Archive for September, 2008

September 21, 2008 | Filed under: 30 seconds and under, la famiglia

For whatever reason, ALWAYS funny!

September 13, 2008 | Filed under: 20 seconds and under, amigos

Or not.

I come home to the oddest messages, sometimes.

September 7, 2008 | Filed under: country mouse

Let’s take a break from the Palin Madness (oh, come on! Just a wee break…) to enjoy some calm, soothing, quiet time with some of the gentler dumber woodland creatures.

It’s lunchtime in the forrest. Let’s see who shows up.

Shhhhhhhh!

September 1, 2008 | Filed under: politics are only fun when there's a sex-scandal, un-vlogged

For the love of Pete Rose: whacknut pregancy theory number three (or was or four?) turns out to be truetruetrue.

Shine a little truthlight this way, honeychile!

All other things being equal, the simplest solution is the best.  What does this change? Oh, for me not much. A fantabulously sick and delicious rumor has been replaced by a totally pedestrian one, and that’s fine. In the end, we’re still left with Sarah Palin, BFF (Big Fat Fibber).

Sure, go ahead and work the “I was protecting my daughter” angle. Be my guest. If anyone actually believes for one second that Sarah Palin wasn’t trying to keep this story down for as long as humanly possible (let’s see, if Bristol is five months pregnant now, she’d be due, let’s see now… after November 4th) then they are sadly deluded.

If that crazy-ass Trig rumor hadn’t started this would not have come to light. There would have been a small quiet wedding (”Just close family!”) and then in Winter a new baby for the happy young couple. Maybe they’d even try to pull the old “she’s a preemie, but she’s 8 lbs! We’re so lucky!” trick that so many people pull when they get pregnant before they get married. So where does that leave us? It leaves us with Sarah Palin, she of the crappy judgment, she of the pregnancy-hiding, she of Troopergate, she of the “signed, Your Creator” emails.

God, I love holiday weekends.

Oh, and you know what else? Abstinence-only teaching doesn’t. F*cking. Work.

What sucks is that Bristol will not know one minute’s peace, not through this election, perhaps not ever. And, jeez, like we needed yet another high-profile teen getting pregnant.