjob) it may have been okay. I just got tired of waiting for them to do it. Complete waste of time.

8. Metallica: Some Kind Of Monster- It just reitterated my disgust with Metallica and why they are now a bunch of pussies after having been rock gods almost on par with Led Zeppelin and the Beatles. Fucking prissy sellouts. Whaaaa, let's all cry now and have a group hug. Pointless utter bullshit. I could care less about Lars' and James' feelings. Feelings are for pussies. Not (former) rock gods. What are they clitorises?

9. Fame- My husband may have thought Irene Cara was hot, but I thought she should die. Is she black, albino, Latino, what? What? And the Jewish guy with the piano. Can he fucking shut up? And that dumbass comedian. When he crashed and burned on stage, I thought it was great. It would have only been better if the whiney chick with curls had eaten herself to death ala Orsen Welles. Mmmmm. cake.....

10. Rollerball- Chris Klein got burned by "The Soup" this weekend when they made fun of him and his uber-heterosexual crap and not liking fat chicks and they pointed out that he had such great taste in movies- namely one Rollerball. Frankly, I always thought he was gay and that Katie was a beard (at least she doesn't change her spots when she changes gays...ummm... I mean guys). Seeing him in Rollerball confirmed it. I bet that movie made the stock in Spandex drop 40 points. Did it have a plot or was it just Chris "I'm an uber-heterosexual" Klein in tight shorts bending over other guys?

November 15, 2005

Things Best Heard Only At Thanksgiving

Courtesy of one of my favorite bartenders who knows I'm squeamish neither about sex nor food:

1. Talk about a huge breast!
2. Tying the legs together keeps the inside moist.
3. It's Cool Whip time!
4. If I don't undo my pants, I'll burst!
5. Whew, that's a terrific spread!
6. I'm in the mood for a little dark meat.
7. Are you ready for seconds yet?
8. It's a little dry, do you still want to eat it?
9. Just wait your turn, you'll get some!
10. Don't play with your meat.
11. Just spread the legs open and stuff it in.
12. Do you think you'll be able to handle all these people at once?
13. I didn't expect everyone to come at once!
14. You still have a little bit on your chin.
15. How long will it take after you stick it in?
16. You'll know it's ready when it pops up.

November 10, 2005

Dr. Coburn Replies

Here's the reply verbatim. What a fucking putz.

"Dear Ms. XXXXXX:

Thank you for taking the time to write me about your concern that I was doing a crossword puzzle during Judge Roberts' confirmation hearing. I am sorry for the delay in my response. I read every letter that my constituents send. Your input is valuable to me.

I am sorry that you were embarrassed to see me characterized as disengaged or uncaring during the important confirmation hearing process. I believe that voting on a Supreme Court nominee is one of the most important decisions a Senator must make. The potential impact a Supreme CourtJustice can have on our nation is great. The Justice can either advance restrained jurisprudence or can advance judicial activism, taking away policy decisions from the legislature. Judicial activism must be reined in because it undermines the Constitution.

I took the entire confirmation process very seriously. I did not react to allegations or preconceived ideas about Judge Roberts. I waited until the completion of the hearings before I made my decision to support him. Iwill also withhold my decision on Judge Alito until I am fully informed and have had the full benefit of the hearing process.

Historically, confirmation hearings were conducted in a few hours time. Only those with questions asked them. It was not until 1868 that theJudiciary Committee began the tradition of holding hearings on those nominated to the Supreme Court. It was not until the 20th century that hearings even became public. According to one expert source, the earliest Supreme Court confirmation hearings held in open session were those in1916 but it was not until 1925 that the nominee participated.

To a large degree, modern hearings have become a theatrical event where members sometimes reveal more about their own positions than they ask ofthe nominee. I want you to know that during the time that Judge Roberts was being questioned or speaking, I did not have a crossword puzzle infront of me. I was only looking at the puzzle during the opening statements and during breaks.

However, out of respect for you and the great state that I represent, I commit that I will not do a crossword puzzle at any time during Judge Alito's hearing. Thank you for writing me, if I can be of assistance inthe future please contact my office.

Sincerely, A
Tom Coburn
TC:jg United States Senator"

Anyone wanna guess what my blood pressure is right now?

November 09, 2005

My Comments to Senator Frist Today

Fristfucker put out a call on VOLPAC's site asking for comments about Senator Reid's invocation of Rule 21 last week. The site's comments are moderated so I do not expect to be published there. Here's my comments for the entire world to see and (hopefully) enjoy:

Senator Frist,
Your comments are disingenuous, and their sourness leave a horrible stench in the Senate chamber. Do your job and fully investigate what happened to the 9-11 intelligence and how it was twisted into a needless, bloody and expensive war in Iraq. Furthermore, stop covering for Senator Roberts who has carried water for the administration for so long, he should be renamed Atlas and bronzed.
You are paid by the taxpayers of this great nation to do a job- an important and sacred job. Your abuse of the position for personal gain, your miscalculations in your quest for the White House are an abomination. Moreover, your egomaniacal tendencies require some serious counseling. I suggest you see Dr. Coburn posthaste. He can tell when you are lying to yourself about your own importance in Congress.
Resign. The Senate had more affability and attractiveness when Trent Lott ran it. And that's really saying something.
In closing, I direct you to Webster's Dictionary for a lesson in the difference between a "leak" and a "whistleblower." I expect a five page report by Monday morning.

November 08, 2005

When Do You Break It Off Inside Someone?

So yesterday, I'm in Court with a divorced couple and the hubby is waaaaaay behind in support and alimony. He gives us one excuse or another and my client has been buying it for two freakin' years. I've let her get away with it because this was an amicable divorce and I kinda like the guy in spite of his penchant for non-family activities. That's why I am so pissed at finding out recently from a friend of mine that knows this couple that hubby has been lying for two years and playing me and his ex for fools.

I hate that kinda shit.

So, I meet with him a few minutes early, ask the deputy to be on stand by because the hubby might be going to jail and I lay into him about what I had heard from this third party and that he's had more chances than he should have and that he's either paying up super fast or he can spend six months in lock-up. I work it out on paper and ask the judge for the "bad judge" speech to the deadbeat. The judge was all too happy to help out. Hell, she did such a good job, I thought I was about to go to jail.

Hubby's scare now, and the wife has some of her backbone back now knowing that hubby had played her and that the judge and I'll stand by her when she has to get tough. Afterwards, I got a nice e-mail from my client about how she admired my playing that delicate line between BBB (i.e. ball busting bitch) and respectful adversary.

I normally would reply to her, but I'm still wondering how I accomplished it. My best guess is I left my ego at home yesterday and just did the job my client needed me to do. I should have asked for jail time, and he would have gotten it. But what for? So my client and her kids don't get any money? So this guy, who's mostly an okay guy, goes to jail and has to watch his backside in the shower and loses his job? So I can feel better about trusting this SOB and getting hosed?

I'm playing a bluff and the judge was my willful partner in crime. I'm glad she is because honestly, she scares the hell out of me. I wouldn't want to be that guy next month if he hasn't paid my client something in the way of current and back support. He'll do time with no doubt. If he calls my bluff he'll do six months, if he doesn't, my client and her kids have a chance at a good holiday. I'm glad I reined in my ego yesterday.

November 07, 2005

Why I Had the Best Damn Time Ever With Grasshopper and Cricket

I spent the weekend in Las Vegas with two of the coolest girls ever. And although I will not post here everything that happened or was said (too many damn lawyers I know read this), I will expound just a tiny, tiny bit on why it was the "Best Damn Time Ever."

I met up with the girls in LV after a horrible start- namely an eight and a half hour delay in the OKC airport. If you have been to the OKC airport you will notice a few things. There are less than 20 gates all told and just 2 luggage carousels. It's small and has only one airport bar with $7 draw beers if you bother tip. It sucks. And ten and a half hours in that bar sucks- even if you do meet some really nutty people who shout your given name of "Ass Bandit" across the airport. Fortunately, the TSA folks thought it was funny and called me Ass Bandit, too, otherwise I might be sitting in a federal pen somewhere. 75 angry people all bitching and drinking for 12 hours (counting the plane) does little to improve one's disposition when you have to sit on the runway for an extra 45 minutes after you land at your destination. [Tip: They will not give you any more liquor no matter how much you ask or need it.]

Now once I get there, I'm in trouble. I have to find my rental car, and get to a hotel seeing how mine is 45 minutes away and entirely no longer an option, and it's 3 AM my time and I am seriously beat. And I still have to meet up with Grasshopper and her friend Cricket (nee MJ). Grasshopper, however, is gettin' it on with some dumbass cowboy and neither she or Cricket have reserved a room because we were all supposed to stay together 45 minutes away at the room I had booked. Thus, I have to stay in a room with two Brazilian cowboys I have never met and a girl I have only heard about from the crazy ass who's playing bucking broncos with her own farmstud. Can we say I am livid? Can we notice I am irritable, and exasperated by a series of complete fuckups? Hell, yeah! But I lay down and am snoring within a minute. I'm up 4 hours later and still pissed and seriously thinking about leaving. I relent if only to save myself the agony of sitting in another airport bar. I forewarn Grasshopper that I will get her back before the weekend is over. We grab a quick lunch at the Golden Spike for under 5 bucks and head out to the Valley of Fire. A quick foray into the Porn Outlet nets us a stack of poorly written erotica, a mismarked glass dildo, a leather paddle, some lube, and a 7 inch long, thick All Day Sucker complete with ridges and a defined glans. We spend a couple of bucks in the Peek-a-boo booth channel surfing between porn shows and get back on the road leading us into a desert.

Normally, three girls anywhere together is a bad idea unless they're the Maguire or Pointer sisters; however, the three of us made a good trio. Cricket has a great disposition and is one of sweetest girls ever, Grasshopper is the balls-out-hardcore-whiskey-swilling-tortured-unknown-poet-type (and she'll kill me for saying that when she reads this), and me, well, let's say I am up for anything provided my husband doesn't get too pissed meaning- I'm not fucking anyone, I'm not getting arrested and I'm not adopting orphaned cats. We can share Chapstick, clothes, cigarettes, shots of whiskey, our most embarrassing moments, our darkest secrets and biggest disappointments with nary an ounce of remorse or hesitation. There's no jealousy but an awful lot of respect and admiration for our likenesses and for our differences.

As I am the elder, I do most of the driving and marvel at their ability to bounce back from straight Jim Beam and vodka as they read the "purple-headed Warrior" selections in funny voices (Oh, and Grasshopper- it's "Cock"-------- not caa-ck. And I want that damn tape.). They butter me up by reminding me how young I can look and feel if given the right mindset. We acted more like close sisters than virtual strangers from the East Coast, the West Coast and the Midwest. Hell, I'd rather have both of these girls as my sisters than the ones with which I was born.

The weekend was completely bonkers with good memories. We go hiking, we drink, we eat, we bite (sorry about your nips Stoney if you're reading this), we handcuff each other to ourselves or random people, and protect each other from the pervs at the sex club. And we spank the shit out of each other with the cool leather paddle I picked up at the Porn Outlet. We tell funny stories and give possibly the worst advice about men and relationships that can ever be given. We share quiet moments and semi-openly talk about why we all have become friends. It's a mutual admiration society that hides our flaws and our fears in a conspiracy of innocent wickedness.

Whether or not we all fully acknowledged it, we all needed this weekend because each of us is at a crossroads of sorts. Both of the bug girls are in between boys, cities and jobs and I'm at that point where the 20's are becoming a fuzzy dream as my 30's are really taking hold. Each of us will fight the pressures we have voluntarily (and involuntarily) taken on in our own quirky ways. But, ultimately, we will accept the challenge and hopefully, do it without our youthful vigor fading. The three of us have a bigass "here, here, look at me!" energy that's pretty rare anymore and I guess at the end of this day, I hope we all hang on to it. Even if it means taking a couple of hits from the dullard assholes who would have us extinguish it for the sake of decorum. As I tell my husband often- just because you get older doesn't mean you have to be old. And gawd, I love those girls for reminding me of that when I most needed it.

I can't wait for the next reminder sometime next Spring whether it be Tucson or Austin or San Fran or the Derby. The best reminders are often just those barely quiet moments between beer cans being popped and Jim Beam bottles being held high with your girls while the world swirls around you in a crazed dash of light and sound and laughter and sorrow.

I didn't have the heart to really wake the girls up for a long, drawn out goodbye with hugs all around. We had only been back in our room for two hours. I just tousled their hair a bit and whispered an adios, threw on my Gators cap and loaded my gear silently into the rental car still smelling of Beam and bubble gum.

I made it to the airport with time to spare and managed to get the driver's side of the plane where I could view the Grand Canyon as we left Nevada and hit the cloud deck. It was an awesome sight that made me tear up. I wish they had been there with me to raise a glass high or give me some knuckles for crossing one off my must do list.