Some people accuse me of being "closed-minded" just because I hit anyone I disagree with in the head with a pipe, and that makes me so angry I want to hit those people in the head with a pipe.

So how's your day going?

I'm doing a little lyrics thing over at mm (no Googling!). You're welcome to participate.

Since it's Friday, I thought I'd spread the joy of humor-free, apolitical Friday Catblogging to IMAO (aka "I-MEOW").

Sure, some of the IMAO bloggers have cats, but none of them have spent as much time in IMAO Labs working on the balance between blogging and cats... EUREKA! (The litterboxes need changing)

Anyway, it's time for Patriotic Piper:

If you're not sure how this absurd scene pertains to IMAO, since IMAO is famous for that "political humor" thing, it doesn't. If you must have some semblance of politics or humor in everything you read here, just assume that Piper is... um...

Help me out here. Make your suggestions in the comments how this scene is, in fact, a political allegory.

You can find more examples of Friday catblogging by searching a blog search engine such as Technorati for "catblogging."

You can also find a roundup of catblogging posts at The Friday Ark, located at The Modulator blog. Then, when the weekend is nearly over, head over to The Carnival of the Cats for more kitty goodness. There's also a Flikr Group called Furry Friday.

Add to that Weekend Catblogging at Eatstuff.

Anybody I miss?

Why do I never get a carnival of comedy reminder?

I'm always having to make them. The carnival is supposed to be today at Blogs for House. But I'm not sure if there are many entries seeing how I forgot to post the real reminder on Tuesday.

[Later, after Spacemonkey forgets to post this]

Hey look that carnival is up at blogs for house . Sorry for being a neglectful spacemonkey.

Steve the Pirate wil be hosting next week.

P.S. I'm going to Atlanta this weekend. The one in Georgia.

BEGINNING OF STORY

PREVIOUS (PART 9)

* * * *

Lulu opened the door and marched into the room. The others followed with Bryce taking up the rear. The room, lit by a single light bulb, was empty except for a table upon which sat a cylindrical device. When they approached it, out popped what resembled an eye. "I assume you are here for the job?" asked a highly synthesized voice.

Lulu folded her arms and stood up straight. "That we are, little robot thing."

The eye seemed to scan the four of them. It creeped Doug out, as he always had a fear of robots. "I will require you to infiltrate a military research base in the land of Asmod and retrieve some data. The information on the facility is ready for your download."

"Bryce, handle that," Lulu sharply commanded.

Bryce took a handheld computer and connected a cable to the robot. After a couple of seconds, Bryce disconnected the cable and checked the screen. "The information is here. I also sent you our bank account information."

"The initial ten percent has been transferred," the robot replied. "Since we are done, I will self-destruct."

"Then I guess we'll be going." Lulu smiled and then quickly led everyone out of the room.

Charlene shut the door behind them and looked at Bryce. "Ten percent?"

Bryce put his computer away. "For starting costs. The rest--" An explosion in the other room interrupted Bryce. "The rest we get upon completion."

Charlene looked furious. "The rest of what?"

Bryce turned to Lulu. "You know how you said you wished you'd get mall certificates for all the battles you fight? Well, that's sort of the arrangement we have... but instead of mall gift certificates, it's untraceable cash deposits."

Lulu eyes widened. "Which can even be used for a day at the spa!"

The next thing out of Lulu's mouth was a yelp as Charlene yanked one of her pigtails. "He's making us mercenaries, you twit!"

"Mercenary" seemed to be a pretty cool title to Doug, but he couldn't help but be concerned about anything that was one of Bryce's ideas. "Is this legal, or are we going to get executed for this?"

Bryce thought for a moment. "Those are really two different questions, Doug. The illegal things that people get executed for are things like speaking out against the government - subversive things. Being a murderous thug, on the other hand, rarely catches the eye of the government, because it's of no threat to their hierarchy. Actually, all the governments, realizing that there will always be a certain criminal element to society, have put some regulations on it. So, to answer Doug's question, we will be criminals, but I've done enough research to make sure our criminal activities follow the letter of the law so we don't get in trouble."

Doug, as usual, was confused, but so apparently were Charlene and Lulu. Charlene stopped trying to parse Bryce's words to shout, "I'm not a mercenary! I fight for the honor of our divine Empress."

Bryce rolled his eyes. "Yes, like the battle today where they tried to kill you off to fill a quota. Guess who is hiring us, by the way? Empress Proserpine's own government... I think." Charlene continued to scowl at him. "Anyway, because of treaties, the government needs to unofficially hire mercenaries to get the real work done. If you want to fight important battles with a meaningful purpose - money - then this is what you need to be doing to best serve Empress what's-her-face."

"I think this is a neat idea," Lulu said, "especially if we won't get executed for it. I think you'll actually like this, Charlene, but if you want to be a part of my mercenary group, you have to be less bitchy."

Charlene calmed a bit, but she still eyed Bryce suspiciously. "So why did you really put her in charge?"

Bryce hesitated to reply for a moment. "If you look at statistics, the most underrepresented group among criminals are Asian females, so having her in charge will give us a big advantage in getting contracts in the future."

Charlene laughed. "So she's just filling quotas."

Lulu looked indignant. "I'm very good at filling quotas."

"A diverse makeup really is important in getting government contracts," Bryce explained, "and we have a good group here: half women and half minorities." He pointed to Doug. "I'm not really sure what Doug is, but it looks like he's something."

"I really like nachos, so I think I might be Hispanic." Doug started to notice the weight of the bags he was still carrying. "Are we going to go somewhere soon so I can set these down?"

"Sure, let's get something to eat now so we can discuss this." Bryce led them toward the exit.

"So, what will the Asmods do if they find out we're stealing something from them?" Lulu asked.

"They'll kill us, of course," Charlene said.

"But the whole reason I want out of the military is I don't want to be killed!"

Bryce opened the building's front door for the ladies. "Don't worry, tri-Lu; now we control the risks on these operations. We're not just going to charge in shooting; instead, we'll have a smart plan to get in and out with no one the wiser. Plus, we have that ten percent to help finance our plan. This will hardly be risky at all, I assure you."

This actually seemed like a great idea to Doug. He figured he'd probably still just be carrying things for this plan, but he'd be carrying things on behalf of a secret mission!

"So how much is this ten percent?" Charlene asked as they headed down the street.

"It's... well..."

Charlene scowled. "On second thought, I’d rather see the actual account than take your word for it."

"Suddenly she's concerned about the money." Bryce chuckled until a number of bullets struck the wall next to him, just missing his head. "Oh, hell."

NEXT

Help Save Science Fiction at Jim Baen's Universe!
(NOTE: Frank J.'s hastily hacked together stories are in no way supported or condoned by Baen)

Apparently lots of places in America where I don't live are getting flooded. Thus, I had my crack research team find out all they can about floods to help you wet citizens out there.

FUN FACTS ABOUT FLOODS

By now you have probably heard about the latest 'rebuke' to the Bush Administration. This was a 'major setback' for Dubya as the Supremem Court said that he 'overstepped his bounds' when he tried to hold military tribunals to seek punishment against these detainees.

So must we let these people go? Of course not. We can keep them throughout the War On Terror, we just can't prosecute them.

Confused?

Don't be.

Here are

The Top Ten Things That Will Change at GITMO As A Result Of The SCOTUS Ruling.

10. Nothing.

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9. Nothing

*

8. Nothing

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7. Nothing

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6. Nothing

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5. Nothing

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4. Nothing

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3. Nothing

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2. Nothing

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And the Numberr ONE thing that will change for the GITMO detainees as a result of the SCOTUS ruling...

ABSOLUTELY Nothing

Jim Baen has passed on. I'm sorry I'll never really get to know him, but the work he has made in SF publishing will live on.

On a more personal note, as everyone know by now, fellow blogger Acidman has died as well. I put off posting about it because I never really know what to say in these situations. It's hard to think that someone who used to leave funny, vulgar comments on my blog is now gone. The blogosphere will be a less colorful place without him.

(A Precision Guided Humor Assignment)

The Pew Research Group conducted of survey European, Muslim, and other useless nations and concluded that most people consider the US to be a bigger threat to world peace than Iran's nuclear program.

Piffle.

Neither one of those is a significant threat to world peace.

You want to know what REALLY threatens world peace? I've got a list:

Global cooling warming temperature stagnation.

People cutting into my traffic lane when I'm not watching the road because I'm busy cleaning my gun.

Saying "Michelle Malkin sure is cute" when SarahK is in the room.

Spanish apes with legal rights. Is there no stopping the accursed monkey menace?

Selling cars so small that you'd be lucky to fit a single clown into them.

My wife changing my Google settings to "Safe Search". Doesn't she know that viewing nude olsen twins pictures is crucial to worldwide geopolitical stability?

Any operational printing press at the New York Times.

Toddlers holding chem warfare drills.

Donald Rumsfeld buying a new pair of strangling-gloves and needing to "break them in".

President Hillary Clinton

Q: How many Pakistanis does it take to screw in a light bulb?

The city of Berkely is going to let voters decide whether to call for the impeachment of President Bush. What will it achieve?

BEGINNING OF STORY

PREVIOUS (PART 8)

* * * *

Doug looked at the sign marking the corner of Geist and Minton and then at the surroundings. It was night, and the area had few streetlights. What the lights did reveal - abandoned broken buildings and some shady characters loitering about - was not too assuring. "So is this like the worst part of town?"

Bryce adjusted his tie. "Pretty much."

A bus stopped at the corner and out walked Lulu carrying a couple shopping bags, followed by Charlene who had her arms folded and a somber expression. "I bought some really cute things," Lulu announced to Bryce and Doug cheerfully. "Nothing helps me get over death and dismemberment better than some good shopping. Charlene was a drag, though. Kept saying nothing looked good and didn't even try anything on."

Bryce nodded. "She was probably upset by today's events, but, not wanting to consciously admit that, she's now acting in a passive-aggressive manner."

Charlene pointed a threatening finger at Bryce. "My aggression is never passive!" As the bus drove away, Charlene looked at her surroundings. "Where the hell are we?"

Lulu appeared scared by the locale. "I thought you guys were taking us to a restaurant, but I don't see any restaurants here... and even if there were one, I don't think I'd want to eat at it."

"The dinner comes a little later," Bryce said. "First, we have business to attend to."

Lulu kept looking about cautiously. "Is the business that plan where you said I get to be in charge?"

Charlene marched up into Bryce's face. "What plan?" She turned to Doug with burning eyes. "What did you get me into?"

Doug couldn't help but shiver slightly. "I really thought we were just going to dinner! Honest!"

"I guess it's time I tell the truth," Bryce said. Doug immediately paid attention, as that phrase always preceded Bryce's most elaborate and entertaining lies. "I've been tasked to assemble a team for an important secret mission. After seeing you two perform in battle, I've chosen you two ladies to be a part of this, Charlene Murphy and Lulu... um..."

"Liu."

Bryce grimaced. "Your name is Lululu?"

Lulu glared at him. "No. It's Lulu Liu. You better get that straight if I'm going to be in charge."

Charlene laughed. "I don't buy this for a second, and even if I did, you're really putting Lulu in charge?"

Bryce kept a very serious expression. "While you're quite skilled in combat, Ms. Murphy, Lulu has special leadership qualities."

"I don't just yell at everyone," Lulu told Charlene, "and my solution to everything isn't to execute someone by gunshot to the head as an example to others. That's not how you make friends."

"Leadership in war is not about making friends." Charlene looked at the ominous buildings around her. "So why would we meet here?"

Bryce shrugged. "Why not here?"

A man in filthy clothes walked up to the four. He smiled with rotten teeth and then produced a knife. "Why don't you hand over everything of value you have before I gut you all!"

Bryce pulled out his gun at pointed it at the thug. "Rock beats scissors. Now scram!"

The thug ran off. Charlene stared at Bryce and his gun. "Where did you get that? We’re not supposed to have weaponry when in civilian capacity!"

"I hit a goon with a pipe and we got some guns," Doug said proudly.

"Did you kill him?" Lulu asked.

Doug hadn't even considered that possibility and thus became quite worried. "I dunno!"

Charlene let out something between a yell and a growl. "What did I get myself into? Who even are you two?"

Bryce put away his gun and smiled. "I'm Bryce Worthington, an entrepreneur of sorts. My associate here is... well... Doug."

"Doug Na," Charlene said. "I checked his military file." She looked at Doug. "What kind of name is that?"

"My last name isn't really Na. I don't have a last name, so that's what they told me to put in the space for a last name on the form."

Charlene thought for a moment. "Oh, 'N/A'."

"Yeah, that's how they told me it was spelled."

Charlene turned to Lulu. "So we're dealing with some sort of arrogant swindler and a moron who supposedly have some 'secret mission' for us."

Lulu giggled. "And I'm in charge. Isn't that cool?"

"About that." Bryce looked Lulu over. "The mini-skirt and bunny t-shirt might not convey the sense of leadership we need."

Lulu frowned. "But they're cute."

"That they are, but cute isn't what we're going for."

Lulu set down her shopping bags and stood on her tiptoes to be face to face with Bryce. "Well, maybe I'm such a strong leader that I even command authority while looking cute."

"Okay... but can we do something about the pigtails?"

Lulu shook her fist in Bryce's face and snarled, "Why don't you worry about yourself instead of my hairstyle." She put her hand down and giggled. "See, I can even be threatening if I need to."

Doug didn't think she was successfully threatening, but she was better at it than Shannon.

Charlene, on the other hand, looked quite threatening without even trying, and Doug thought she’d make an excellent goon. "This is beyond moronic. Lulu, let's get out of here." Charlene turned to leave.

Bryce ran in front of Charlene. "At least stay for the mission briefing. That will remove all doubts."

Lulu looked excited. "A secret mission briefing could be fun... plus Bryce still owes me dinner."

Charlene rolled her eyes. "Fine. Maybe I can beat up the next mugger as training so this whole night isn't a waste."

"Follow me, then. Doug, carry Lulu’s things." Bryce led them down the street as Doug carried now both Bryce’s and Lulu’s bags.

Charlene turned to Doug. "How do you not have a last name?"

"I never knew my parents, and the orphanage never gave me a last name."

"Barely gave him a first," Bryce added.

"And how did you get involved with this con artist?" Charlene pointed at Bryce, who ignored her.

"We grew up in the orphanage together. We've been best friends since forever."

"Associates," Bryce corrected. He led them into what appeared to be just one of many abandoned buildings. Doug began to wonder how much of this "mission" Bryce really knew about and how much he was about to discover along with them. Doug got a partial answer when Bryce came to a door and stopped, his hand hovering over the doorknob with some hesitance.

Bryce looked at Lulu. "Well, you're the leader, so... lead away."

NEXT

Help Save Science Fiction at Jim Baen's Universe!
(NOTE: Frank J.'s hastily hacked together stories are in no way supported or condoned by Baen)

The go make fun of baseball.

GOP and College has a new caption/photoshop contest going on.

"I am here to announce that an Al Qaeda terrorist cell on our own soil has been destroyed," Bush said to the press. "You may now praise me for how super-smart I am."

"Is this 'terrorist cell' you refer to the New York Times?" asked a reporter.

Bush shrugged. "I don't know what these terrorists chose to call themselves, but what I do know is they provided aid and comfort to the enemy and tried to inform them of our spying efforts. Now, all those involved in this said terrorist cell have been either killed or captured. The captured are now at Gitmo where they will be forced to listen to rap music while we fiddle with the AC. Oh, and we may beat them with sticks." Bush looked to Attorney General Alberto Gonzales. "Hey, Gonzo, is it okay to beat them with sticks?"

"Doesn’t affect me, so I don’t care."

Bush turned back to the press. "Well also beat them with sticks. Any other questions?"

"Isn't punishing the New York Times for revealing a program they thought to be questionable in its legality have implications on our freedom of speech?" a reporter inquired.

Bush laughed. "That's silly. We never stopped anyone from the New York Times from speaking. We just... well... shot them. I want everyone to know that they are free to report on any spying programs they know about. That we may kill you for it is neither here nor there."

"What do you say to reports that Donald Rumsfeld has been spotted wandering around New York with an expression like he's about to hurt someone?"

"Again, that's a dumb question," Bush said. "Rumsfeld always looks ready to hurt someone because he is, at all times, ready to hurt someone. As for being in New York, he decided to personally take on a special assignment. We know that the New York Times has been publishing information of interest to terrorists, but we aren't certain how that information gets to terrorists. With the recent spying program leak, it was first publicized by talk radio and blogs... but we know none of those people actually read the Times. But, somewhere out there, there must be one sick bastard who actually reads the New York Times and then blabs about what's in it. Since someone so twisted must be a danger to society, we will apprehend and/or kill him. Probably kill him."

"I have a question about--"

"Is that a camera?" Bush shouted, pointing at a TV camera. "Are you people recording this? You're all terrorist spies! Get them, Secret Police!"

Bush's Secret Police ran into the room and started beating the reporters with clubs. Bush turned to Alberto. "So is it okay I ship all these people off to Gitmo?"

"Again, doesn't affect me, so I don't care. Now don't ask me anymore questions unless it's about what pizza toppings we're going to order."

Q: Why did Senator Robert Byrd (D-WV) vote against the Flag Burning Amendment in the Senate?

Just saw this quote from John Murtha:

"We do not want permanent bases in Iraq," Murtha told the audience. "We want as many Americans out of there as possible."

I think that by "we", he means "Al Qaeda and I".

I checked and checked and finally quit checking and then he posted it.

I check today and SteveO had posted it a few days ago. The theme didn't work out. but hey, whoever does buy Mexico had better be a Mexican because otherwise it could be seized at any time. At least that's the word on the street. And the street is usually pretty reliable.

So.....

Here is your Carnival of Comedy # 60. Yay!

Poor Rush. He's been gonig through so much lately.

The good news is that he promised the judge he would straighten out. The bad news is he needed Viagra.

So what's it like when you're rich and famous and the whole world knows about your... um.. medication? I don't know. Why are you looking at ME? Let's change the subject as quickly as we can...

Anway, what were those first few minutes like when they first checked his bags and found he had a bottleof Viagra with Rush's doctor's name on it instead of his own? Rush Limbaugh Busted With Viagra!! A man can do a lot of fast talking when caught with with a bottle of Viagra. Or a small farm animal.

WHAT?

STOP STARING AT ME!!!

Anyway, here's my top ten...

Top Ten Statements by Rush Limbaugh When He Got Busted With A Bottle of Viagra.

10. I didn’t think twice when they asked me if I had a "suspicious package."

*

9. Please note: Half the pills are gone. (winks)

*

8. I tried to bribe the pilots for a turn at the wheel but they only accept beer.

*

7. What do you MEAN they're not Advil’s???

*

6. They're for work. Viagra helps me keep my energy up at high altitudes.

*

5. Will you please stop asking me if I’m Happy To See You!!!

*

4. Honest mistake. I told the flight attendant that I wanted something for my peanuts.

*

3. Are you SURE that the Mile High Club involves TWO people?

*

2. I’d kill for some painkillers. And a lap dance.

**

And the NUMBER ONE Statement by Rush Limbaugh When He Got Busted With A Bottle of Viagra.

"I think the pills started working. Could you frisk me again?"

It has been ruled that Marines are allowed to sing.

Yay Marines! Boo CAIR!

BEGINNING OF STORY

PREVIOUS (PART 7)

* * * *

Doug stumbled out of the apartment and down the front steps. When he regained his balance, he found himself face to face with a stern looking young woman in a black suit. She grabbed him by his coat collar. "And where are you going?"

"I'm just... uh..."

Standing a number of inches shorter, she pulled Doug down to eye-level. "Did you happen to see a man in there who looks to spend a little too much time working on his hair? Goes by the name of Bryce?"

Doug had long ago been told by Bryce to never tell any woman - especially an angry-looking woman - where he is. "No, I never saw such a person."

She stared at Doug for a moment. He just wasn't a great liar. "Speaking of hair, you might want to invest in a comb yourself."

Doug ran his hand through his matted black hair. "It's been a busy day."

She shoved Doug away, but she ended up being knocked back from the effort more than him. "Now tell me where Bryce is before I have to hurt you."

The women looking for Bryce usually only threatened Bryce with violence. "I know Bryce can kinda be a jerk, so it's probably better you just forget about him."

She pulled out a knife and pointed it at Doug's face. "I'll forget him when he's dead. Now tell me where he is before I take one of your eyes."

"Aren't you taking this way too seriously?"

She sneered. "I don't think you understand the kind of people Bryce has pissed off; you'll be lucky if you don't wind up dead just for knowing him."

Kind of people? Doug was confused for a moment, but then something clicked. "Wait; are you a goon?"

She looked a bit uncomfortable by the question. "My title is 'Enforcer'."

"Which is like a goon, right? I mean, you're hired by some guy to rough people up?"

"And that job is called an 'Enforcer'."

Doug looked the young woman over. She was kinda cute and not at all imposing... even with the knife pointed at him. "You really don't look like a goon."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well... you're not intimidating at all. Goons should be able to intimidate people."

She now pressed the blade of her knife against Doug's face. "I think you'll be scared once I start cutting you!"

"I wouldn't like it, but I still don't think that would make you seem like a goon. I mean, a little kid could come at me waving a knife, and I might be scared of getting cut, but the kid still wouldn't be intimidating." Doug thought for a moment. "It's kinda hard to describe, but when I think of a goon I think of someone who should be able to scare me even without a weapon."

"Are you saying women can't be goo... enforcers?"

"No, I'm just... uh... saying that, even for a woman, you're not very goonish."

A large man also in a black suit came out of an alley from behind the apartment building. "I don't see any other exits," he told the goonette. He had a scarred face and was a number of pounds bigger than Doug, and all of it looked to be muscle.

"Now he's what I think of when I hear the word 'goon'," Doug said. "He's intimidating."

The man walked right up to Doug, and the goonette backed off a bit. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I was just telling the lady goon there that she doesn't seem goonish. I didn't mean it personal or anything."

The goon grabbed Doug by his collar and lifted him up slightly. It was pretty scary and much less awkward than when the goonette did it. "That's sexist! Shannon is a very a good goon."

"Enforcer!" Shannon corrected.

"She's roughed up a lot bigger punks than you," the goon said.

"Maybe she has, but that's not what I was talking about. Now, I've never hired goons, but I have been roughed up by them before. And, to me, a goon should be scary even before the roughing up, just like you're doing now. She just isn't intimidating, that's all." As Doug got into the argument, he began to gesticulate a bit. This caused the pipe in his sleeve to slip into his hand and reminded him why he was out here in the first place. "Oh yeah." He smacked the goon in the head, sending him straight to the ground. He then turned to Shannon and held up the pipe, ready to strike again, but just couldn't hit her, as she really didn't look that intimidating.

As Doug stood still with the pipe posed over his head, Shannon pointed her knife at him, her hand visibly shaking. Her left hand slowly reached under her jacket. "I have a gun!"

"Well... if you pull out that gun, I'll bash you good! I really will!"

"This is one pathetic stalemate." Doug glanced to his side see that Bryce was bent over the downed goon. Bryce pulled a gun out of the goon’s jacket and then stood up and pointed it at Shannon. "You mentioned something about having a gun; why don't you slowly give that to me."

She dropped her knife and handed over a pistol. "You're not going to get away with this, Bryce," she told him in an attempt at a threatening voice that Doug thought really fell short. "You're a dead man."

"Why does everyone take everything so personally?" Bryce looked to Doug. "Now give her a good whack."

"But she's unarmed."

"Which should make it easy."

Doug looked at Shannon, who stared back in fear. He closed his eyes and prepared to swing, but Shannon bolted. Bryce aimed one of his guns at her but eventually just threw his hands in the air. "Call me sentimental, Doug, but I just can't shoot an unarmed woman I recently slept with in the back. Anyway, good going there, nitwit. When goons get away, they tend to multiply."

"She just didn't look like a goon."

Bryce handed one of the guns to Doug. "Get with the times, Doug. Even criminal organizations are getting pressured to meet quotas, and that means there is a high demand for female goons."

"I didn't know that." Doug looked over the pistol. "Aren't these illegal to have when we're not in uniform?"

"That's why you hide it under your coat like so." Bryce put away his gun, and Doug put his in a pocket on the inside of his jacket. "Now grab my stuff..." Bryce pointed to his briefcase and suitcase near the apartment's doorway. "...and let's go meet our dates."

Doug grabbed the bags. "Why are goons after you anyway?"

"Doug, I don't inquire about your personal life, so leave mine alone."

"I just watch TV and play videogames when you're not around."

"And that's your business."

Doug followed Bryce. "And you never did tell me why you trashed your apartment."

"If I explained everything to you, I wouldn't have time to do anything else. Come on, Doug; destiny awaits."

NEXT

Help Save Science Fiction at Jim Baen's Universe!
(NOTE: Frank J.'s hastily hacked together stories are in no way supported or condoned by Baen)

Kevin Drum tries to explain how the New York Times ruining spy programs is actually beneficial to the War on Terror. If I had thought of this argument before him, it would have made a nice absurdist humor piece. Meant seriously, it's a bit pathetic.

This could be a fun mental exercise, though. In the comments, take something disastrous and explain the upside to it.

E.g. "Few people talk about how the Black Plague freed up real-estate leading to cheap homes for the survivors."

and

"If Hillary Clinton is elected President, at least I can sleep in Sundays since I'll know for certain there is no God."

Okay, so the second-richest woman in England is teasing her adoring readers with the possibility that a pair of major characters will croak in the final chapter of the Harry Potter series of books.

"I wrote the final chapter in something like 1990, so I've known exactly how the series is going to end," she told a chat show on Channel 4 television.

"The final chapter is hidden away although it's now changed very slightly. One character got a reprieve. But I have to say two die that I didn't intend to die," Rowling said.

"A price has to be paid, we are dealing with pure evil here. They don't target extras, do they? They go for the main characters -- well, I do."

Asked whether one of the casualties would be Potter himself, Rowling said she had never been tempted to kill off the magician before the finale.

At the same time, she added: "I can completely understand, however, the mentality of an author who thinks, 'Well I'm gonna kill them off because that means there can be no non-author written sequels. So it will end with me and after I'm dead and gone they won't be able to bring back the character'."

Which makes perfect sense if you think about it. Kill the major roles that people would want to profit from and leave the dregs behind for the public to snear at and pass over.

I mean, nobody's clamoring for a series of novels telling the legions of Jar Jar Binks fans what the Gungan pain in the ass was up to between the third and fourth movies. (Unless it's a cookbook... mmmm... Maple Planked Jack Daniels Sauce Gungan!)

So it makes sense that Rowling won't be settling for stuffing Dobby the Elf in a stewpot or laying Crabbe low with a freak rollerskating accident. This one needs to be nailed shut.

So how will Harry Potter die? Well, it depends on who you ask...

With the New York Times publishing about yet another programming in current use to spy on terrorists - thus ruining the program - there has been much debate about press responsibility. The New York Times seemed to dismiss any questions about its integrity and how its reporting might help terrorists while doing little to inform the public. To get their full stance, I, Frank J., was able to get this exclusive statement from the new head of the NYT...

I was thinking: Wouldn't it be funny if Kos had a tail? Same old crazy Kos, but now with a tail. And I bet I know what would happen: he's spend all his time blogging about how his tail was part of the neocon conspiracy to reelect Joe Lieberman and how his tail was evil and always trying to fight against true progressive ideals.

Heh, that crazy Kos; always ranting against his tail.

Um... why are you having us draw straws?

And what's that bottle of pills for?

BEGINNING OF STORY

PREVIOUS (PART 6)

* * * *

"How do you tell if someone is following you and not just heading in the same direction?" Doug entered the apartment building with Bryce. It wasn't in the nicest part of town, but it wasn't in the worst part of town either. He had no idea how Bryce was able to obtain it while it currently belonged to the Proserpine military, but Doug did know that asking him about it would never bring about any answers. Anyway, other things worried him more. "I really don't think you should be tricking those two women into whatever your scheme is this time."

"Just trust me, Doug."

"Why?"

This gave Bryce pause. After a moment, he answered, "Because I saved your life today. You at least owe me a little trust for that."

Bryce had never played the "I saved your life" card before. Then again, all the other times Doug was rescued by Bryce, it was Bryce's fault he needed saving in the first place. "You promise you won't get them killed or something?"

Bryce took a second to answer that. "This is an important plan, Doug. It will mean no more pointless fights and pointless deaths for some whack-job who thinks he or she is a god. The more people I involve with this, the better."

This did make it sound more important than Bryce's usual scheme to earn a few dishonest credits. It certainly seemed he was building to something, as he had been gone more than a week before today's battle - the longest Doug had ever known Bryce to be out on his own. Doug was a little hurt to be that much out of the loop, but he always got the feeling that when Bryce didn't involve him with something, it was best he didn't know about it. Now Doug was actually curious what this was about, especially if it was going to free them from the Empress Proserpine's government as well as those of the other emperors. This was beginning to sound like it might be as important a task as he had dreamed about last night. "So are we going to finally fight the system?"

Bryce struck Doug in the back of his head. "No! Of course not, you idiot. Don't even joke about that. The system is big and was put in place by many powerful people who will kill all who would dare threaten it. You should never even contemplate taking on the system. You only game or play the system - never fight it." He headed up the stairwell. "Enough talk; let's get moving."

Bryce's apartment was on the fifth floor. They stopped in front of it as Bryce inspected the door - especially near the handle. Bryce pointed to one spot near the frame. "A sharp kick here should break the door in."

Doug stared a while at that spot until he noticed Bryce was staring at him. "What?"

"Are you going to kick it or knock it down with the power of your pea-sized brain?"

Doug furrowed his brow. "Don't you have a key?"

Bryce sighed. "I asked you to trust me, but you're still inundating me with dumb questions. Of course I have a key. Now kick the door in."

With one sharp kick, the door broke open. Bryce's apartment wasn't very large, but he had furnished it with a certain sense of style that made Bryce appear more opulent than he was. Or at least it did until Bryce started knocking over tables, smashing decorations, and ripping his paintings.

"Why are you breaking everything?"

Bryce broke a glass coffee table with a chair. "Again with the questions! Are you writing an exposé on me or something?"

"Sorry." Doug looked around. "Can I smash something at least?"

Bryce moved to the kitchen and started knocking plates and glasses out of his cabinets. "No; you might break something I need." Bryce stopped to look out his window. "Oh, and to answer an earlier question, the way you can tell someone is following you is that he will be trying to look like he's not following you."

"But everyone looks like they're not following me."

Bryce grabbed a briefcase near his bed and started filling it with some items from his filing cabinet. "Yes, but there's a difference between how someone looks when they're actually not following you and when they're trying to look like they're not following you.” He knocked over the filing cabinet. “Anyway, there is a pipe under the sink. Go get it."

Doug looked under the sink. "The only pipe I see is connected to the sink."

Bryce took a suitcase out of his closet and knocked over all his hanging clothes. "That's the one; pull it out."

With a little effort, Doug pulled out the pipe causing himself to be sprayed with water. "The water is still on!"

"That it is." Bryce walked to his door carrying his briefcase in one hand and the suitcase in another. "Let's get going to the meeting point. You lead the way."

Doug walked out into the hallway and tried to hand Bryce his pipe.

"No, you keep that; I'll carry the rest."

That was another first for Bryce: him carrying the heavy stuff. Doug didn't look a gift horse in the mouth and led the way back down the stairs. Before they got to the exit, Bryce said, "Hold on a sec." He put down his briefcase and suitcase. "Put the pipe up your sleeve."

Doug stuck the pipe up his right sleeve and curled his hand inwards to hold it in. "What am I doing?"

"Just a simple little errand. What I want you to do is walk out of the apartment, bash any goons you see in the head with that pipe, and then call me when the coast is clear."

"Wha?" was all Doug was able to utter before Bryce had shoved him out the door.

NEXT

Help Save Science Fiction at Jim Baen's Universe!

Due to their decreased circulation, the New York Times is apparently now just focusing on helping terrorists and exposing any spying operation we have against those who wish to kill us. But why? Did the NYT take out insurance policies on all of us? How do we check that?

This is a good opportunity for President Bush to show leadership in the War on Terror and increase his poll numbers. He should say how he vehemently disagrees with the NYT's decision to publish details on spying operations done against terrorists. Then he should bomb the NYT headquarters and kill its leaders. The rest of the NYT staff should be hunted down just like Al Qaeda and sent to Gitmo. People will then say, "Wow; Bush really is serious about protecting us. Look how he killed and captured so many people involved with the New York Times."

At Gitmo, after weeks of intense interrogation, it can then be revealed that Paul Krugman knows absolutely nothing. The same thing can be then determined about Maureen Dowd with a just brief glance at her.

 Since we started the war on terror, we have killed many terrorists. Still, there are many more terrorists out there. And, the terrorists we think we killed with guns or bombs, how can we be sure they are dead? Even if we are sure they're dead, how can we know they won't come back as terrorist zombies? The solution to this is obvious: we need some sort of ray to make their heads explode.

 Such a ray is quite possible to build. There is a thing called "resonance frequency" - this is a real thing I have not made up but heard from very scientifical people. If a resonance frequency of an object is reached, it vibrates and explodes. All that is needed to be done is to find the resonance frequency of terrorist heads. For this, I will need heads to experiment on. Once said frequency is found, building the ray will be easy because I have already drawn the design on a napkin (ironically, that design is so complex that, were you to try and understand it, your head would explode). Why did I use a napkin when perfectly good paper was nearby? Because napkins have a special texture good for bringing out thought. Smart people like me know this.

 Once I have the resonance frequency and millions of government dollars, I will build the head-exploding ray. Then fighting terrorists will be easy. First, we must find them. This is also easy. In a crowded area, yell, "Hey! Terrorists!" Whoever turns to answer must be terrorists. Explode their heads with ray. Soon terrorists will learn that terrorism means an exploded head. Some may still be terrorists thinking they will get 72 virgins when they go to paradise after their heads explode, but we will find the terrorists paradise and explode the virgins heads too! Nowhere is safe from the head-exploding ray!

 You may worry that the head-exploding ray will fall into the wrong hands. I worry about this too, so it will be designed with sensors to tell whether "wrong" or "right" hands are holding it. If it is in the wrong hands, it will emit an annoying buzzing sounds so that the person who has it will be like, "I really want to explode heads for the cause of evil, but that sounds is just too annoying. Foiled once again by the genius of Frank J.!"

 As you see, my plan is perfect. You are probably now worried that my intellect is so great that I can destroy cities with my mind. This is a legitimate worry. A while ago, I thought about New Orleans, and look what happened to it. Luckily, I have a short attention span, so I can't think about anything for too long so as to totally destroy something.

 That reminds me! I have another idea to fight terrorists. As we all know, terrorists shrivel up and die when they come in contact with ham. Thus, I have designs for a device that flings hams - a device I call the ham-flinger. It is so complex, the designs had to be written on toilet paper because even a napkin could not hold such genius. I would like to describe it to you, but the English language is inadequate to properly describe something so complicated as the ham-flinger. I would have to invent my own language to tell you about it, and it would take you the rest of your life to learn the language so I could then tell you about the ham-flinger. So, instead of worrying about how the ham-flinger works, just rest assured that Frank J. is out there building something that flings ham.

Frank J. is a syndicated columnist whose columns appear worldwide on IMAO.us. He is also the author of such books as "Monkeys Bite! - A Guide to Monkeys" and "This Book Is Too Complicated for You to Understand".

I checked, and nothing happened over the weekend. Since there was no news to report, a record number of stories about how cute kittens are was reported on.

So, instead of politics, I'm going to talk about the super-string physics theory.

According to that theory, gravity is a bunch of strings that pull you down. Could you just cut the strings then and fly away? No, because they are super. You'd need a sharp piece of kryptonite to cut them, but I can't get any and I even checked eBay. Superman is strong enough to break them, though, and that's how he flies.

For more about the super-string theory, read a book. Better yet, just Google it.

I think I should write my own unified physics theory. Actually, I'm too busy for that. Is there like an illegal immigrant Mexican physicist I can pay four bucks and hour to solve the greatest mysteries of science for me? Is Stephen Hawking Mexican? Where are his papers?

Science always has so many questions.

There's a rumor going around that the sun is going to explode today. I'm not near a window to see it, so, if it does happen, someone e-mail and tell me.

And, if it does happen, what is Karl Rove trying to distract us from now...

Oh, and whoever is sending me those e-mails about making my penis bigger, could you please stop it. I know you have good intentions, but if the thing were any bigger it would be unwieldy.

That's all. Gotta go check the news and see if anything happened in the past three days. Be honorable yadda yadda yadda.

The IMAO Podcast is still on hiatus, but I have an irresistable urge to finish up the rest of the states in the Fun Facts About The 50 States series, so I'm going to forge ahead - hopefully on a weekly schedule.

Should the podcast return, this is the list from which I'll pick & choose my favorite items to record.

(continued in extended entry)

Any of you looking for me at mountaineer musings will not currently find me. Even though Hosting Matters billed me for the annual renewal of both mountaineermusings.com and sarahk.us, and the bills were charged to my credit card successfully (per their payment processed email), both of my domains have expired. Maybe I'll be up later today, as I'm about to pitch a fit.

UPDATE: I got a little testy with billing (my blog was disappeared, it's hard to be nice), but then I did the smart thing and emailed Stacy, who always gets stuff done. 5 minutes after I emailed her, I was back up. So please, visit me!

(A Filthy Lie)

In a recent Instapundit post, Glenn Reynolds mused thusly:

THE GLENN AND HELEN SHOW has been downloaded over 10 million times now. If we got just a dollar per download....

Which made me wonder... why would Glenn need $10 million?

I think the answer is fairly obvious... (see extended entry)

Andrew of Custos Honor slapped on his bling & his baggy pants and took a white-boy-rap stab at recording my song, "Marines Are For Killin' Terrorists".

Truth be told, this is about a 90% accurate version of how it sounded in my head while I was writing it.

Just needs 10% more disaffected urban youth-itude and a DJ doing scratch in the background.

(Warning - it's not all nice & censored like the text version)

It looks like one of the inhumanely-treated detainees at Kitty Gitmo has finally won release from the Hell On Earth they have been through for the past week:

For the love of God, shake the carrier, please. I want to make sure you aren't pretending the cat's still alive in order to dodge responsibility for its death by torture in your bloody hands.

But wait... what's this...

It's a grill! They're going to cook the kitties! We've been watching the feline equivalent of a lobster tank all this time!

Oh, the humanity!

And they're being forced to live with the guy who played Screech in that Saved By The Bell television series!

When will this nightmare end?

UPDATE:
The following message is on the Meow Mix House webcams:

The Meow Mix House webcams are no longer in operation. But you can still catch all the feline action by watching the latest episodes! Read our cat-testants innermost thoughts in the blogs, visit the picture gallery, and don't forget to vote for your favorite cat to win the viewers' choice award.

Obviously, the Meow Mix Corporation is terrified of having their nefarious and disgusting plans to cook and eat ten innocent, sweet kittycats revealed by yours truly, so they have shut down all public access to the scene of their crimes against felinity.

Free the prisoners of Kitty Gitmo! Close Kitty Gitmo now!

Roger Waters spraypaints the Separation Barrier outside of Bethlehem:

Yes, you are, Roger. Now go sit in David Gilmour's shadow and sulk some more.

(click to enlarge)

To relieve boredom on the tarmac, these Air Force ground crewmen prepare to re-enact the airplane fight scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark.

[Real story available at CENTCOM]

Since it's Friday, I thought I'd spread the joy of humor-free, apolitical Friday Catblogging to IMAO (aka "I-MEOW").

Sure, some of the IMAO bloggers have cats, but we all know that I'm the least-funny of the IMAO bloggers, so I'm the one who's stuck to resorting to cat photos and fart jokes.

Anyway, it's time for Edloe the Grumpus:

If you're not sure how this absurd scene pertains to IMAO, since IMAO is famous for that "political humor" thing, it doesn't. If you must have some semblance of politics or humor in everything you read here, just assume that Edloe is... um...

Help me out here. Make your suggestions in the comments how this scene is, in fact, a political allegory.

You can find more examples of Friday catblogging by searching a blog search engine such as Technorati for "catblogging."

You can also find a roundup of catblogging posts at The Friday Ark, located at The Modulator blog. Then, when the weekend is nearly over, head over to The Carnival of the Cats for more kitty goodness. There's also a Flikr Group called Furry Friday.

Add to that Weekend Catblogging at Eatstuff.

Anybody I miss?

Is there an official name for that "move your head from side to side while wagging your finger back & forth" thing that black women do?

BEGINNING OF STORY

PREVIOUS (PART 5)

* * * *

"So what are you guys planning on spending your gift certificates on?" Bryce had changed out of his uniform into what looked like a brand new suit. The four were standing outside of the military base, and none had said much since the debrief with the General.

"They tried to kill us!" Lulu screamed. She was now wearing a short skirt and a t-shirt with bunnies on it. With her pigtails, she looked more like she just got out of class than came from a battlefield. "I can't believe they tried to kill us! I'm just glad he gave us gift certificates because, after all of that slaughter, I really need to shop." She turned to Charlene. "Can they really do that? Can they just send us out to die? I'm so mad, I'm really thinking of writing someone an angry letter... maybe with swears in it."

Charlene was still expressionless. When she had changed, she'd let her long brown hair out of her pony tail and put on a leather jacket. For a petite, five-foot woman, Doug thought she had a pretty intimidating presence. After a couple seconds, she looked up at Lulu. "We are in no position to question the leadership. If General Daniels has done anything improper in assigning us to that mission, it will be dealt with. It is not our responsibility to make that assessment, though, and the command structure will collapse if we try and take on that responsibility."

Bryce laughed. "Wow. You're a real piece of work there, Charlene. We're not being listened to by the government, so spare us the loyal drone spiel."

Her expression turned fierce. "Before the battle, I remarked that the squad was full of incompetents who deserved death, and I stand by that. I speak only what I believe and nothing else, and I am loyal to our divine Empress."

"It takes a twisted mind to pretend that battle was anything other than a pointless slaughter. Plus, I hate to break it to you, but I recently heard a rumor that Proserpine is an alien." Bryce smiled and looked at Doug. "I think this one might actually be dumber than you."

"Hey!" Doug punched Bryce in the shoulder. "Lay off her!"

Bryce backed away looking surprised. "Okay; calm down." Doug surprised himself. He had barely ever gotten angry at his best friend, but Charlene, despite her outward appearances, seemed a bit sad about something. Doug just couldn't stand watching Bryce treat her the way Bryce usually treated people.

"Let's get to the mall, Charlene," Lulu said. "I'm not as happy about the slaughter as you are, and I need to at least get some new shoes or something."

Bryce grabbed Doug by his jacket collar and whispered, "You need to ask Charlene out before they leave."

Doug turned red. "I dunno. She's just so--"

"Let me see your gift certificate." Doug took it out of his jacket pocket. Bryce quickly snatched it. "Now it's mine."

"Hey! I earned that!"

Bryce put it away in his suit. "You won't get it back until you ask Charlene out. Tell her to meet you at the corner of Geist and Minton at eight for dinner. It will be my treat."

Doug glared at Bryce and then jogged after Charlene who was already walking off with Lulu. "Hey, Charlene."

She turned around. "What?"

Doug couldn't help but sink from her gaze. "I was... uh... just wondering if... uh... you like dinner and... uh..."

"Are you asking me out?" Her expression was one of contempt.

"Well, it's just..."

"I am a great soldier of the divine Empress's army; how dare you ask me out in such a timid manner!"

"I'm sorry." Defeated, Doug turned to walk away.

"And you're retreating!" Charlene grabbed Doug and yanked him back. "You dishonor your uniform. Stand up straight and do that again."

Doug again faced Charlene, who was staring back intensely. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Bryce had split off Lulu and was talking to her. Doug stood at attention, met Charlene's gaze, and said, "I was thinking, that... you know... if you don't have anything better to do..."

"I can barely hear you!"

"It’s just that... uh..."

"Stop stuttering and get to the point!"

"Can I take you out to dinner? You’re pretty!"

Charlene thought about that for a moment, not breaking her gaze with Doug's. "Fine... but just because we're soldiers who fought together. Don't consider it a date. Where are we going?"

"Just meet me at Geist and Minton at eight, and I'll surprise you."

"Okay." Charlene about-faced and called out, "Come on, Lulu." Lulu waved goodbye to Bryce then Doug and walked off with Charlene.

When the women were far enough away, Doug turned to Bryce and pumped his fists in the air. "I did it."

Bryce handed Doug back his gift certificate. "Yeah, I saw. Makes me sorry I made you do that."

"But I like her. So what restaurant is near Geist and Minton?"

Bryce shrugged. "I don't know if there is any. Come on, we need to get some things from my place."

"What? Hey, this isn't part of your new scheme, is it?"

Bryce straightened his tie. "It's not a scheme; it's a plan. And, yes, Lulu and Charlene now factor into it."

"I don't think it's right for you to trick them into whatever it is you're going to do. They've just been through a lot."

"That reminds me: I still don't know who it was we just fought... but I guess I'm just too embarrassed to ask at this point." He headed down the street. "Let's go. Oh, and there's more than a small possibility that some people will be following us who want to do me harm, so keep an eye out."

"Okay." Doug followed Bryce for a few seconds until his brain kicked in. "Wait; what was that last part?"

NEXT

Help Save Science Fiction at Jim Baen's Universe!

Apparently, Kos has some sort of political scandal going on as revealed by The New Republic (WARNING: THIS IS A LINK TO THE DAILY KOS!!!!1!!!!!1!!! Kos mad!). I don't understand what the scandal is about, as even the Puppy Blender's summary involves many many words. Still, we have to ask ourselves: Since we know that Kos is currently plotting to kill us and steal our blood, is it too far-fetched for him to be involved in some scandal of some sort.

It is not far-fetched at all!

I call on Kos to resign from whatever it is he does and apologize for whatever it is he did. That's the only way to restore peace to whatever it is we're trying to protect.

Right Wing News has his list of the 29 Worst People In America (plus 4 honorable mentions).

Matty O'Blackfive has two excellent videos: "Brokeback Zarqawi" and "Lazy Ramadi"

If you like terrorist-killin' songs, you'll probably like TFS Magnum's "Die al-Qaeda" and The Outlaw Republican's "Marines Went Down To Baghdad"

Is Superman Gay?

I never thought twice about it but it seems to be generating a lot of buzz. How can we know that this latest movie version of Superman is gay? Does he change into his tights at Interstate Rest Area Bathrooms? Does he wear a rainbow colored cape? Does the movie end with Lex Luthor in jail and Superman pining: “I wish I could quit you.” ?

This is why you visit IMAO: To get the answers to life’s most pressing questions.

Is Superman Gay?

Top Ten Changes to the Movie That Tell Us Superrman Might Be Gay

10. No rescues performed while Ellen DeGeneres is on.

**

9. New crime-fighting uniform features a pair of leather chaps.

**

8. Fortress of Solitude gets a pink paint job – and a bidet.

**

7. Ends all rescues with the phrase , "That was so fab-ooooo!"

**

6. New weaknesses include kryptonite, lead, and Ryan Seacrest.

**

5, Constantly asking bank robbers: "Is that a gun in your pocket?"

**

4. Runs into burning buildings. Keeps "accidentally" rescuing the firemen.

**

3. Takes all captured criminals to the cop from the Village People

**

2. Superman’s new secret identity: Cher.

**

And the number one change to this movie that tells us Superman just might be gay…

# 1. The new Lois Lane has an Adam's apple.

(A Precision Guided Humor Assignment)

A Marine wrote a song called "Hadji Girl" (video here, lyrics here) that was described as "contrary to the high standards expected of all Marines" by Marine Major Gabrielle Chapin.

Since Marines aren't known for their sensitivity, I have to assume that the objection was that it didn't have enough brutal terrorist-killin'. So to show my support for the Marines, I wrote a sprightly little ditty that's - hopefully - a little less respectful of bloodthirsty Islamofascists.

CONTENT WARNING: contains censored profanity, violent imagery, disrespectful references to terrorist sexual preferences, and other assorted not-very-niceness, so it's in the extended entry...

Sen. Rick Santorum announced that we had found WMDs in Iraq. Some of you may be too young to remember, but a long time ago we were actually looking for those in Iraq and expected to find them. When that (apparently) didn't work out, we then set our sights on constructing in Iraq something even more destructive - democracy!

So, is Santorum right? Did we find what everyone thought we'd find but didn't find and then everybody said it was dumb to think it was there? Well, I know Santorum. I was at his victory party in 2000 where we waited (to no avail) for the Presidential election results to come in, and, at one point, he briefly glanced at me. Knowing him so well, I can say I trust what he says. That means Iraq had WMDs and was a grave threat to America, and liberals are all dumb and wrong to ever oppose our mission.

Dumb and wrong.

That's all I have to say for now.

Announcer #1: Welcome to this year’s coverage of the World Cup.

Announcer #2: I can’t believe what an amazing first round we’ve had.

Announcer #1: I’ll say. In Group Z we had the every single team end their first round in zero to zero ties.

Announcer #2: Who advances to the second round?

Announcer #1: They all do!!

Announcer #2: How exciting.

**

Announcer #1: This is the most exciting thing I’ve seen since that last zero-zero tie.

Announcer #2: Yes, definitely one of the top ten nothing-nothings.

Announcer #1: Speaking of which. I had a very exciting dinner last night.

Announcer #2: What happened?

Announcer #1: Absolutely NOTHING!.

Announcer #2: Wow.

Announcer #1: Let’s take a break for these commercials.

**

Actor: Hey America. Why aren’t you watching? Please watch the World Cup. The World Cup: Because soccer isn’t just for children.

**

Announcer #1: I remember one time I saw a team actually WIN a match.

Announcer #2: You don’t say.

Announcer #1: Yes, of course, the Norwegians beat the Swiss.

Announcer #2: You mean with scoring??”

Announcer #1: Of course not. The Swiss pulled out of the match. They decided they wanted to remain neutral.

Announcer #2: How exciting.

Announcer #1: Yes, my colleagues and I still talk about that one. Oops, time for commercial.

**
Commercial announcer: Try Adidas Tennis Shoes. We make the world’s best soccer shoes. Our new shoe – the Kickarino 200 even has a sensor that alerts you when you’re within 100 feet of the goal!

Goalie Endorsement. Thanks to the Kickarino’s alarm system, I woke up from my nap just in time to watch that kick sail high into the stands. Thanks Kickarino.

Commercial Announcer; The Kickarino 200 – from Adidas. The Shoemaker.

**

Announcer #1: One thing I’ve enjoyed about this tournament is that so many teams have scored Own Goals.

Announcer #2: Yes, very exciting.

Announcer #1: That’s true. I haven’t anybody score that much on themselves since Pee Wee Herman. I can’t wait for this next match to start.

Announcer #2: Yes, it will start in just 3 more hours. Int he meantime, we’ll sit here and discuss strategies and players and all the good stuff people never thought of because they were too busy trying to find beer.

***

Announcer #1: We are now looking down on the field watching the players warm up for the next match. Yes, over on the far end, we see them sprinting. At the near end, we see the goalie is practicing blocking shots.

Announcer #2: My goodness, there’s a player twisting and writhing on the grass. He’s surrounded by the team staff. Are they medical doctors?

Announcer #1: No – acting coaches.

Announcer #2: How exciting.

**

Announcer #1: This just in. Saudi Arabia filed an appeal to the United Nations regarding the bad officiating in the first round.

Announcer #2: What did the United Nations determine?

Announcer #1: They said the Arabs were right. The UN today sanctioned Israel and blamed the bad officiating on a Zionist conspiracy.

Announcer #2: But there isn’t even an Israeli team in the World Cup.

Announcer #1: Yes there is: The United States.

Announcer #2: I suspected, but I wasn’t sure.

**

Announcer #1: News flash. Angola and Tibet have both tied Zero-zero. They both adavance to the second round.

Announcer #2: How exciting!

This should be on a T-Shirt

Carnival #60 Will be at the Acme Anvil Co on Thursday. Steve's already thought of a theme! (Who should buy Mexico)

Get those entries in to here, or here!

Want to host? Email me at Spacemonkey -at- IMAO.US and have me eventually add your name to this schedule.

Upcoming Carnival
#61 Will be at Blogs for House

BEGINNING OF STORY

PREVIOUS (PART 4)

* * * *

While waiting for backup, Doug did his best to make sure the excess peanut butter and jelly sandwiches he and Bryce had didn't go to waste. Both Lulu and Charlene said they weren't hungry, and Doug couldn't blame them, as the battlefield was now filled with odd smells, none of them pleasant.

When someone did come, it was just one troop transport to fly them back to base. Charlene questioned this, and they were told the General would explain. At base, they were marched straight to his office.

General Daniels didn't look in the best of shape. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was a couple days unshaven, and he was probably drunk - or was going to be soon from how he was constantly pouring himself more whiskey. He took a swig from his glass and then looked up from his desk at the four in front of him. "Oh yeah, you guys."

Doug was still standing at attention along with Lulu and Charlene, but Bryce was leaning casually against a wall. "I was expressing concern about how, when we left the battlefield, there were no new forces to relieve us," Charlene said.

The General took another drink. "Yeah... well, to be honest, I didn't prepare for the contingency that we'd actually win."

Doug, as usual, was confused, so he looked at Charlene. She appeared surprised for a moment, but regained herself to her neutral expression as she addressed the General. "I don't understand."

"It's a numbers thing, Murphy." The General finished off his glass and poured another. "Considering what you all went through, I guess the least I can do is explain the decision making behind this mission. The higher-ups like to keep tabs on a number of different stats. They noted that, while all parts of the military are now 50/50 gender-wise, most of the casualties are men, and that perhaps showed some sort of sexism in women's role in our fine military. I was told to fix that." He chuckled. "And, since I can't bring men back to life, my only option was to get women killed to even up the ratio. Thus I made a whole squadron of you ladies and sent you on a suicide mission. The problem was I accidentally put you on it, Murphy, which was an oversight on my part... in my defense, though, I've been drunk the past few days."

Doug tried unsuccessfully to process all that and looked at the others. Charlene could not contain her shock this time. Lulu appeared mortified. Bryce was checking the cleanliness of his nails. Then a thought occurred to Doug. "So why were Bryce and I included in this?"

"I just don't like you two and was thinking, 'Well, as long as I'm killing people off...'" He laughed and took another drink. "Anyway, you all actually winning this battle has put some egg on my face, but that's not your fault. I'll try and get you guys some medals, but until then, I got you some gift certificates for the mall." The General stood up and handed each of them an envelope. "I award you these for your great valor in serving the divine Empress Proserpine yadda yadda yadda." The General plopped back into his seat and poured whiskey into a couple more glasses. He sipped at one for a bit while the others stared blankly at their gift certificates - except for Bryce, who quickly pocketed his after checking its value. After a few seconds of silence, the General looked up at the four again. "Still here? You all standing there is really starting to annoy me. Either leave, snap and kill me, or have a glass of whiskey."

Doug felt like getting out of there. Charlene appeared ready to cry. Lulu was just shaking and seemed to be mumbling something. Bryce, on the other hand, stepped forward. "Guess I'll have some whiskey, then." He picked up a glass. "Out of curiosity, how did you pick those women to die? Did you base it on competency or attractiveness?"

"I wussed out of picking anyone and had a list randomly generated... except for adding you and that dummy who's always following you around." The General motioned to Doug.

"Hmm." Bryce took a sip and instantly had a look of disgust. "This whiskey is horrid."

The General took a big drink. "By the time you get to my rank, you get used to it."

Charlene suddenly bolted out of the room. Doug started to go after her but realized he had no idea what to say to her. The General slumped down into his chair. "Hell, I was sure she'd kill me. Now I have to make plans for the evening." He finished his glass. "I'll never understand women."

NEXT

Help Save Science Fiction at Jim Baen's Universe!

"Here is our current military problem," Rumsfeld told President Bush as he put a slide on screen. It was a picture of smiling faces of many different races and cultures. "Foreigners! And the solution is: Kill all foreigners."

"I'm afraid you're stuck in a rut, Rummy," Bush said. "So I'm bringing in some fresh ideas."

"Rarr!" Rumsfeld yelled. "How dare you!"

"Calm down. I just want everyone to be on board in fighting the terrorists, so I thought I'd bring in a Democrat to help with planning as co-Secretary of Defense. It was easy to pick, since there is only one Democrat actually laying out a plan."

There was a pounding on the door to the conference room. "The door won't open!" a voice shouted.

"Did you try the handle?" Bush suggested.

"The what?"

"Sheesh." Bush walked over and opened the door. In walked Murtha clad in pajamas and slippers.

"Where am I?"

"You're in a conference room at the White House to help with military strategery," Bush explained slowly.

"Can I just go ahead and strangle him now?" Rumsfeld asked.

"No. Let's first hear what he has to say."

Murtha walked over to a map of the world on the wall. "We need to get out of Iraq! It's dangerous. We need to get our troops elsewhere."

"But where?" Bush asked.

Murtha looked over the map. "Well... uh... I don't see it on here on the map... but we should redeploy to the moon!"

"Can I strangle him now?"

"No, Rummy!" Bush shouted.

"The moon is perfect," Murtha continued. "We can just as easily fight terrorism from there. It's up high, so we can see everything. When we need to strike somewhere, we can just jump and we'll fall right towards it."

"Brilliant!" Bush exclaimed. He then thought for a moment and his enthusiasm faded. "Hey, but what if someone nukes the moon?"

"We'll cover the moon with a Plexiglas shield," Murtha said. "Plexiglas is strong."

"Brilliant!"

Rumsfeld sat down. "Just tell me when it's okay for me to strangle him."

"The only problem with the moon," Murtha explained, "is that it may contain a race of angry mole-people."

Bush shivered. "Oh no! Not mole-people!"

"If that's true, then we'll have to redeploy elsewhere."

"But where?"

Murtha looked over the map and then pointed to one area. "What's this place called?"

"The Pacific Ocean," Rumsfeld answered as he tensed his hands for a strangling.

"Are we going under the sea?" Bush asked.

"No, there are giant squids down there," Murtha said. "We'll make a base that floats. Now, what floats?"

"Dead bodies," Rumsfeld answered.

"Very small rocks?" Bush said.

"Styrofoam peanuts," Murtha stated. "I have a lot at my house and we can make a base out of them. Now I just need to sit down for a second." Murtha took a seat and immediately fell asleep.

Rumsfeld stood up. "I guess it's time to strangle him."

"You can't strangle him while he's sleeping; he's a veteran."

Rumsfeld thought for a moment. "How about I just throw him in the Potomac?"

"Okay."

You have questions. Dr. Duck has answers. That's the way things work around here.

Sure, IMAO has had more suicide attempts than Guantanamo Bay. Sure, we'd make a cheap laugh at your expense (Note: Please visit cafe press and buy our new Laughing at Your Expense T-shirt. It's expensive - but that's the point.)

However, I can honestly say, that reading this blog is much more interesting that watching the latest zero-zero tie at the World Cup.

Every once in a while, a glimmer of hope arises and Dr. Duck emerges to answer the questions that keep you up at night. So go ahead and ask Dr. Duck what you need to know. Politics. Romance. Auto Mechanics. Electronics. 18th Century Middle Eastern Art.

Dr. Duck cares.

Disclaimer. Dr. Duck doesn't give damn. Disclaimer to the disclaimer. Dr. Duck cares. Don't listen to the dislaimer. Original disclaimer: Don't tell me what I feel. How dare you invalidate my feelings. Disclaimer to the disclaimer: I'm not invalidating your feelings. I was only saying that it's rude to tell people you don't care. Original disclaimer: But what If I don't. What if I'm so busy with life, a job that's disappearing, and a full load at school. What then? Disclaimer to the disclaimer: Who cares what you feel? Make with the funny. Original disclaimer: Who do you think you are? Frank J? You can't boss me around! You're not the boss of me! Disclaimer to the Disclaimer. I wasn't bossing you around. I just mentioned that maybe saying you don't give a damn isn't a nice thing to say. What do you think? Original Disclaimer: I don't give a damn.

Answers will post on Friday.

For all the money Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban wasted in fines after various outbursts during the NBA Playoffs, he's come up with a new blog-friendly, Web 2.0 strategy to ensure victory against whatever team he's facing...

One of the few things that ever got me to swear at my own readers... and I have a long fuse.

UPDATE: Maybe some people aren't understanding. What makes me uncontrollably angry is someone correcting a typo and then explaining to me like I'm a four year old when is the proper to use "its" versus "it's". I had some readers do that a couple years back - and were very well-meaning and polite - and I could not help but rip into them. I've yet to have one troll make me angry, but that...

DarkSyde at the DailyKos is trying to find a short, unifying slogan for the Kwazy Kos Kids. He has his suggestions, but here are mine:

* I'm Running Out of Tin-Foil!
* Karl Rove Stole My Weed!
* Stop Laughing at Me!
* "Don't Eat Paint Chips" Is One of Bush's Lies!
* You Say "Angry" Isn't a Platform? YOU SHUT UP!!!
* You're Either With Us, Or I'm Going to Bite You
* No, You're Mentally Retarded and Probably Insane!
* Bush Lied, I Soiled Myself and Cried
* I Don't Want the Pills! Don't Make Me Take the Pills!
* Aw Tawt Aw Taw a Putty Tat!
* Why Do You Care If I Forgot to Wear Pants When There Is an Illegal War Going On?
* YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

Come on! Help out the Kos Kids in their slogan search in the comments.

Q: Since the MPAA has some kind of problem with films that mention Jesus repeatedly these days, harshly rating otherwise G-rated films for strong Christian content, would 1973's Jesus Christ: Superstar still be rated G today?

Has anyone on the left mentioned John Murtha's remarks about Somalia and Okinawa on Meet the Press? I checked Technorati, but it seem the left has ignored his interview except for maybe a, "Heh. He said Karl Rove has a big butt," comment.

If you have a link, please put it in the comments. I'm quite curious if there's a rational argument out there that Murtha is not bat-@#$% insane.

But this better work this time, or we could just encourage the poofy-haired to unleash more poofy-haired threats.

But shooting down North Korea's test missiles would be so cool. If it happens, Bush should immediately hold a press conference which should consist solely of a Nelsonian, "Haw haw!"

Q: Which door hit Dan Rather in the ass as he left CBS?

Christine Rosen, on the other hand, is just dumb.

Everyone has heard from Murtha's interview on Meet the Press about how our failure in Somalia is a model to follow and that operation in the Middle East can be conducted from Okinawa, but did you hear the other military advice he had?

MORE MILITARY ADVICE FROM REPRESENTATIVE JOHN MURTHA

* "Chimpanzees can be trained to use a rifle just as easily as a man. The smart thing to do is to send armed chimps into urban combat zones."

* "Decision shouldn't be made by people in air conditioned rooms sitting on their large behinds, because AC destroys brain cells. I once got my head stuck in an AC unit, and I haven't been the same since."

* "President Coolidge's failure against the Ewoks demonstrated that it is too difficult to take on an entrenched enemy, even if we have a weapon capable of destroying planets."

* "Zarqawi could have been captured just as easily by conducting operations outside of Iraq... or maybe even underwater if our foreign policy hasn't ruined our relations with Aquaman."

* "Combat should be done by our robots. And don't tell me we don't have robots, because I just saw one this morning and it stole and ate my pills for fuel."

* "It's foolish to think that running from Iraq means we're abandoning it. Wherever we run to, we'll eventually have to run from there, too... and then we'll run from there. Eventually, we'll run right back to Iraq when it's less scary than whatever is outside it."

* "We also need to get our troops out of Wisconsin. I was there recently, and I saw some teenagers that scared me. Something is going to erupt there soon, and we don't want to be caught in the middle of it."

BEGINNING OF STORY

PREVIOUS (PART 3)

* * * *

Doug soon caught up with Lulu and Charlene and matched their pace as they ran for the battle-mech. "Uh... so what exactly are we doing?"

Charlene kept focused on the figures ahead. "I'm going to climb that mech and you two will cover me. I know where the emergency release for the cockpit is, so I should be able to take out the pilot. When the mech is under my control, just stay back."

Doug ran that over in his mind. "So just shoot at whoever is shooting at you, right?"

"That would be the definition of cover fire. I'm not going to be able to defend myself as I'm climbing the mech."

Keeping someone from getting shot seemed a bigger responsibility than Doug was ready for. He hoped Lulu had a better idea of what to do, but she was shaking and wide-eyed, looking ready to bolt any second. The numerous bodies they had to step over on their way weren't encouraging, either.

Charlene brought her rifle up. "They see us." She fired, and a few soldiers ahead fell to the ground.

There was a huge eruption of gunfire in response. Lulu shrieked and dived for cover behind an overturned truck. Doug stuck with Charlene and fired, though he wasn't quite sure at what. The mech then pivoted to face them, its giant guns now pointed in their direction.

"We'll only be safe from its weapons when we're directly below it," Charlene called out and shot off some more rounds.

Doug nodded and then saw the ground explode all around him as the mech fired. He ran even quicker now, not bothering to fire as he couldn't see or hear anything other than the explosions. When he could see something again, it was the mech looming over him.

Charlene pulled him out of the way of the mech's foot. "Cover fire!" She slung her rifle over her shoulder and started to climb the mech. Bullets were ricocheting off the mech's legs from all directions, and Doug fired as often as he could as he kept ducking both the return fire and the mech's moving feet. His rifle clicked empty, and Doug quickly pulled out another magazine as he accidentally bumped into the mech's foot and fell over. He saw three soldiers running towards him. Doug kept trying to put another magazine into his rifle, then realized he was doing it backwards. Just as the soldier got a bead on him, a burst of gunfire dropped the three.

Doug saw a large metal foot coming down. He rolled out of the way and finally reloaded his gun. He wondered where the saving shots came from, but then remembered Charlene. He looked up for her, and then had to dodge a falling body. The mech began firing again, but this time at the enemy soldiers. "Die!" Charlene's voice echoed out of the mech's speakers.

Doug ran back for safety, taking glances at the mech that now chased the enemy. A hand grabbed him and sent him to the ground. Above him was Bryce. He and Lulu were apparently now both hiding behind the overturned truck, and Bryce looked angry. "You almost ruined my plans getting killed out there! The arrangement has always been that I plot and you carry things, so let's not repeat this."

"Hey! You saved me, didn't you?"

Bryce helped Doug to his feet. "Just feel lucky I realized that, with the current timetable for said plans, there wasn't enough time to find a replacement for you."

"What plans?" Lulu asked.

Bryce looked taken aback by the question. Doug had long ago stopped asking about Bryce’s schemes because he never gave a straight answer. Bryce looked Lulu over and then something seemed to click in his mind. "I'll explain them soon enough. This will change our lives, and you're quite crucial to it... uh..."

"Lulu. Am I going to have to carry stuff?"

"Of course not. That's Doug's job… and you're going to be in charge."

Lulu's eyes brightened. "Ooh! Sounds fun!"

Doug looked out towards the mech and its carnage. "Do we need to help Charlene?"

There were many explosions and screams in the distance. "I think she has it under control," Bryce said.

Lulu looked out from behind the truck. "No fair! They get to retreat."

Bryce walked out from cover. "Life isn't fair."

The three then watched for a while as the battle-mech chased the enemy over the horizon and cries of "Die, cowards, die!" echoed out of its speakers. Soon Bryce set down the blanket again and went back to eating lunch.

NEXT

Help Save Science Fiction at Jim Baen's Universe!

Excellent news! The prisoners of Meow Mix House (aka "Kitty Gitmo") are resisting their captors!

"Hand over the keys, human!"

"Let me out of here! Call the Red Cross!"

The horror... the horror...

The prognosis is not looking good for Jim Baen. Here's a good description of Baen's contribution to science fiction I found linked by Glenn Reynolds.

Please keep Jim Baen and his family in your prayers.

As anyone who pays attention knows, the Democrats are embroiled in a "Culture of Crazy." With Democrats assaulting police officers, saying we can conduct Middle East affairs out of Okinawa, hiding money in their freezers, and sucking up to the biggest loons on the internet, it is obvious they are waist deep in craziness. Is there any doubt in anyone's mind that Howard Dean would bite you if you looked at him wrong? Of course not.

Can the Democrats get out of this mire of insanity? I'm doubtful. As we speak, Kos is either plotting against Democrats he thinks are not faithful to his lunacy or eating his own excrement. After that, the Democrat leadership will then try to court him for his approval. Why? Because the Democrats are so far into crazy they don't know the way out. I hear they are thinking of moving their headquarters to Okinawa to more quickly respond to issues in the U.S.

Remember: Urge everyone to not vote Democrat; it's the only way to stop their Culture of Crazy. Losing will probably make them crazier, though, so make sure to keep an eye on any Democrats you see and to keep your children away from them. There's no telling what a Democrat may say or do if left unchecked, but it's quite certain it will be crazy!

What's the worst part about flying from Orlando to Boise to visit my parents?

Back when I was in college in Pittsburgh, I helped a Republican (Timothy Holloway) campaign against Murtha in 1998. It was at the urging of my roommate who actually lived in Murtha's district (at the time he got a letter published in a local paper about how Murtha wasn't really a friend to the military). I went door to door campaigning for Holloway one day with some other college Republicans... except, when we split into groups, I ended up paired with Holloway himself so there wasn't much reason for me to say anything. Holloway only got a bit over 30% of the vote, though... well, that's why they set up the districts the way they do.

Now Murtha's opponent this year, Diana Irey, is getting a lot of national attention since everyone (not just me and my roommate who's now in the Navy) knows Murtha is a kook and not a friend of the military. Irey should get a lot more money than Holloway did and districts in Pennsylvania are different than they were back in '98, so maybe she has a chance. And, if Murtha is defeated this year, remember it was only because your friend Frank J. helped weaken him.

After not posting anything since January, Bill Whittle posted on Friday and then again yesterday. That's a post extravaganza for him.

That reminds me: I need to get my book out. I want all your money so bad I can almost taste it...

Connie Chung sung Thanks For The Memories to finish off the slow-motion trainwreck that was her weekend show with shlock-peddler husband Maury Povich on one of NBC's ramshackle cable outlets.

A long time ago when she was booted from CBS, I came up with this tune:

Goodbye Connie Chung
Even though I never watched you at all
You had the nerve to promote yourself
While Dave on Late Night drooled
They brought you to the network
And they whispered into your ear
They put you on the prompter
And they made you keep your name

And it seemed to me you lived your life
Like an anchor in the wind
Never knowing who to work for
When the ratings came in
And I would have liked to watch you
But I was just sickened
Your paychecks ran out long before
Your contract ever did

If you're really bad, I'll record it tonight and post it.

PREVIOUS

"Do you need help, Charlene?"

The enemy soldier Charlene was wrestling with definitely had a size advantage on the small Charlene. She didn't look scared, though. "This is my kill!" she yelled back at Doug.

"Well, once you're done, we have spare sandwiches."

Charlene elbowed the soldier in the head and wrested the knife free. "Don't distract me!" Doug turned his eyes and covered his ears as the fight came to an end. He looked back to see Charlene standing over the dead body as she cleaned off the knife. "What are you two doing back here?"

"Special Ops." Bryce eyed the dead body with a look of disgust. "Could you move that? We're eating."

Charlene appeared ready to use her knife again. "How can you hide back here? Don't you know we're getting slaughtered out there?"

Bryce wiped his mouth with a napkin. "If you parse what you just said, you'll notice the second part is a good answer to the first part."

Another soldier jumped into the ditch. It was who Doug recognized her as Charlene's friend Lulu. "There you are!" Lulu said to Charlene. "I was looking for you! Everyone is getting killed so I wanted to stay near you since you seem to know what you're doing." She straightened her pigtails as she looked around the ditch. "We have sandwiches?"

Charlene ignored her and looked out from the ditch. "It's gotten quiet."

This seemed to make Charlene and Lulu look quite worried, so Doug offered in a hopeful voice, "Maybe we won."

For a small woman, Charlene hit hard. After smacking Doug, she looked at Lulu. "Try and find where the rest of our forces are."

Lulu spoke into her radio. "Hey, it's Lulu; how is everyone doing? ...Hello? ...Hello?" Lulu looked at Charlene. "Um... do you think we're all that's left?"

"I'm afraid so."

They were quiet for a moment, but Bryce broke the silence. "Well, this sucks. Luckily, I have my jogging shoes on. Who's up for a tactical retreat?"

Doug wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. "How far are we going to have to run?"

Charlene grabbed Doug and put her knife to his face. "You run, and you'll be executed for cowardice!"

Bryce pulled Charlene's hand off of Doug. "How about we retreat, but we don't tell anyone about it."

Lulu gave a worried glance to the enemy forces. "I like that idea."

Charlene frowned as she sheathed her knife. "Are you suggesting we go AWOL?"

Bryce began to pack up the picnic. "I'm not sure what the technical term is for it, but I think we should just call it the 'not getting killed' option."

Doug, as usual, was confused. "Will we get in trouble for being AWOL?"

Lulu sat low in the ditch and started rocking back and forth. "I really hate this war stuff. I just want to get out of this and get that job as an administrative assistant. These uniforms aren't flattering at all and the boots we have to wear are ugly. Plus, there's two much violence and yelling and... Ow!"

After yanking one of Lulu's pigtails, Charlene addressed the three. "I already checked, and no backup is coming. This fight is up to us. We may be outnumbered, but if we can take control of their battle-mech, we could turn the tide. It won't be easy, but remember that we fight for the divine honor of Empress Proserpine and to avenge the death of our comrades!"

Lulu was still rubbing her head. "But you never liked your comrades, and they really hated you."

Charlene stood up. "It's the principle, Lulu. Now, I'll need some ammo. I used up all of mine killing the enemy."

Lulu looked at her gun. "I only have one of the bullet container thingees--"

"Magazines."

"--magazines left."

"I have plenty of ammo I'm not using!" Doug said, glad to be helpful. He looked through his sack. "Where is it?"

"I have it." Bryce opened his sack and took out some magazines and handed them to Charlene and Lulu. "I always unload Doug's gun and take his ammo before each battle for his own safety and the safety of others."

Charlene put a magazine into her rifle and chambered a round. "Is there any point in asking if you two cowards will help?"

Bryce picked up his pack and rifle. "No, not much point in asking. You two have fun, and we'll look for how you did in the obituaries tomorrow."

Charlene sneered at them and then climbed out of the ditch. Lulu started to follow but stopped for a moment to look towards Bryce and Doug. "Could you guys wait a minute back here, because, if Charlene gets killed, I'm going to do that AWOL thing with you two."

"Sure thing," Bryce said. Lulu then headed out of the ditch with a slight whimper. When she was out of sight, Bryce turned to Doug. "Okay, let's get running."

Doug picked up his gun and watched the two women running off towards the twenty-five-foot robot in the distance. "They're going to get killed! We have to help!"

Bryce shook his head. "No, Doug. Proper logic would go this way: They're going to get killed, so we need to be as far away from them as possible."

Doug began to climb out of the ditch. "Everyone else got killed while we sat here eating sandwiches; I'm not sitting by while anyone else dies."

"We're not going to be sitting! We're going to be running! Doug, this whole battle is pointless! Also, I really do have some big plans I'm working on, and it would be quite useful to have you not dead for them. This plan might involve heavy things that need carrying, and you know I'm not going to do that... And didn't the guy in your crazy dream say to stay alive so you could fight aliens or something?"

Doug held his rifle at the ready and prepared to run after Charlene and Lulu. "That was a dream; this is real. It's time for me to be useful now." Doug began to head towards the enemy.

"Doug!"

"What, Bryce?"

Bryce threw Doug some magazines. "You might need some ammo."

Doug missed them and quickly picked them up off the ground, putting one in his rifle. "Thanks, Bryce." He started his run again.

"Doug!"

"What?"

"Chamber a round."

Doug looked down at his rifle. "Oh yeah."

Bryce sunk back into the safety of the ditch. "Idiot."

NEXT

Help Save Science Fiction at Jim Baen's Universe!

With all of the panicked shrieking about Hurricane Season in the media, down here in Houston we don't need any stinking named storms to cripple the city's infrastructure. Dump ten inches of rain on the place during your morning commute, and you've got the makings for a boatload of fun... without the boat!

With all that in mind, we should look at this "rain" thing more closely to see the true nature of this flash flood of threats this phenomenon presents...

FUN FACTS ABOUT RAIN

 If you've paid attention to the news, you may have noticed that there are two Koreas. Odd, but true. One China, one Japan, but two completely separate Koreas. Did they both accidentally name themselves Korea without hearing about the other? Unlikely, since these two different Koreas are right next to each other. So are they completely alike? No. Despite one huge similarity - being full of Koreans - they are quite different, and, if I had to choose just one to keep, I'd pick the southernmost Korea.

 The southernmost Korea is very nice. In fact, they're our friends. They let us keep military bases there, which is very nice since, having a Marine brother, I know firsthand how drunken and disorderly U.S. troops tend to be (can I get an "Ooh-rah!"). Also, they have their own electronic companies to compete against the greedy Japanese (greedy like us; that's why they're our friends too). The southernmost Korea also made my Hyundai Santa Fe which is a very nice mid-size SUV that was cheap and came with a ten year bumper-to-bumper warranty. Finally, it’s the Koreas in the south who animate The Simpsons. Though The Simpsons aren't as good as they used to be, the animation has only gotten even better.

 The Koreans to the north are not very nice, though. They make no electronics, no cars, and animate no shows. The only thing they export is threats of nuclear death, which is not very nice at all. Their leader is a pudgy man with poofy hair - poofy hair being the universal symbol of tyranny. Sometime, I wish those Koreas to the north would just die - and many do because they are starving. I hate starving people. Starving people are impossible to talk to while eating you're eating a bag of chips because they're always like, "Could I please have some of your chips? I am so hungry!" You try and change the subject, but they won't let up on asking for your chips. Those are my chips; I bought them! Get away from me, you hungry Korean!

 You may say, "You make the Korea to the south sound so good and the one to the north sound so bad as to make it obvious which one I should like more, but isn't it true that the Korea to the south supports slavery." Well, you are mistaken. You are mixing up the southernmost Korea with the South from the American Civil War. What I do hear about southern Korea that is bad is that they eat dogs. That is wrong. Dog are not for eating; dogs are for hugging and biting bad people - bad people who eat dogs, perhaps. Then again, the Korea to the north will eat not just dogs but anything at all because they are so hungry. I hate hungry people! Another thing you may have heard about the southernmost Korea is they are a democracy, and I know you can name all the things wrong with democracy. But the Korea to the north is Communist, and Communism is nothing but one big wrong. For the leaders of the Korea in the north to pick Communism was just as dumb and bad as to pick having a poofy hairstyle.

 Now, if someone asks you which Korea you like better, you can say you like the southernmost one and give informed reasons as why. If they person you are talking to keeps arguing that the other is better, though, just tell him, "The northernmost Korea killed my father." That will shut him up. It may be a lie, but the important thing is you'll win the argument.

Frank J. is a syndicated columnist whose columns appear worldwide on IMAO.us. He is also the author of such books as "North Is Up: A Frank Guide to Geography" and "A Tree Killed My Father: Why I'm Against Saving the Environment".

Rep. Murtha was on Meet the Press Sunday. I missed it since I was in Church (it was all about Jesus again), but apparently he thinks Clinton's surrender in Somalia (you know, the one the terrorists are always citing as how American can be defeated) is the model to follow, and we should move our bases of operation in the Middle East to Okinawa. No, not Okinawa, Qatar; Okinawa, Japan. I'm not very good with geography, but I don't think Okinawa is very close to the Middle East. Yes, it's closer to the Middle East than the moon, but we probably need a better response time than what Okinawa would allow for incidents in the Middle East.

Everyone is now making fun of poor old Murtha, but that is wrong. Instead, we should find a nice old folks home for Murtha where he can spend the remainder of his days playing checkers with other old people. Maybe some old broken cameras can be set up there so he can talk to them about his military ideas about moving all our military operations to a base in the North Pole. The other old folks may yell at him, but I think it's the best we can do for this old, crazy Marine.

In some polls, Bush is back into the forties in his approval rating. So who here started liking him again and why? I started liking him again because he sent me a fruit basket. It was delivered by an illegal alien, but, still, it was a fruit basket and that was very thoughtful of him.

The IMAO Podcast is still on hiatus, but I have an irresistable urge to finish up the rest of the states in the Fun Facts About The 50 States series, so I'm going to forge ahead - hopefully on a weekly schedule.

Should the podcast return, this is the list from which I'll pick & choose my favorite items to record.

See extended entry for whole thing...

Belle was the first cat from Meow Mix House to be voted off.

Belle didn't even blog about getting voted off or getting adopted, either. What a poor sport!

No wonder why Belle lost.

Anyway, it looks like someone coughed up a hairball on the stairs...

Oh. Wait. That's Jo.

Never mind.

Man, I want to write something funny, but my head hurts. And it's Friday. I don't always write on Friday. And it's especially hard to write on Friday when your head hurts.

You hear about the vote to surrender in the Senate went down 93-6, with Kerry one of the six voting for surrender? That's kinda funny. Did you know Kerry served in Vietnam? We lost that war. I don't know if that was Kerry's fault, but I sure don't know it wasn't. Now he wants to lose us another war. I think I'll question his patriotism.

I wonder if Kerry really is patriotic?

There, his patriotism was questioned and it can't be taken back. You may say, "Hey! You can't question his patriotism! It's not like you served in Vietnam." No, I didn't serve in Vietnam, but I was served in a Vietnamese restaurant. The noodles there were odd. But I ate it all. When I go to a Vietnamese restaurant, I'll see it through to the end. Can Kerry say the same? He can't even finish a Philly cheese steak.

Where was I? Oh yeah, the vote to surrender. You may say a vote to pull out troops by the end of the year isn't a vote to surrender. To that, I say, go to a mirror so you can see your dumb monkey face and punch it. If we pull out of Iraq suddenly, we're surrendering... just like in ‘nam. We'll have a reputation like France, no one will fear us, and we won't be able to win anything. I want my children to be in wars they can win. Don't you?

Well, my head still hurts. I thought it was a coffee headache, but I've had plenty of coffee. Anyway, so if I'm not funny, it's because of my head... and it's a Friday. If you're not funny, that's just because you're you.

Later, sportsfans.

PREVIOUS

"Bryce, I had a weird dream last night."

"Is that so, Doug?" Bryce opened his pack and dug through it.

"I was in this room, and it started filling with water. In the water were fish... and they bit my feet. And then I was one of the fish."

"I guess that's weird." Bryce took out a sheet and laid it down in the ditch he and Doug were in.

"But I had another dream before that. I was hanging upside down, and this guy Stan said that the Emperors and some others are aliens called the Fallen and I have to send them back to a prison in some other dimension just like this guy named Jesus did who died penniless and friendless."

Bryce stared at Doug for a moment. "Did you bring the chips?"

Doug took a pouch of sandwiches out of his pack. "I thought I was bringing the sandwiches this time."

"No!" Bryce shouted, his outburst emphasized by an explosion nearby that tossed dirt on them. "Now we have too many sandwiches and no chips. I was counting on you, Doug!"

"I know. I'm sorry."

Bryce took out his pouch of sandwiches. "Well, it could have been worse; we could have too many chips and no sandwiches. You at least have the coffee, right?"

Doug took out the thermos. "Of course." Doug glanced out of the ditch to see a large robot with guns for arms walking by. "Is that theirs or ours?"

"I dunno; I didn't pay attention at the briefing. I don't even know what nation we're fighting today." Bryce took a bite out of a sandwich.

Among all the explosions, Doug could hear a number of screams. "Do you think we should help?"

Bryce poured some coffee. "Someone has to take up flank positions, and I think we're best suited for that."

"Well, Stan told me I need to be careful not to get killed since he needs me to fight the Fallen."

Bryce moved his rifle so he could lie back more comfortably in the ditch. "Not getting killed is a good idea. I actually have a plan - a great plan - where the prerequisite is we don't get killed today."

"What plan?"

"A big one. We'll finally get out of these pointless battles and onto our path to power and fortune."

Bryce always had plans like that. So far, none had worked, but each new one seemed closer to working... and closer to getting them imprisoned or killed.

A woman screamed nearby.

Doug started to get up. "I think we should help."

Bryce grabbed Doug and pulled him back down into the ditch. "Helping is how you get killed. And how do you even know that wasn't one of their soldiers? Listen to that Stan guy and stay here and eat your sandwiches."

After a little hesitation, Doug picked up a sandwich. "Stan told me he is God."

Bryce sighed. "Everyone says they're God these days. There's no God, Doug. If there were, everything wouldn't be so pointless."

"Aren't we supposed to believe our Empress is God?"

Bryce finished chewing a bite from his sandwich. "We're supposed to pretend to believe. I don't think anyone actually believes that. A real god would be someone who created the whole universe and everything, and none of the idiots in charge of these stupid warring nations could have done that."

"Then who did?" Doug asked with a full mouth.

"Probably no one." There was another explosion near then, pelting them with dirt and rocks. "That is getting annoying."

"Stan says that the Emperors and others like them can't be killed... not even if you shot them in the face."

"If that's true, why aren't they out here fighting?" Bryce took a sip of coffee. "I, for one, am quite concerned about projectiles to the face. So, this Stan guy you dreamed about, he wanted you to take on these invulnerable aliens."

"He said I'm special."

A few bullets whistled overhead. "Hadn't heard that used as a synonym for 'retarded' in some time."

"Do you know what The Great War was about, Bryce?"

"Land, power, slights real and imagined... same as any other war." There was another nearby explosion, and Bryce pulled his rifle closer. "This new inquisitive Doug is getting kind of annoying. Can't we just eat our sandwiches in peace and quiet like every other battle we've been in? I really do have a great new venture for us once this is over, so I'm quite keen on the 'not getting killed.' Sitting quietly behind the fray seems to have always worked well to that end, so let's stick to it."

"Okay." Doug took another bite of his sandwich but found it hard to ignore the screams of what could be his fellow comrades. He peeked out of the safety of their ditch once again. It was hard to see through the smoke and the dirt being thrown in the air, though. The large robot was busy shooting at something that was luckily nowhere near them. "I wonder how our side is doing."

"If you're really curious, turn on your radio. I find the things annoying, though."

Doug turned on his radio to hear a bunch of screams. He turned it off. "Did you notice how the squad this time is all women... except for us?"

Bryce smirked. "I more than noticed; I took advantage of the situation."

"I wonder why that is."

"I don't. The government always has some stupid reason for everything." He then smiled at Doug. "So, is there one you have your eye on?"

"I like Charlene."

Bryce dropped his sandwich. "That psycho!?"

"I think she's nice... in her own way. And she's cute."

"That's kind of hard to notice since she's always covered in someone else's blood."

Doug frowned. "Hey, you asked. I like her."

"Die, bitch!" someone screamed as two people fell into the ditch. It was Charlene struggling with an enemy soldier over a knife.

"Speaking of the devil." Bryce pulled the sandwiches to safety and nudged Doug. "Here's your chance; ask her out."

NEXT

Help Save Science Fiction at Jim Baen's Universe!

Jim Baen of Baen Publishing has suffered a stroke. Please, keep him in your prayers.

I don't know him very well except for a few encounters on the internet (he once chatted with my writing group via AIM giving us advice), but he seem like a great guy. It's through his work that many authors had a chance to be published who never would have, and I've certainly found encouragement from him myself. He's an icon in the world of SF, and the publishing world would be a much worse place without him.

UPDATE: I was told to let you know that Jim had express, and highly detailed contingency plans, both personal and business, in place, and both Baen Publishing Enterprises LLC and Jim Baen's Universe magazine are operating normally under those contingency plans.

Basically, business is as normal with publishing and with the new magazine (if this news made any of you hesitant about subscribing). Still, things won't be the same without him.

Since it's Friday, I thought I'd spread the joy of humor-free, apolitical Friday Catblogging to IMAO (aka "I-MEOW").

Sure, some of the IMAO bloggers have cats, but we all know that I'm the least-funny of the IMAO bloggers, so I'm the one who's stuck to resorting to cat photos and fart jokes.

Anyway, it's time for Piper and Nardo:

If you're not sure how this absurd scene pertains to IMAO, since IMAO is famous for that "political humor" thing, it doesn't. If you must have some semblance of politics or humor in everything you read here, just assume that Piper and Nardo are... um...

Help me out here. Make your suggestions in the comments how this scene is, in fact, a political allegory.

You can find more examples of Friday catblogging by searching a blog search engine such as Technorati for "catblogging."

You can also find a roundup of catblogging posts at The Friday Ark, located at The Modulator blog. Then, when the weekend is nearly over, head over to The Carnival of the Cats for more kitty goodness. There's also a Flikr Group called Furry Friday.

Add to that Weekend Catblogging at Eatstuff.

Anybody I miss?

"Do you know who Jesus is, Doug?"

It was hard for Doug to think while hanging upside down with his hands quite uncomfortably bound behind his back, but he was pretty sure he'd never met a Jesus. "No, I don't think I know him."

His questioner smiled, and it still looked like a smile even upside down. "You wouldn't know him personally. I was just wondering if you knew of him."

"No, I don't. Uh... who is he?"

A light shove sent Doug swinging and spinning around. All he could see of the room around him was darkness. A firm hand grabbed him and he was back to being face to face with his captor. Upside down and in a dark room, it was hard to see him too well. He appeared neither young nor old, but he had a regal air to him... and it wasn't just the suit he was wearing. Doug just had this feeling that, for some reason, he was now talking to someone very important. Despite his predicament, Doug was a bit flattered that anyone important would bother talking to him.

"It's an old story, Doug." The man smiled again. "Jesus was a man of great principle. He lived his life never compromising those principles, and do you know what happened to him?"

Doug shook his head.

"He died penniless and abandoned by his friends."

Doug thought about that. "That's not much of a story."

The man let Doug go, and he swung back and forth a bit. "Well... there's a bit more to it, but that's the gist of it. You can call me Stan, by the way. You're probably wondering why you're here."

"Yeah... that's true. Last I remember I was in my barracks going to sleep." As much as Doug hated hanging upside down, he was hoping this meant he could miss the battle tomorrow. Then again, his best friend Bryce was counting on him. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, not at all."

"Then why am I hanging upside down like this?"

Stan shrugged. "Why not?"

Doug thought about that. "Because I don't like it."

"It was a rhetorical question, Doug."

Doug thought even harder. "Is that like a math question?"

A woman's voice then piped in, "Is this going somewhere, Stan?" Doug tilted his head to see the embers of a cigarette being smoked by someone standing a ways back from Stan.

Stan still faced Doug. "Patience, Ms. Bee. Doug has an important mission to do for us."

"I do?" Doug was never given anything important to do as he had usually screwed up even the simple tasks.

"You're quite special, Doug."

"Really? How?" The only thing Doug could think of that he could do well was make coffee. No matter how many bullets and bombs were flying, Doug could be counted on to make at least one decent pot.

"Let's not worry about the specifics." Stan seemed to stop to think, and Doug tried to look at him a bit more closely.

"Do I know you?"

Stan smiled. "I'm often told I look familiar." He leaned closer to Doug. "I'm God."

Doug could hear Ms. Bee laughing. Stan now turned toward her. "If you're not going to help, do you have something else you could be doing?"

She laughed again. "I'll be quiet; I don't want to suffer the wrath of the Lord."

Doug, as usual, was confused. "Empress Proserpine says she is God."

Stan shoved Doug, sending him spinning again. "As do the five other Emperors, but the problem is there can be only one true God. After The Great War and the defeat of the prior ruler, there's been a foolish rush to power." Stan grabbed Doug. "Everyone wants to rule the world, Doug, but few would know what to do with it should he succeed. I know what needs to be done, though."

"Who was the prior ruler?"

Stan stepped back. "Let's not worry about him."

"He was a jerk," Ms. Bee added and smoked her cigarette.

"Suffice it to say, the old ruler was defeated in The Great War," Stan said.

"The one with the nukes?"

"Yeah, that one, Doug. It was a continuation of a battle that started long ago... one fought over a long, long time. It's nearly over, but the world has to be put in order again. That's where you come in."

Doug tried, and failed, to process all this. "Well, I'm not very good at... uh... stuff. I’m just a soldier, and not a very good one. I’m not even sure I score high enough on tests to get that fry cook job I want after I’m out of the military."

"You'll do, Doug; don't worry. You have a greater destiny than frying things. Now, do you know what the Emperors are?"

He had always wondered that. "I think they're supposed to be really powerful."

"They are, and they're not human."

Doug furrowed his brow. "Are they aliens?"

Stan considered that a moment. "Something like that. Let's call them the 'Fallen'."

"What did they fall from?"

"Not important. What is important is that they are evil. You know what evil is, don't you, Doug?"

"Like really bad, I think."

Ms. Bee giggled. "It's like we're dealing with a child."

"Hey! It's hard to think when you're hung upside down in the dark!" Doug shouted.

"Ignore her, Doug. Anyway, these Emperors are quite bad and must be dealt with, but they cannot be killed."

"Even if you shot them in the face?"

"Yes."

Doug thought about that. "Did you try shooting them in the face?"

"He's got you there," Ms. Bee said.

"Shut up, Bee. No, Doug, shots to the face aren't going to do it. These beings can't even harm each other. That's why they use you humans to fight for power. They believe if they can defeat all the others and have all the remaining humans as their followers, they can be rulers of all there is."

"But you want to rule?" Doug looked at Stan wondering if he was one of those beings that didn't mind being shot in the face. He looked like a regular person to him... just maybe cleaner.

"I orchestrated The Great War." Stan started to appear angry. "I gave us this opportunity, and those fools are squandering it in pointless battles. Thus, something must be done about the Fallen. They can't be killed, but there is an old prison - the oldest prison - which used to hold them. I need your help sending them back."

"Where's the prison?"

"It's... um... well..." Stan paused for a moment. "You've seen sci-fi movies, Doug. Let's just say it's in another dimension."

Doug now considered this on top of everything else and only found himself getting increasingly confused. "Are you sure you can't just shoot them in the face?"

Stan grabbed Doug. "Forget about shooting in the face! Okay?"

"Sorry!"

Ms. Bee laughed again. "Oh, this is so going to work."

Stan closed his eyes and, when he reopened them, he was much calmer. "The only way to deal with the Fallen is to send them to this prison. The problem is that no one has done such a thing for thousands of years... since that one called Jesus I told you about."

"The guy who died penniless and with no friends?"

"Yes, but we'll try to keep that from happening to you."

This was a lot for Doug to process. The part he still had the most trouble with is that someone seemed to be counting on him to do something of importance. "Uh... so what do we do?"

Stan paused for a moment. "We'll have to figure that out, but I have confidence you can take on the Fallen."

Doug was pretty sure he heard Ms. Bee stifle another laugh. "All of them?" Doug asked. "If anyone found out I was plotting against Empress Proserpine, I'd be in big trouble... the sort where they gut you."

"Don't worry; you won't take on an Emperor at this point. There are many Fallen, and most serve one Emperor or another. We'll start low, and see what we can do." He smiled. "This should be fun."

"So what happens to me now?" Doug tried to look up at the rope he was dangling from. "Can I get down from here?"

"Soon enough. I'll return you to your barracks. Tomorrow, go to battle as normal, but do whatever you can to keep safe. Avoid any unnecessary risks. We need you alive, Doug."

If there was one thing Doug had done successfully in Emperess Proserpine's wars so far, it was stay alive… but just barely. "Okay."

"We'll talk again soon. Good luck."

Stan's face began to become blurry and fade away. Before everything disappeared, he heard Ms. Bee utter, "I’m just going to go ahead and start working on the next plan."

NEXT

Help Save Science Fiction at Jim Baen's Universe!

The Supreme Court ruled 5-4 that police do not have to knock before entering your home if they have a warrant. What else did they rule police don't have to do?

Screenhead reveals Glenn's horrible family secret Down Under.

So first the beloved Zarqawi gets all blowed up, and now new raids have just captured 759 terrorists and killed 104. And the new head of al Qaeda in Iraq, Abu Ayyub al-Masri, is jumping at every loud noise. It just ain't a good day to be a terrorist. Maybe it's time to find new jobs instead of randomly killing people.

NEW JOBS FOR TERRORISTS

* Illegal Immigrant: Maybe you can do the jobs that even the Mexicans won't touch. Whatever it is, it can't be worse than hiding in caves and being shot at.

* Democrat Politician: Good at ranting about how the Americans are doomed in Iraq? Then liberal bloggers will love you! Also, appearing on video announcing empty threats is what Democrats do best.

* Spammer: Maybe spam about penis enlargement would be more effective if it was written by people who personally know the pain of having a small penis.

* Employee at My Local McDonalds: I don't really want to have terrorists nearby, but the place is understaffed and I'm sick and tired of waiting twenty minutes for my double quarter pounder with cheese.

Any other job ideas for former terrorists?

It's the Carnival of Comedy #59: Zarqawi's Dead! at Radioactive Liberty.

Want to host? Email me at Spacemonkey -at- IMAO.US and have me eventually add your name to this schedule.

Upcoming Carnivals
#60 Will be at theAcme Anvil Co. Steve's already thought of a theme!
#61 Will be at Blogs for House

Update: Upcoming carnival are 60 and 61, not 70 and 71. I was never good at math. 70 and 71 are still upcoming, as in ''in the future'. My error did not affect the timespace continuum in that way.

Excerpt from a modern day Fitzmas carol from Mr Right. I thought this was pretty dadburned funny.

Ms. American Spy (Sung to the tune of Don McLean's American Pie)

A short, short time ago
I can still remember
How the "Plame Game" used to make me smile
And as I read those D-Kos rants
I got a big bulge in my pants
And thought maybe we'd get "Chimpy" for awhile

But then June 12th made me shiver
Fate became an "Indian Giver"
Bad news on the Internet
Precisely what I had fret!

Oh, I remember how I cried
When I thought of Wilson's "outed" bride
Something deep within me fried
The day that Fitzmas died

You'll want to read the rest at The Right Place.
I wonder if Mr Right and Don McLean would let me record it?

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Here are the Top Ten Facts About The Meow Mix House That The Government Doesn't Want You To Know

10. The living space is designed on early blueprints for the Guantanamo Detention Facility, which were rejected as "too inhumane" and in gross violation the Geneva Conventions.

9. The handlers and assistants have also been neutered and spayed.

8. Felix the Cat was the first image ever to be broadcasted over television. A reality show about cats is an attempt to bring about the end of television as written in The Gospel Of Farnsworth. Once the Messiah Tesla returns to separate the damned from the saved, the broadcast spectrum will be destroyed forever. But first, these commercial messages...

7. There's a Chinese Restaurant next door, and their sign has recently been corrected to read "Meet the Meow Mix contestants."

6. The four cameras can pan, tilt, zoom, and fire darts tipped with neurotoxin. (Just like in Big Brother)

5. If you read the privacy policy, it says nothing about handing over data to the Bush Administration. By using this site, your cat may become an unwitting victim in the Global War On Terror, shipped off to Kitty Gitmo for years and years.

4. One of the contestants turned out to be Glenn Reynolds in a cat suit. (Don't ask)

3. Snoop-Dogg came up with the original idea for the show. F/X passed on it, Animal Planet balked at the TV-MA rating, and the rest is history. (Not to be confused with the History Channel, which keeps telling us that Hitler lost the war, the Moon Landing was real, and that the dinosaurs didn't have shotguns.)

2. There is no ventilation in the chamber, and the occupants are rapidly running out of oxygen. Where is Jack Bauer when you need him?

And the number one Fact About The Meow Mix House That The Government Doesn't Want You To Know?

I just got this email from someone named 'FIAR'

Just reminding you to post a Comedy reminder on IMAO. Submissions Due by 11:59pm tonight. Will be hosted at Radioactive Liberty tomorrow. http://radioactiveliberty.com/

~FIAR

Not sure what it means but you can go here, or here if you can figure this cryptic message out.

It's like a code, the Da Finchi code!

Ann Coulter may scare Frank J., but you have to admit, the woman IS right. About everything. More right than Rush Limbaugh, More right than Newt Gingrich and waaaaaaay,( should that be caps?, yes, it should) WAAAAAAAY, more right than W.

So far right, in fact, that it's nearly impossible to get anywhere to the right of her. But I think it's the duty of each of us IMAO conservatives make an effort to do just that. So, I am throwing down the gauntlet.

GET RIGHT OF COULTER OR GET LEFT!

We need to make her look moderate by comparision.

My first contribution. We need to get rid of the electric chair and lethal injection as a means of capital punishment. "But, but, but, but, Mr Monkey, you're talking about ending the death penalty! How's that left of Coulter, your confusing me!", you might be saying at this point, But you could not be further from the truth than if you'd loaned the truth some money. Lethal injection and the electric chair could be considered cruel and unusual by some. It's definitely cruel, and you don't hardly ever hear about people accidentaly strapping themseves to a bed or a chair or any other type of furniture and dying an electrical or drug induced death.

No thats what makes them unusual to some people. Who has a cross shaped bed at home anyway? Besides maybe Bono. The death penalty for people who've been convicted of capital crimes should be restricted to purposefully infecting them with deadly diseases, more than one disease is good, as soon as they are convicted. And then not treat them for those diseases.

We let God's will or survival of the fittest, if you swing that way, be the appeals process. If they get well? They don't die! Otherwise, life, albeit a short miserable life ending in death in prison. Either way it's a life sentence. So, in a way my plan does eliminate the death penalty. It changes the options from life or death to life or short, miserable, diseased life with the (slight) possibily of immunity.

People die from untreated diseases all the time, all over the world. Is it cruel? Sure, you bet, giving people deadly diseases is probably as cruel as murder is heinous. But it's not cruel AND unusual. And THAT'S what makes it constitutional.

And it also makes me righter than Coulter.

It looks like the War On Illegal Immigration has a new recruit, and his name is Elvis P.:

"Police! Policia! Police!" yelled Daniel Monico, a deportation officer, holding his badge to a window where someone had pulled back the curtain. "Open the door!"

Moments later, agents led a dazed-looking Jose Ferreira Da Silva, 35, out in handcuffs. The Brazilian had been arrested in 2002 and deported, but had slipped back into the country. He now faces up to 20 years in prison.

In a blitz that began May 26, U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement has arrested nearly 2,100 illegal immigrants across the country. Officials said the raids are aimed at child molesters, gang members and other violent criminals, as well as people like Da Silva who sneaked back into the country after a judge threw them out.

The crackdown is called Operation Return to Sender.

"This sends a message," said Monico, standing outside the gray Victorian apartment where Da Silva had been hiding. "When we deport you, we're serious."

Because the Operation was a success, the government is turning to enlist more Elvis songs in its never-ending battle for truth, justice, and the American way!

• Operation Heartbreak Hotel - FEMA cutting off housing subsidies for Katrina evacuees.

• Operation You're The Devil In Disguise - USO tour featuring Ann Coulter.

• Operation Suspicious Minds - NSA wiretapping of calls to Afghanistan and Iraq.

• Operation Crying In The Chapel - Administration taskforce pushing "Defense Of Marriage Act."

• Operation You Ain't Nothin' But A Hound Dog - Army and Reserves program for retraining Abu Ghraib prison guards.

• Operation All Shook Up - US Geological Survey tracking Senator Ted Kennedy's movements.

• Operation You Gave Me A Mountain - Department of Energy Yucca Mountain storage plans.

• Operation I'll Be Home For Christmas - U.S. Marines, Air Force, Navy, Army, and Reserves program (postponed)

Who wants another story bit by bit?

Don't bother answering; I'm going to do it anyway. Superego seemed to be a success, so I think I'll give it another try. Currently, I have to wait until September or October to hear if my short story "No Good Deed" will appear in Jim Baen's Universe, and I want to hone my skill a bit more before I attempt a full novel, so I'm going to start another story here on IMAO you'll get in small increments daily.

No, it won't affect my regular humor blogging, and the first person who complains about its existence rather than just scrolling past it gets beaten to death with his own monitor (actually, I can’t remember if anyone complained about Superego... but I know you complainers are out there just waiting for something to complain about).

BTW, have you subscribed to Jim Baen's Universe's yet?

Help Save Science Fiction at Jim Baen's Universe!

After a bit of coaxing, I got them to make Eric Flint's editorial on the current state of the Science Fiction market available for free since I think it states quite well why a good short story market is needed for SF and how it helps new authors (like me) have a chance to get their foot in the door. Read it here.

I feel like I got my $30 worth with the first issue (even the basic subscription includes a free e-copy of The World Turned Upside Down). I'm actually going to be getting a new cell phone soon with a big screen so I can carry it all with me. Considering your own reading appetite and SF fandom, there are other packages to choose from.

Anyway, at least humor me and check out the preview edition. There's even a story with space monkeys.

And, soon, I'll start a new story bit by bit on this blog. Maybe I can make that an annual event thing... like 24 (and then SarahK can snark it).

(A Precision Guided Humor Assignment)

Recently Greenpeace wanted to say something nasty on the occasion of President Bush's visit to Pennsylvania promoting his nuclear energy policy.

Unfortunately, they sent out an early draft of the press release instead of the final document, and it contained the following:

"In the twenty years since the Chernobyl tragedy, the world's worst nuclear accident, there have been nearly [FILL IN ALARMIST AND ARMAGEDDONIST FACTOID HERE]"

Being a so-called "writer" myself, I just hate to see writer's block cramping someone's style, even if it IS a bunch of ecoterrorists so lame that they once got beat up by the French.

So here are some ALARMIST AND ARMAGEDDONIST FACTOIDS that Weeniepeace can use for their next press release:

... nearly three million square miles of rainforest decimated by President Bush. And that's just on his ranch:

... nearly a a 35% increase in carbon monoxide emissions, mostly from Al Gore flying around the country shrieking about the dangers of global... something. It's hard to make out the words when he shrieks like that.

... nearly 15 million cases of leprosy in Iraq. Either leprosy or some other horrible disease that turns fingers purple. Probably due to depleted uranium dust. Or freedom. Both of which are known killers. You don't see North Koreans with purple fingers, do ya? I think I've proven my point.

... nearly 24 instances where Aquaman failed to save the world. Because he was weakened by toxic water pollution. If President Bush would keep dirty Mexicans out of the Rio Grande, this wouldn't happen.

... nearly 6 years of Karl Rove not being indicted. That's just CRAZY! It's like letting a rabid pitbull run loose around your neighborhood. A very Machiavellian rabid pitbull.

... nearly 3000 hurricanes - each with the force of hundreds of billions of tons of TNT - which have slammed into the coastal United States - killing millions of innocent minorities, women, children, and fuzzy kittens - while putting trillions of dollars into the pockets of Bush's oil buddies at Halliburton somehow.

... BUUUUUUUUUUSH!!!1!

... nearly a 10,000% increase in the number of prisoners being held at Guantanamo Bay since 2003. If current trends continue, even the prison guards will be imprisoned by 2012.

... nearly 50 people in Florida eaten by alligators because new nuclear power plants are being built, disrupting the delicate ecosystem of the alligator's natural prey - poodles.

... nearly 1 more dead Zarqawi, which has devastated the market for New Balance sneakers among the terrorist demographic.

... nearly a 300% increase in attacks by Ann Coulter, leaving thousands of innocent liberals dead or miffed.

But she's in the news now and John Hawkins has an interview (I'm pretty sure I made that global warming joke before...).

"Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki!"

Nuri jumped from his desk. "What? Who is it?" He saw the smiling face of President Bush. "What are you doing here in Baghdad?"

"I came to support your burgeoning democracy!"

"Oh. Well, I guess you can..."

Bush picked up a knife. "What's this?"

"That's my letter opener! Be care..."

Bush swung it around and cut a hole in the wall. "Whoops. I'll put it down."

"Good because..."

Bush picked up something else. "What's this?"

"That's an expensive vase! Be very..."

The vase fell and shattered on the floor. "Uh-oh; I done broke it."

Nuri tried to keep his fists from clenching. "That's okay. Just don't..."

"What's this?"

"That's my 'World's Best Prime Minister Mug.' Hand it over!" Nuri reach to grab it, but Bush accidentally tilted it over, pouring scalding hot coffee onto Nuri's groin. "Aieee! You idiot! Stop touching things!"

Bush hung is head. "I just came to support your democracy and you yelled at me."

"I'm sorry. Why don't you go sit over by the window and quietly support democracy while I get a towel."

"Okay." Bush sat down. He looked out the window. "Oh no! I see someone... and I think he's an Arab. He might even be a Muslim! He could be here to attack us!" He paused for a moment as he watched. "There's a whole army of them out on the Baghdad streets!"

"Idiot!" Nuri shouted, "Most of the population is..." Nuri paused and thought for a moment. "Hey, they might be suicide bombers. You better go stand out front of the building and check on them."

"I'll check on them good!" Bush ran out of the office.

Nuri found a towel in a cabinet. "Idiot. Ah, but I dream of the day our democracy will be so strong that we can elect someone as dumb as him."

* * * *

As Bush got out onto the street, he spotted a Marine. "Is that you, Buck?"

"Yes, Mr. President sir. It is I, Buck - Buck the Marine, that is. I have some time off, so I thought I'd spend it in Baghdad where I get shot at less than my usual locations."

"Well, I'm looking for Muslim terrorists, so you can help me."

"Yes, sir. I must warn you, though, the commanders have gotten really pissy about us killing civilians, so we have to be careful."

"I'll be careful." Bush watched the crowd of people in front of them. "We need to check out these people to see if they are terrorists. A lot of there people look Arab... but I sometime get them confused with Latinos. If they're Latino, don't question them too much because I don't want to hurt the Latino vote by exposing illegal aliens. But, whatever you do, don't call it 'amnesty.'"

Buck furrowed his brow. "Uh... I don't think there are many Latinos here... outside of U.S. forces, that is."

"Don't ask don't tell." Bush spotted one man walking by. "Grab him!"

Buck grabbed the Iraqi and put him in a headlock.

"Who are you?" Bush demanded.

"I am but a simple apple vendor."

"Buck! Check him for bombs to see if he's a terrorist. If he is, beat him up!"

Buck patted down the Iraqi. "He's clean."

"Then check his voter registration card to see if he's a Democrat. If he is, beat him up!"

Buck let the man go. "I don't think there are Democrats in Iraq."

"Really? Then we're making more progress than I thought." Bush's cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket. "You're speaking to the most powerful man in the world... Hey, Snowman... Good economic news? Oh no! Make sure the press doesn't find out about it... Because they always spin it to make it sound bad, stupid. By the way, did you hear how I'm in Baghdad? ...Really? It made the papers? I can't believe I made the newspapers again. Make sure to cut out any article in any paper that mentions me so I can see... I don't care if it takes all day. Do it!" Bush hung up and looked to Buck. "That was Tony Snow. His job is to make sure the press knows I'm smart and in charge. He was on FOX News."

"I like FOX News."

"Me too!"

A man ran up to Bush and Buck. He pulled open his coat revealing a bomb strapped to him. In his right hand he held a detonator. "When I heard you were here, I rushed over to kill you! I will be the greatest martyr ever!"

"Oh no! A human bomb!" Bush shouted. "I don't know how to defuse those."

"I do." Buck pulled out a .45 and shot the terrorist in the head. The terrorist fell dead to the dusty street.

"Yay!" Bush exclaimed. "We defeated terrorism thanks to my leadership!"

Some American press rushed to the scene. "Due to Bush's low approval rating, people are now trying to blow him up." The reporter looked to Bush. "I notice your lack body armor. Is this because you aren't properly funding our civilian-murdering troops?"

"The armor was bulky and I didn't want to wear it. You can't tell me what to wear!" Bush punched the reporter, knocking him to ground and started kicking him. "I only wear what I want, so you shut up!" After a minute, he stopped and turned to Buck. "I can only kick a reporter for so long before I get bored. Want to go find Zarqawi's body and wander the streets with him pretending he's alive like on Weekend at Bernie's?"

Buck shrugged his shoulders. "I'm on leave; why not."

There's now this big kerfuffle over what appears to be a Marine singing about Iraqis getting killed. The media makes it sound like he was singing a song that went, "Kill Iraqi children! Kill Iraqis children!" when the song actually talks about the children getting killed by insurgents and the Marine just directly killing those shooting at him. It might be a little inappropriate, but I can't believe this is getting national attention and CAIR's panties in a bunch.

Hey, when Marines are put in such stressful situations as the current conflict, it is inevitable that they will sing songs. If punishment must be doled out for singing, then it should go all the way to the top to the one really responsible: Bush. It's his illegal war that caused this singing, and he must be held accountable.

Well, the Meow Mix House Meowcams seem to be running now, and I'm watching Romeo (he has thumbs!) stare at a bowl of food for longer than an hour.

Live streaming multi-angle feline food bowl staredowns! All with a corporate sponsorship!

I can't compete! I can't compete! Nyyyyaaarrrrgggghhhh!

(Think the application is stalled? Nah. The cat really likes to stalk his bowl of food.)

One thing about the Meow Mix House that they don't talk about on the website are the ladies who enter the house and play with the cats or clean up messes...

Hours later, know who's still not indicted?

Scientists have found that increased temperature is turning polar bears into cannibals! I haven't seen Al Gore's movie (the scariest movie ever), but did even he warn about how global warming will lead to cannibalism?

I wonder at what temperature can we expect people to start turning into flesh eating zombies? I'm guessing 103 degrees Fahrenheit (though I'm not sure what humidity). Anyway, if you weren't scared about global warming before, then be scared now. And, if you already were scared, be super scared now.

And watch your back before you get eaten!

Okay, so Stephen Hawking is getting all doom-and-gloom over a massive disaster wiping out the human race if it doesn't expand beyond the earth.

Blah blah blah. Al Gore on ALS. (ALS Gore?) Whine whine whine. Tell it to NASA, Mr. Smarty Depends!

But that's not the real news here, folks...

Hawking said he's teaming up with his daughter to write a children's book about the universe, aimed at the same age range as the Harry Potter books.

"It is a story for children, which explains the wonders of the universe," his daughter, Lucy, added.

They didn't provide other details.

With Fitzmas a bust while a Kennedy pleads guilty, what's officially fun again?

Q: What's the problem with the headline "Kennedy Pleads Guilty To DUI" released by the AP?

You may think, "How does Karl Rove not being indicted affect me?"

FOOL! IT AFFECTS YOU GREATLY!

IMPORTANT FACTS ABOUT KARL ROVE NOT BEING INDICTED:

* No indictments for Rove means MORE INDICTMENTS LEFT TO USE AGAINST YOU!

* If tinfoil-hat moonbats are right (and when aren't they), Rove probably avoided indictment by TESTIFYING AGAINST DICK CHENEY. How will Cheney react? THINK SHOTGUN AND FACES! Why do you think Bush suddenly FLED TO THE SAFETY OF BAGHDAD?

* This is all just evidence that this whole thing was but a plot by Rove to distract us. Have you ever seen Patrick Fitzgerald and Karl Rove in the same room together? No, you have not! That's because PATRICK FITZGERALD IS KARL ROVE IN DISGUISE!

* And what was Rove trying to distract us from? Could it be a plot to steal our blood? In fact, IT COULD BE NOTHING ELSE!

* If Rove got away with this, what's to stop him from outing all of our wives as secret agents? NOTHING!

* And what about Joe Wilson? Look at the pictures of Zarqawi carefully; doesn't he look fake? KARL ROVE DRESSED UP JOE WILSON AS ZARQAWI AND HAD THE AIRFORCE BOMB HIM! Just further evidence that Zarqawi never really existed and was INVENTED BY THE WHITEHOUSE TO EVENTUALLY LEAD US INTO AN ILLEGAL WAR WITH LICHTENSTEIN!

* And, with his newfound unindictedness, what's to keep Rove from walking up and punching you in the crotch with impunity? ONLY HIS TIGHT SCHEDULE WHICH LEAVES LITTLE TIME FOR RANDOM CROTCH PUNCHING!

* Did you just think you saw movement out of the corner of your eye? IT WAS ROVE! Now that he is unindicted, NO POWER IN THE 'VERSE CAN STOP HIM!

* I'm now so scared, I PEED MY PANTS! That's lucky, because ROVE HAS NO USE FOR URINE SOAKED PANTS! Rove will steal your pants UNLESS YOU PEE THEM NOW!

* Finally, and most importantly... AIEEE! IT'S ROVE! AND HE HAS PIANO WIRE! I must ausj;d mcvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Know who was indicted today?

...for being dead sexy!

Seriously though, Patrick Fitzgerald announced that Rove will not be indicted for the CIA leak case. For those of you who like that German word that means enjoying the pain of others (I ain't going to try and spell it) here are the DUmmies crying and wondering who stole Fitzmas (as with all Democratic Underground links, there is a language warning - both for vulgarity and psychotic delusions).

(click to enlarge)

Things the Iraqis are starting to getting the hang of: Human Rights, Freedom, Democracy

Things the Iraqis aren't getting at all: sun-loving beachwear

[Real story at CENTCOM]

I have been warned not to liveblog Meow Mix House here under threat of severe beating. Not only would this be painful, but it would get Spacemonkey jealous because he's in charge of the getting beaten department here at IMAO. (He has a Masters of Don't Hurt Me! Not In The Face! Not In The Face! from Stanford, you know.)

Zarqawi lived for 52 minutes after U.S. troops got to him. There are lots of rumors about what his last words are, so here are the...

TOP TEN POSSIBLE LAST WORDS OF ABU MUSAB AL-ZARQAWI

10. "So how big was that bomb you dropped on me? I was thinking at least 500 pounds; am I right?"

9. "If you don't do what I think you're going to do with that bacon, I'll give you each three of my virgins."

8. "Aiee! You're standing on my groin!"

7. "To be honest, I never actually finished reading the Koran. How did it end?"

6. "I'll never tell you where the last canister of centox gas is, Jack Bauer!"

5. "Dude! Where' my leg?"

4. "My biggest regret is that I won't get to see Brad Pitt's and Angelina Jolie's child grow up."

3. "I should have listened to my horoscope's warning that 'Big things are coming today.'"

2. "Tell my goat I love her."

And the number one possible last words of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi...

"Florida takes manatee off endangered list"

 There is much celebration just because we dropped a bomb on the insignificant terrorist Zarqawi. Are we really safer, though? Can we now walk the streets at night without a care? Can we ride a bobcat with a saddle on it without fear of being mauled? No. Zarqawi's death changes nothing, because the real evil mastermind is still out there plotting against America and issuing statements against us and Israel with impunity as our government does nothing to stop him. Well, I won't cheer because one goofball terrorist is pig-feed; I will only feel safer when Kofi Annan is finally dead.

 Kofi Annan is, as I type, actively working to overthrow America. He heads a large international organization - known only by its initials "U.N." - of likeminded thugs. They debate how to destroy us and our ally Israel, releasing videotapes of their vicious statement against us with impunity. Why can't we find them and stop them? Is there even a search for their headquarters? No. I suspect politics has something to do with it. Al Qaeda is the hot topic now, and I suspect many fear the "U.N." and its mastermind Kofi Annan. Maybe, some even sympathize with this criminal organization. I've heard rumors from respected sources that, during this War on Terror, Kofi Annan has even been able to infiltrate American soil, giving speeches and making recruits right under our noses!

 Did you know these enemies of America and democracy even have their own military, and it only will grow until we finally make some effort against them? Also, they have cells in hundreds of countries - including, if rumors are true - a huge base of operations in the U.S. Are you scared? I know I am. This is far more than a few suicide bombings we have to worry about; these people could seriously undermine America's power abroad. Maybe that's why we don't have a public campaign against them; the government fears it could panic the average American if it publicized these facts. Well, Mr. President, I think it's time we do panic. The panic is unavoidable, but after the panic comes the resolve - the resolve to hunt and kill Kofi Annan.

 Will the death of Kofi Annan mean the destruction of the "U.N."? No, but it will demoralize his followers if he is killed and we show proof of his death. I bet many people would leave the organization out of fear when they know America is fully committed to destroy it. Then we can start to destroy "U.N." cells in other countries. And, if rumors are true of an American headquarters, we should be able to find and destroy that, helping American sleep in peace at night.

 There is no time to waste, though. The "U.N." and the vile Kofi Annan want to undermine us and our allies. They think they can destroy us and will move towards that goal. We must destroy them first, paving the way for peace so we can ride the bobcat of security into the horizon of our future.

Frank J. is a syndicated columnist whose columns appear worldwide on IMAO.us. He is also the author of such books as "A Frank Guide to Foreigners and Their Evil" and "Ride the Cat".

Okay, I'm officially tired of getting asked what IMAO means. It's been kind of a running joke that I never admit to it, but all the e-mails are getting a little tiresome to answer. More importantly, I've heard from Doug at ThoseShirts.com that some poeple are hesitant to buy my designs not knowing what IMAO means. Running jokes are great at all... until they cost me money.

So, I'm going to announce the official answer - probably in the newsletter first - and then add a page with it. Yeah, it won't be the most amazing thing when it's "revealed," but it's a big change in IMAO policy.

BTW, Harvey now has some designs in the IMAO Store. They should appeal to people who don't like terrorists. If you don't like terrorists, check them out.

Although the podcast is still on hiatus, I just realized that I never posted the uncut Fun Facts About Massachusetts, therefore...

The version on the IMAO podcast (March 9th "Friends Don't Let Friends Shoot Friends in the Face") was cut here & there for time & quality reasons.

My unsullied and divinely inspired artistic vision is in the extended entry...

Let's just say it's related to "cat-blogging"

Link is NC-17. If you choose to go there, just CTRL+F "kos", and you should be able to figure it out pretty quick.

[Hat tip: Matty O'Blackfive]

The Eighth Weekly Challenge in the 100 Word Stories Podcast is up for your approval and balloting.

Once you've listened and voted, you can start on the topic for next week.

It's not quite Crappy Bedtime Stories, but I suppose they'll have to do for now.

(A Filthy Lie)

Recently at Instapundit, Glenn Reynolds opined:

Personally, I've always blamed the armadillo. Nasty creatures, armadillos. They carry leprosy, you know.

Seems like he's over-reacting a bit, doesn't it? Like he's got some sort of personal grudge against armadillos?

I wonder if this has anything to do with... (see extended entry)

Apparently, the IDF is investigating the recent artillery shelling of a Gaza beach which resulted in the deaths of at least seven Palestinians.

The investigation may take a while, though. I mean, try saying "She shells Shia cells by the seashore" ten times fast.

With the number of terrorists out there already conveniently reduced to kibble, the U.S. government has authorized the sale of a new high quality feed for all your livestock needs.

So, buy it now. It will make your livestock explode with flavor!

Since it's Friday, I thought I'd spread the joy of humor-free, apolitical Friday Catblogging to IMAO (aka "I-MEOW").

Sure, some of the IMAO bloggers have cats, but apparently I'm the only one of them who has enough space left on his digital camera to snap photos of the little boogers doing stupid things all day.

Anyway, it's time for Piper the Little:

If you're not sure how this absurd scene pertains to IMAO, since IMAO is famous for that "political humor" thing, it doesn't. If you must have some semblance of politics or humor in everything you read here, just assume that Piper is... um...

Help me out here. Make your suggestions in the comments how this scene is, in fact, a political allegory.

You can find more examples of Friday catblogging by searching a blog search engine such as Technorati for "catblogging."

You can also find a roundup of catblogging posts at The Friday Ark, located at The Modulator blog. Then, when the weekend is nearly over, head over to The Carnival of the Cats for more kitty goodness. There's also a Flikr Group called Furry Friday.

Add to that Weekend Catblogging at Eatstuff.

Anybody I miss?

Senator Edward Kennedy: "A vote for this amendment is a vote for bigotry, pure and simple."

Senator Robert Byrd: "Yea."

This week's carnival of comedy is a roast!

A spacemonkey roast!! Sounds tasty, doesn't it?

Who will come out first with a press release denouncing the killing of Abu Musab Al-Zarqawi as "An extrajudicial assassination that violates the Geneva Conventions" ?

a) Secretary General Kofi Annan
b) Al Qaida Mastermind Osama Bin Laden
c) The Council For American-Islamic Relations
d) Amnesty International
e) The Red Cross/Red Crescent Socieities
f) Michael Moore

Yay! We done blowed him up good!

PJM has the blogger reaction roundup (mine was "Yay! We done blowed him up good!" if they didn't get it yet).

(A Precision Guided Humor Assignment)

Michael Moore is being sued for $85 million by a wounded soldier who was justifiably irked by Moore's unauthorized - and deliberately misleading - use of an interview he did with NBC. The way Moore made it look, you'd think the soldier was just another monkey-faced anti-war zealot, when nothing could be further from the truth.

If there's any justice in the world, Mikey's going to lose the suit. I mean, is it really too much to ask for America's deep-pocket-hating juries to accidentally do the right thing just this once?

Well, if they do, then that raises the question of where Moore is going to get $85 million, since everyone knows he's squandered all his movie royalties building a 300-foot, solid gold statue of a Twinkie, toward which he bows down to pray five times daily.

Surely, though, there MUST be someone in the Democratic party willing to hire a Goebbels-quality propagandist such as Moore to do a little creative cinematography?

I envision something like the following...

Michael Moore sat next to Hillary Clinton, nervously chewing his lower lip.

"Tastes like chicken," he thought.

Followed by, "I wonder if Hillary's lip tastes like chicken?... "

"Nah," he decided, "probably more of a strangled-kitten flavor."

At last Michael broke the uncomfortable silence.

"So..." Moore queried Hillary, "How'd ya like it?"

With eerie, ninja-like speed, Hillary grabbed Moore's collar and pulled his terrified face within an inch own rage-distorted countenance.

"This film," seethed Hillary, "was FIVE... HOURS... LONG!"

"To create a full-bodied artistic..."

"It shows me beating Chelsea with a coathanger!"

"Mild exaggerations were..."

"It shows me accepting a wheelbarrow full of cash - clearly marked "BRIBE MONEY" - from Jack Abramoff!"

"It was sort of allegorical..."

"It shows me smoking crack with Marion Barry while dressed in nothing but fishnet stockings and a steel-studded black leather teddy!"

"Some directorial license was necessarily..."

"IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A 30-SECOND SPOT FOR MY 2008 PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN!" shrieked Hillary, as she landed a vicious right cross that broke Moore's nose and then hurled him to the floor.

"Wait!" wheezed Moore, as Hillary stormed towards the exit, "I'm still getting my $85 million, right?"

Hillary paused... turned... considered... "Sure," she grinned, "you'll get what's coming to you."

"BRUNO!" Hillary called to her Secret Service agent, "Pay the man... Give him 85 million... in PAIN! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Is that some sort of Chinese currency?" asked Moore hopefully.

"Yeah," said Bruno, "it's Chinese... just like these here brass knuckles I'm wearin'... Here, have a closer look..."

Bruno paid the man.

(click to enlarge)

Anyone wanna go in on it with me?

Deputy Secretary-General Mark Malloch Brown of the U.N. said that FOX News and Rush Limbaugh are keeping us ignorant of the good the U.N. does. This makes me very angry at FOX News and Rush Limbaugh because I can't even imagine the U.N. ever doing anything useful and am quite curious at what the U.N. could have possibly done. Did, in the midst of their bumbling, the U.N. inadvertently rescue a cat from a tree or something?

The United Nation's number 2 official criticized the American people in a speech. In what manner will Ambassador John Bolton eviscerate him?

This is why.

"So some Muslims wanted to behead me, and I was like, 'What's this all aboot, eh?'"

"Did they succeed?"

"No, I still have my head, eh. Anyway, the reason I called..."

President Bush saw some movement outside the window. "Hey, I got some business to attend to. Later, Mr. Canadian." Bush then hung up on the Prime Minister and shouted out his window. "Get off my lawn!"

"What's the matter, dear?" Laura Bush asked.

"Politics just hasn't been working out for me lately," Bush whined, "and now illegal immigrants are getting gay married on the White House lawn."

"Well, I think you brought this on yourself. At least your poll numbers are doing better; now a third of the country likes you."

"Wow! That's a lot of people!" Bush exclaimed. He then paused for a moment. "Does my mom like me again yet?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"I'll win her back one of these days," Bush vowed. "Anyway, I got bigger worries with that Haditha incident. Right now, I have Marines going through sensitivity training to make sure we don't have more incidents."

* * * *

"So, it's important not to shoot children," the Marine officer said, "unless they got it coming. Any questions?"

"Can we still shoot midgets?" Buck the Marine asked.

"Sure. The important thing is we don't want any wanton slaughter of civilians, because them Democrats love that and will use that to pull us out. Then, you won't get to kill anyone, and you don't want that, do you?"

"No, sir!" the Marines shouted.

"Can't we just shoot the Democrats?" Gomez asked.

"No, they ain't foreign, stupid," Buck told him.

"Hey, I was just trying to think outside the box."

* * * *

"Rummy is holding a press conference to assure reporters that incidents like Haditha will be fully investigated," Bush told Laura. He turned on the TV.

"A whole press room of reporters was found strangled," the anchorman said. "A note was found at the scene reading, 'I, Donald Rumsfeld, strangled all these people because their questions were impudent.' D.C. police are once again baffled and slightly tipsy. We sent a reporter to get a statement from Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld who was supposed to give that press conference, but that reporter was found strangled as well. Whether that murder is related to the others is unknown."

Bush turned off the TV. "Not that mysterious 'Rumsfeld Strangler' again; the police are never going catch him. Well, less reporters means less bad news." He saw Rumsfeld walk by his office. "You okay, Rummy?"

"My hands are sore."

"Arthritis?" Laura asked.

"I don't have to answer your questions," Rumsfeld grumbled as he stormed off.

"That's our Rummy!" Bush chuckled.

"Hey, I meant to ask," Laura said, "Why is Harry Reid pinned under your desk?"

Bush looked at the twitching legs sticking out from beneath his overturned desk. "I don't remember. I think there is a reason."

"Well, I'm going to go back to dusting. Tell me if you figure it out." Laura left the office.

Bush kicked one of Harry Reid's legs. "Oh! Now I remember. I pinned Harry Reid under my desk to remind myself on getting more of the good economic news out there."

Bush ran out into the hallway and found Tony Snow. "Snowman, we need to get more emphasis on the good economy to fight all the bad publicity. Thus, we're going to rob a liquor store."

"I don't really follow that logic."

"I'm the President!" Bush shouted. "That's all you need to know!" Bush spotted Cheney. "Hey, Dick, we're robbing a liquor store. You in?"

"Big time!"

"Just watch that itchy trigger finger of yours; I don't want you shooting someone in the face with a shotgun again."

"Then I'm out." Cheney walked off.

"Can't we just mention economic news in my press conference?" Tony asked.

Bush put on a ski mask and pulled out a handgun. "No one watches those. We just use them to distract the press from other things. But, if we rob a liquor store and people hear about how much money is stolen, they'll know the economy must be good!"

Laura came walking by with her feather-duster and noticed Bush in his ski mask. "What are you doing?"

"I'm... about to go skiing."

"Then why have the gun?"

"Uh... biathlon training."

"But you said the Winter Olympics are gay."

"Uh... maybe I'm gay." Bush nudged Tony and whispered, "Back me up on this."

"I'm going to go hold that press conference." Tony quickly headed away.

"You better not be up to something," Laura warned Bush.

Bush placed his gun over his heart. "I swear on my father's grave I'm not."

* * * *

"You got a newspaper in here?"

"Yeah. So?" said Bush's cellmate.

Bush reached over to grab a section. "Can I see if there is any information about my poll numbers?"

"You touch my paper, I'll cut you."

Bush folded his arms. "Fine. Don't share."

Here's a music video about YOUNG CHUCK NORRIS!

Watch it now, and, if your boss at work is like, "Hey! You can't watch that at work!", roundhouse kick him in the face.

I got off the bus, looked up, and said "How do those Skittles folks know what a rainbow tastes like?"

Yahoo! Answers has a few suggestions, but I've come to the conclusion that the Skittles folks are 100% dead wrong.

A terrorist in Canada planned to storm parliment and behead the Prime Minister (which is illegal in Canada). What's up with Muslim terrorists and beheadings?

My Alexa traffic rank today is 45,666!

I think that's a big enough coincidence to know Armageddon will start sometime later today.

We all know Glenn is more than 120% evil (he had to outsource 20% of his evil to make quota) but is he the AntiChrist as Will Bill says? I wasn't sure. The evidence is compelling. But I'm a visual kind of person.

I decided to examine this picture of Glenn Reynolds. It's the same photo Wild Bill has.

At first nothing jumped out at me. But then on closer inspection I see... what you'll see when you move your mouse over the image...and click.

I don't think I need to say any more.

Case solved.

Since it's not my sort of thing, I'll point you to Blackfive for D-Day Remembered which also has links to other bloggers.

So did people back then use the number killed on D-Day as the reason we should have never gotten into WWII?

There's lots of 666 trivia floating around for some reason today but....

Did you know?

666 is the number of minutes it takes, after crossing the border, for an iliegal immigrant to become a burden to US taxpayers.

Did you know?

666 is the number of degreees a wall of fire would need to burn at to secure the border?

Did you know?

666 is the number you get when you add 000 + 111 + 222 + 333? Try it yourself!

Did you know?

666 is EXACTLY what Michael Moore would weigh if he lost EXACTLY 666 pounds?

Did you know?

666 is the number of TONS of harmful global warming causing carbon dioxide gas Al Gore exhales daily? And you thought trees generated oxygen.

Did you know?

666 is the number of airplane flights Al Gore plans to make to promote his new movie which encourages people NOT TO FLY? On airplanes?

Did you know?

If you add 666 to sum of the IQ's of all the liberals in any particular location it adds up to... exactly....666?

It's true, it's all 666% true.

666

Today being 6/6/6 should only serve to remind us that Satan is everywhere.

Yes, even at the park.

So what can you do to battle Satan? You can listen to me, that's what.

A FRANK GUIDE TO BATTLING SATAN

Louisiana Governor Kathleen Blanco is expected to sign a bill that restricts abortions in the state considerably.

Blanco has said she planned to sign the bill that would ban nearly all abortions in Louisiana, though only if the U.S. Supreme Court's 1973 Roe v. Wade abortion rights ruling is overturned. The bill by Sen. Ben Nevers, D-Bogalusa, could only take effect under two circumstances: the U.S. Constitution is amended to allow states to ban abortion; or the Supreme Court strikes down Roe v. Wade.

Under the measure, doctors found guilty of performing abortions would face up to 10 years in prison and fines of $100,000.

Before you ask, it's too late to apply it to the recent New Orleans mayoral elections.

So they have a picture of people executed by insurgents and making it seem U.S. Marines did it, and then they apologise to make it worse. We don't want you to apologise; we want you to apologize to us Americans.

Wankers.

But it's not just myself I'm promoting, I'm also promoting others through promoting myself.

Anyway, the Carnival of the Recipes is up at mountaineer musings! Yay!

Tomorrow is 6/6/06, and some people are freaking out. I've always considered fear of 666 more of superstition, though, as I don't think the number really holds that much religious signifigance. Still, John Derbyshire put up some facts about the number 666 that are quite scary (the last one is the freakiest).

 Hollywood has always ran in conflict with the values of decent, Christian Americans, with its glorification of promiscuity, vulgarity, violence, and "alternate lifestyles." Now, the twisted left-wingers who run Hollywood have declared an open war on Middle America with a summer movie that spits in the eye of anyone who cares for his fellow man. The movie, titled Snakes on a Plane, contains the frank depiction of snakes on a plane. The weirdoes in Hollywood may think this makes for entertainment, but, after less than 103 years since the invention of the plane, less than 58 years since the birth of Samuel L. Jackson, and less the 100 million years since the creation of snakes, it is just too soon for a movie combining the three.

 Plane flight is already scary enough. Hardly a flight goes by without huge turbulence or both engines giving out on the plane at least temporarily. Then there is the constant and often realized threat of a cougar escaping from the cargo hold. We just take it for granted that, when you fly coach cross-country, there is a significant chance you will die a brutal death. Thus, the last thing we need is to be reminded of the snakes that could be possibly slithering near our feet as we enjoy some mini-pretzels with a small cup of Coke.

 We all know there can be - and probably are - snakes on planes. Is there even one reader of this editorial who hasn't lost a friend or relative to lethal snake bites while he or she was on a plane? Probably a few of you have barely survived on-flight snake attacks yourselves. Thus, it is such a galling insensitivity of the Hollywood elite (who fly in their snake-free first class) to think that snakes on a plane actually passes as entertainment. As someone who once fell asleep on a flight to wake with a boa constrictor trying to crush me, I can tell you it is not entertaining at all.

 And think about the snakes. After being used as a vessel of Satan to damn man from paradise - a story recounted in a best-selling book and known to every American - snakes have worked hard to overcome bad publicity. Just when they thought they had finally reached a point where they can live in harmony with the rest of America, now comes a movie once again depicting them as the villains. Did Hollyweird even consider the backlash against snakes - the majority of whom would never harm anyone and actually benefit society by controlling the rodent population? No, the left-coast only cares about a few cheap thrills and the millions of dollars they can make through exploiting tragedy.

 At least there is some wisdom in Samuel L. Jackson's already famous line from the movie: "I want these mother@#$% snakes off this mother@#$% plane!" You hear that, Hollywood? We want some decency in our movies, and thus we want those snakes off that plane.

 Or add a Chuck Norris cameo.

Frank J. is a syndicated columnist whose columns appear worldwide on IMAO.us. He is also the author of such books as "Engine Failure, Cougars, and No Leg Room: A Frank Guide to Surviving Coach" and "Our Friends, the Snakes: Don't Hate Them Because They're Thin".

Q. Why are English corporations and organizations taking down their Cross Of Saint George flags in response to Islamist threats.

Thank you for that spontaneous outburst of lover for me yesterday.

Yeah, I'm being sarcastic. I had to put up my own birthday post. All you readers have to do is remember one day - one day - where you must praise me unconditionally, and you can't even do that. I hate you readers. Still, I'll try and arrange some words together in combinations that will make you laugh since that's my job. Also, I'm working on a brand new feature I hope to premiere soon.

Stupid readers probably won't even appreciate the work it takes, though... the dumb stupid readers they are.

Oh! That reminds me: We need to have a reader appreciation day sometime soon.

UPDATE: Rachel did wish me Happy Birthday on her blog (and included a picture of SarahK and me in our Halloween costumes), but I don't read other blogs, so that was pretty useless.

In the comments to this post on trolling, reader Jason came out of the closet (politically speaking)

All right, I'm a librul, sort of (more when it comes to human rights, those of Americans and HUMANS in general). Before you "punch me in my monkey face" I would just add that the sort of is because I am also a realist who sees Islam for what it is. Just thought you guys might like this article in the Toronto Star...It concerns the recent arrests of 20 or so suspected terrorists who wanted to clebrate "blow [s***] up day" in Toronto.

Troll out.

Now, we at IMAO have a strict policy about punching liberals in their dumb monkey faces, so this presents a bit of a dilemma - what should we do with liberal hawks?

Should we still punch them, but just not very hard?

Maybe we should merely kick them in their dumb monkey shins?

Do liberal hawks have SMART monkey faces?

I'm confused. Help me out, here.

Oh, and read the article. This should serve as a wake-up call for our moose-worshipping friends up north.

Wild Bill of Passionate America has answered a photoshopping request from Right Wing Duck's earlier post where he showed a screenshot from Michelle Malkin's Hot Air in which she's standing in front of a bunch of donuts.

If you'd like to see a picture of Michelle Malkin standing in front of a bunch of donuts AND handing you a beer, go visit Passionate America.

I declared a couple years ago that my birthday is National Gun Safety Day, so don't shoot yourself in the foot today or it will be a great offense to me.

BTW, I've now officially entered my late-twenties since I am now 27.

SarahK got me Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion which she had previously forbidden me to buy since it has a hunderd hours plus of gameplay. She's the sweetest.

What you need to do for my birthday is tell me in the comments how great I am. If any troll comes by and says I'm not great, it's the job of SarahK or spacemonkey to change the comment to super-praise!

Praise away.

NOW!

Ya know, I generally don't mind if a comment thread gets hijacked and wanders all over the place, but it DOES bug me when trolls start using vicious obscenities & generalized racial slurs.

It'd be ok if they were just personal attacks - like calling me a "blasphemous honky cracker whitebread Christ-denying atheist Satan-worshipping bastard who's going to burn in hell for all eternity", but I prefer that comment threads on my posts maintain a minimal amount of decorum, consistent with IMAO's "PG-13" policy.

Also, I don't mind humor based on racial stereotypes - where would we be without Lair's membership in the International Zionist Conspiracy forcing people to click on IMAO's ads? - but hurling racial slurs as a blanket put-down really isn't appropriate.

Of course, the BIG problem is that the IMAO editorial staff doesn't contain any members with an African heritage, so please... if you MUST slur in the comments, limit your broadly derogatory epithets to Whites, Jews, Mexicans, Rednecks, Lawyers, Women, Atheists, Waterfowl, Simians, Ninjas, and Aquatically-based homosexuals.

Thank you.

Saw this photo in the Yahoo! News Mideast Conflict gallery:

Mannequins, with headbands of the Palestinian Fatah party, are displayed in a clothing shop during a parade of newly deployed Fatah militia in the West Bank town of Tulkarem Sunday June 4, 2006. The Fatah movement of moderate Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas deployed the new militia, in a show of force against the militantly anti-Israel Hamas government. The new unit, which Fatah officials said numbers 2,500 members, is the movement's answer to a militia of 3,000 Hamas activists that the government deployed last month over Abbas' objection. (AP Photo/Nasser Ishtayeh)

When they blow themselves up in crowds of Jewish women and children mannequins, do they get seventy-two virgin mannequins in Dummy Paradise? Do the mannequins in their manufacturer's lot get pensions in honor of their shaheed puppet-brother?

Or is this proof that the cut-off of Western aid and subsidies to the Palestinian Authority has caused the terrorist groups to lay off "human" (I use that term loosely) munitions in favor of cheaper solutions?

(A Filthy Lie)

On Tuesday, June 6th of this year, the date will be 6-6-6, which means nothing to atheists like myself, but for Christians it has some evil, Satanic connotations.

And since Evil Glenn is Satan's #1 fan, ya gotta figure he's got some kind of celebratory activities planned.

My guesses:

* Invite Michelle Malkin over for minced-kitten brownies & puppy shakes.

* Make up a Rocky-Horror-style script of things to yell at the screen while watching "The Omen".

* Yes, that will include some made-up songs where he robot-dances in a black teddy & stockings.

* Hold a hobo-murderthon to raise money for Soldier's Angels. Recommended donation - a buck a bum.