You Know What Pisses Me Off?

August 31, 2006

Neo-con columnists (I’m looking at you, R. Emmett Tyrrell, Jr.) who scream about respecting the President and respecting the office and how saying anything bad about Bush is a treasonous offense and then write columns devoted to slamming ex-President “Bubba.”

Now, I happen to like Clinton. I happen not to care who helped or helps him get his rocks off. I happen to think a President capable of putting together a coherent sentence, building up a budget surplus and NOT GETTING U.S. CITIZENS KILLED IN A USELESS WAR is worth a sexual indiscretion that isn’t really my business anyway.

So I call him Mr. President with all willingness. And Emmett, you should, too, at least according to your own rules.

But Bush? Well, first of all, I don’t believe he’s ever been elected President by any process we would call “legal” so right there I’m exempt from the Neo-Con Respect Rule.

So let’s call him what he is: Idiot. Moron. Religious Fanatic. Worst Chief Executive Ever. Take you’re pick.

Bubba doesn’t sound so bad anymore, does it, Emmett?

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There’s a Piece of Me Missing

August 1, 2006

I write now, after a long absence, feeling as if I’m missing something. I feel like something I used to hold deep inside of me has been taken away, discarded like a diseased thing. I feel like…like…like I had my appendix taken out!

And I did.

It started out like a stomach ache, as if the McDonalds meal I wolfed down at 9:30pm after work was doing its usual number on my digestive tract. But it just kept getting worse. After being up all night I went to the ER and they sent me home with Maalox.

It didn’t work.

18 hours later I’m back in the ER after having discovered that if I touch my abdomen over the area of my appendix I can make myself do a really fun jumping in the air and screaming in pain dance. The ER doctor wants to see this dance for himself, apparently, because he pokes me in the stomach with a grim but slightly amused look on his face. Later that night I am relieved of my appendix and given many, many happy pills. Merck, I love you.  

So I’m back in action, albeit a little unsteady on my feet. More on this soon as well as updates to the More Music page.