This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

After my meeting with Iron Man, I decided I couldn't rely on the superhero community. I'd just keep my eyes open and continue on as business as usual. I was still waiting on the Justice League to do another decision on nuking the moon, so I started working on a new project: A computer program that could automatically blog humorous political observation for me by simply Googling today's new stories. It's an advanced project, but only I have the humor expertise to see it through.

I was interrupted, though, by a call today from my sister in Hollywood. Apparently a major studio had decided to go ahead on my movie idea entitled Ninja Nixon. It's a reimagining of Nixon's visit to China with Nixon as a ninja out for revenge. The current tagline is "He's not a crook... but he is a deadly assassin." It's quite a high-concept film, and I'm surprised a major studio approved it.

I told my sister to get in talks with Chow Yun-Fat for the title roll and she told me that she's a costume designer and that isn't her job and I told her I don't care for excuses and hung up the phone. "My dear wife," I told the harpy watching The View, "do you think we should go to Hollywood to make sure they don't screw up my movie? If done right, the ideas expressed in this film could change the world."

"I don't like California because everyone is weird there and they don't let you have guns," she said. "I shoot people who don't let me have guns."

"Well, I guess I'll just pass on my ideas to them, then. Who do you think should play Nixon's wacky sidekick Henry Kissinger?"

"Um... Bruce Willis."

I wrote that down. "Good idea. If this movie doesn't sweep the Academy Awards, such vengeance shall I wreak upon them."

The doorbell rang, and the dog growled and snarled so much you'd think it was Mexican out there. I opened the door and it was Lieutenant Caine from Miami. "Aww... did you lose your friend," I laughed in his face.

He took off his sunglasses. "I know your involved with the disappearance of Arthur Curry."

"Then, when you find his mutilated corpse, can you take a picture so I can frame my work and put it on my office wall?"

He didn't react. "In a building by the docks where we believe Arthur disappeared, we found sand like substance. Spectral analysis showed us it was actually ground up sea shells we traced to a business in Melbourne. While looking through their customer database, we got an anonymous phone call from someone saying he saw you leaving the docks laughing manically about how you killed Aquaman."

"In other words, you've got jack. Well, keep me updated on your case." I slammed the door on him.

"Hey, where are my sunglasses!" I heard him yell from outside as I used some tape to put a new pair of sunglasses on the dog. "It's a felony to take an officer's sun glasses!"

"I hate these distractions," I told my wife. "I'm going to work on movie ideas. If you see Dr. Doom, attacking the country, give me a holler."

Denny of Grouchy Old Cripple was contemplating how the Democrats are the new Tokyo Rose because they're hitting the same three themes that the Japanese used in their propaganda, namely:

1. Your President is lying to you.

2. This war is illegal.

3. You cannot win the war.

I'm not sure about #2, but after a little research, I discovered that there was also a fourth theme - which the Democrats aren't using yet, but it won't surprise me when they do - which I'll call for the sake of decorum "Your wife isn't lonely".

Which got me thinking... maybe we should start working on demoralizing the terrorists:

First Democrat that promises to leaflet Baghdad with this gets my vote.

Hey, dickweeds. I'm a busy superhero, but I try to take time out of my day to follow what the other superheroes are doing. Thus, I thought I'd give you the benefit of a superhero's opinion on superhero comics.

AQUAMAN COMIC REVIEWS

All-Star Superman #7 - I know a lot of people are raving about this series, but I had trouble following this one. Bizzaros attack from... somewhere... and then Superman saves everybody and puts them on... something. Then Superman goes to the Bizzaro home world and does... something to it. The art could be clearer. Also, how could Superman lose his powers in the end when this series started with him getting supercharged by the sun to point he's dying (like that bastard could ever die)? I really just want more of Superman flying around punching things and shooting things with his eyes, because, really, that's all he's good for. I rate this one a scorpionfish.

By the way, make sure to lobby DC Comics so I get my own All-Star series. They better just make sure they get someone who can write more than one comic a year... unlike Frank Miller (with writing dialog for Batman like "Are you retarded or something?" you can see why it takes him so long).

Detective Comics #831 - Yet another comic of Batman dealing with threats that would only take up one panel in a comic if I were dealing with them. This time he has to deal with two women: One who knows how to do cartwheels (Harley Quinn) and one who has a puppet (the new Ventriloquist). I guess if your main weapon is a boomerang shaped like a bat, you'll stick to enemies who could actually be defeated with said weapon. Really, why is Batman so popular? What problem ever called for a guy in bat suit armed with a boomerang?

Anyway, this comic has "character development" and "emotional content" if for some reason you read comics for that. I rate it a redtail catfish.

Punisher War Journal #6 - Like Batman, the Punisher has no super powers. The difference is that he's smart enough to carry guns. Then again, he hasn't fired one for like three issues. Still, this one could be the setup for an interesting story. Some masked villain is killing people to cause hatred on the American/Mexican border... and I don't think he's Tom Tancredo. So, the Punisher is heading to Mexico to "shoot him in the face." He's also supposed to don a Captain America like costume starting the next issue (he picked up Captain America's mask when Captain America surrendered in the Marvel Civil War), and, frankly, isn't someone with a huge arsenal of firearms a much better representation of America than some guy with an overgrown discus? It's promising, so I rate it an orange roughy.

There was once a comic special in which the Punisher took on everyone in the Marvel universe. I think that would be a great idea with me: Aquaman vs. the DC Universe. Not sure what my motivation would be to kill everyone, but that would be a pretty awesome comic.

Amazing Spider-Man #539 - I'm a bit late on this one, but they're more than a bit late on the follow ups. Anyway, with being hunted by the government and his aunt getting shot, Spider-Man has finally decided to man up and beat the crap out of everyone. Spider-Man always seemed like a little wuss to me, so it's good to see him drop the stupid wisecracks and just start punching people. The return to the black suit is a bit gimmicky, but I liked this comic. I actually starting to believe MJ isn't a beard. I rate it a nurse shark.

Iron Man #16 - Boring. Now that Iron Man is the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., apparently he has a lot of executive duties and not as much time blowing the crap out of stuff. If the main character of the comic has an armored suit that fires lasers, I expect more explosions and less status meetings ("Drafting a mission statement is no problem for the Invincible Iron-Man!"). Maybe the comic will get more interesting with the return of Iron Man's arch-nemesis: The Ten-Ringed Chinaman! I rate this comic a short-finned eel.

Avengers: The Initiative #1 - Neat idea, at least. Now that all people with super powers have to be registered, the American government is putting together a superhero team for each of the fifty states. The new recruits this focuses on don't seem that great so far; one actually has magical gas-riding powers. Also, I'm not sure how long this "The Initiative" Marvel gimmick is going to last. I rate this a California halibut.

Just so you know, if the government ever tried to force me to do anything, the terror I'd unleash on the shores would be unimaginable. All this living underwater has given me a bit of a libertarian streak.

Uncanny X-Men #485 - The current story line is called "The Rise and Fall of the Shi’ar Empire," but a better name would be "A Bunch of Third-Tier X-Men No One Cares About Fighting Villains No One Cares About in Galaxy a Trillion Miles Away from Anything Anyone Cares About (Part 11 of 12)." The only way this series could redeem itself is if everyone dies in the last issue (including the current writer and penciler). I rate this a sea cucumber. (FUN FACT: I don't know if I can command a sea cucumber because I've never been bored enough to try)

Aquaman #50 & #51 - This usually would be the main event, but the comic is still stuck on the "New Aquaman." I'm left as the "Dweller of the Depths" who is a cross between Merlin and Davy Jones from the recent Pirate of the Caribbean movie. Luckily, they had the mercy to kill me off at the end of issue #50. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, the Green Lantern, and the Flash all came for my underwater funeral at the beginning of #51 (and Superman did wear a rebreather because, as I keep telling you, he cannot breathe underwater). I wouldn't worry too much because I've been around since the forties and you can't kill me off for good. I'm hoping I soon resurrect back in my normal form (including losing that stupid magical water hand for a regular punching hand). If that doesn't happen soon, all the more reason you should all be writing letters to DC Comics for me to get my own All-Star comic.

Anyway, as for the story, there's too much of it. The new writer is some scifi novelist named Tad Williams and he likes to write and write and write. I wish that was the worst of it, but the current artist draws everything in the comic so cartoony you expect Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck to join the adventure. Who makes an evil being that feeds off pain appear cute? Really, they need to bring me back to normal and have this new Aquaman be the new Aqualad (he can't really command sea life yet, but maybe I can teach him). I rate the current comics a goldfish.

That's all for now. You should know that the DC Comics and Marvel Comics big summer events are starting. For DC, it's Amazons Attack, where the Amazons attack America in full force. Really, though, if the combined might of the superhero community and the US military can't take on a bunch of chicks with spears, then America doesn't deserve to exist. For Marvel, they have World War Hulk where Hulk returns to Earth to get vengeance on all the superheroes who did him wrong. Good luck to him.

You can write your opinion on the comics you're reading in the comment section. I'm busy, so I probably won't read any of what you write. Also, I don't like any of you.

The Democrat Presidential Primary Debate was pretty boring, so boring I don't think any of the left-wing blogs even bothered to write about it with all the things they still have to say about Alberto Gonzales. Maybe the debate could be more interesting with some better questions, so here's what I cam up with:

FRANK QUESTIONS FOR A DEMOCRAT PRESIDENTIAL PRIMARY DEBATE

"With President Bush out of office in 2009, do you expect the Democrats to lose focus by not having an enemy to rally against?"

"Would someone like to cede time so we can all point and laugh at Kucinich?"

"John Edwards, how badly did your mother want a girl?"

"When the terrorists attack again, under what object of furniture do you plan to hide?"

"Will one of you have the courage to stand up to the Netroots and tell them it's unhealthy to eat their own feces?"

"Senator Hillary Clinton, on the campaign trail, people are afraid to allow you to kiss their babies out of fear you may eat them. Is this a valid fear?"

"What do you think is more important: To lose the war quickly or decisively?"

"Do you think Americans are deluded enough to think the country would be safe in the hands of you dinguses? If not, what steps do you plan to take in this campaign to make the American people forget about important issues?"

"Do any of you have penises?"

You'll never get to see almost-Harvey again, people! So head over to Tammi's before Harvey finds out and makes her take it down! Quickly now...

Oh, and welcome home, T1G.

I was riding along Airline Blvd in Houston when I saw a sign at Walgreens:

PRINTER INK:
Color: $15
Black: $10

Kinda makes you wonder how the NAACP copes with printer refills.

In an election, it costs ten dollars to vote for Fred Thompson since voting for him is a privilege, not a right.

Blurg. Well, he can't be perfect, then, can he? Only Jesus was perfect. At least he's not a Houston Texans fan (or something equally bad--communist, socialist, gun grabber, illegal immigrant, etc.).

You can safely view Fred Thompson using a shoe box with a pin-sized hole in one end.

To save tax money, for a while Tennessee reduced it's police force to just Fred Thompson armed with a claw hammer. During that time, there was no crime in Tennessee or any contiguous state.

I saw a liberal shouting mathematical axioms at a outlet on the wall.

"What are you doing, my idiot friend?" I asked.

"I'm speaking truth to power, man!" he answered, his left eye twitching.

"Aren't you taking that a bit literally?"

"SHUT UP, FASCIST!" he screamed at me.

Of course, I was left with no choice but to punch him in his dumb monkey face. Still, it got me thinking: If liberals are speaking "truth to power," then shouldn't we conservatives be speaking lies to weakness? It's worth a shot, at least. And who is the biggest source of weakness? Democrats, of course!

LIES TO TELL DEMOCRATS

"You know how you keep shouting that America has lost the war? You should keep doing that; Americans love that sort of thing."

"This whole VTech shooting tragedy would be a great time to bring back the issue of gun control. That would be great for your party!"

"Pelosi is an attractive woman. She should release a swimsuit calendar."

"I think Harry Reid admitting he doesn't have a penis is a great idea. It would make him a sympathetic character."

"Ted Kennedy has to be the most coherent speaker you guys have. He should really be out front representing you."

"You should have DNC.org redirect to the Daily Kos. They're totally mainstream and won't alienate people at all."

"Hillary needs to show more anger; that's what people want from her."

"That mouse trap is deactivated; go ahead and take the cheese."

What are some other lies we can speak to weakness?

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

It's not that IMAO really needs apolitical Friday Catblogging, you know. IMAO is strong and vibrant without it.

Friday Catblogging makes IMAO stronger and vibranter, darn it.

Anyway, it's time for Nardo the Fuzzface:

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 Nardo is... um...

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

National Hairball Awareness Day

Friday Ark #136 - Today

Carnival of the Cats - Sunday

Catcams - All day long.

Winner of the first Democrat Presidential Debate: Fred Thompson.

This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

After I finished my inane blogging for the day (or "speaking lies to weakness" as I call it), I went to Stark Tower to see if my old college roommate knew anything about Doctor Doom's plans.

"Wow, nice office." He took up the entire top floor and his office decoration had that "I paid good money to have someone decorate this for me" look.

"Not to be rude, but I'm really busy. So, what's up, Frank?" Tony Stark looked stressed to the breaking point.

"Doctor Doom... Muslim terrorist... Nuclear power plant... Monkeys... Any of that ringing a bell?"

"Honestly, I don't care about Doctor Doom's plans unless he's working on a competing contract for the Department of Defense. You think he's up to something?"

"Something involving me, Tony! I have contracts of my own to work on, and it's quite hard with there being some crazed supervillian possibly after me!"

Tony tried to clean up the papers scattered on his desk. "I heard the Justice League was getting in the way of whatever you're working on."

"More like the 'Gay Homo League'!" I retorted. I then thought that was kind of lame and I could do better. "I mean the... um... Stupid League... Okay, I got nothing. Anyway, that's taken care of."

"Be careful, Frank. The Justice League is slow to action, but if they come after you, that's trouble I don't want any part of."

I laughed. "Slow to action? When was your last superheroics?"

"Hey, I act when needed, but flying around in battle armor fighting evil is hard to justify to the Stark Industry stockholders."

I looked out the window behind him to his magnificent view of the bay. "Is that a giant mutant squid attacking that boat?"

Tony turned to look. He began to get up, but then thought better of it. "Eh... I have a lot of forms to fill out; you know how government contracts are. Plus, that's really more of a job for Aquaman, and he doesn't get that many opportunities."

I smiled. "No one has seen Aquaman for about a week."

Tony sighed. "I remember back in my college days I always said, 'One of these days, Frank is going to kill Aquaman.'" He thought for a moment. "Or was it Namor?"

"Never had a beef with Namor." Out the window I could see the red and blue of Spider-Man staring out over the water at the squid and not looking sure of what to do.

"So did you really cause Aquaman to snap in Arizona?"

I sighed. "You said you were busy; why don't I let you get to work and you can tell me later if you hear anything on Victor von Doom."

"I'll ask the Avengers if they know anything."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sure the Fabio looking guy with the big hammer is a real fount of knowledge. Or maybe you can ask the giant green guy who smashes things."

Tony took out some more forms. "He's not part of the Avengers."

"Why not?"

"He smashes things."

I noticed the red and gold Iron Man armor standing unused in a display case. "I can't believe you get all the credit for designing that when all you did was come up with gay color scheme after spending countless hours sobering up at Denny's while staring at the ketchup and mustard bottles."

Tony was busy filling out forms and looking more irate. "Yes, I know; the color scheme is gay. Anything else?"

"Your mustache is gay too." I noticed something out of place. "Do you know you have the number for Joey's Pizza stuck to your armor?"

"What?!" He ran over to his armor. "Stupid teenagers! They think it's so funny to put refrigerator magnets on Iron Man... even after I just saved them from aliens! I hate kids!"

"I'll show myself out." I took one last look out his window. Now Daredevil had joined Spider-Man in watching impotently as the mutant squid destroyed the tanker. I guess it was a job for Aquaman.

"We've really run away! We're not just hiding behind a wall! We swear!"

President Bush says he'll veto the bill, but maybe he shouldn't. Instead he should say, "The Democrats are very strong and scary. I better sign their bill before they get terse with me!"

Then the troops in Iraq will announce, "The Democrats says things are lost here, so were going to retreat. Run away!"

When the terrorists hear the fading footsteps of the troops, they'll come out of hiding and yell, "We win! We knew America was too weak to stand against us! Now we'll--"

Then the troops will jump out from behind a wall. "Ha! We didn't run away! We just went behind a wall and imitated footsteps fading into the distance! Now we're going to shoot you all in the face! Ooh-rah!" Then they'll shoot all the terrorists in the face.

The terrorists will be like, "GERAGHW! MY FACE! I CAN BARELY TALK BECAUSE MY JAW IS HANGING OFF MY SKULL! BLERGAWHG! TRICKSY DEMOCRATS! WE'LL GET YOU FOR THIS! GLERBLAWG!"

And Harry Reid will have a press conference and say, "This wasn't a trick! We really wanted to surrender because we thought it would help us politically! Please don't hurt us, terrorists! Someone get me a new pair of pants!"

And then that clip will get played over and over on late night shows and we'll laugh and laugh until the clip is overplayed and we're sick of it.

It's a good plan. I came up with it... with the help of the Democrats!

In the presence of Fred Thompson, terrorists prematurely explode... even if they don't have explosives strapped to them.

Two hours tonight, y'all. And all the contestants are dressed in white. Yikes. And Ryan says there were over 70 million votes, yay for that, they got their extra 5 million bucks from Newscorp, and Ford, Coke, and the Evil Phone Corporation Which Shall Not Be Named were huge sponsors.

Ryan says it's the most shocking result ever in Idol history or something like that. So Melinda's out? Because if so, then there's no point in watching the rest of the season, best of luck with your album, Jordin, I'll buy it if your first single is good. Or Simon is going to sing tonight? Because Ryan did ask how much money they would have to raise in order for him to sing on AI. And Simon said it would have to be more than 20 million, or 20 million votes, or something like that. I don't remember. Maybe that's the shocker. No, it must be that Melinda is leaving. America is so stupid about music.

But seriously, if Melinda or Jordin goes, what's the point? This season is whack.

Ellen Degeneres is in the Walt Disney Theater or something like that, where Earth, Wind, and Fire is performing a medley of their hits. That's coo'.

Randy Jackson takes us on a tour of New Orleans.

And now there is the donation number. 1877-IDOL-AID. Or AmericanIdol.com.

Is that Quincy Jones? Brand new song written for this event by Quincy. Did he age about 40 years since Ryan shushed him a few weeks ago on the show? Is that someone else altogether? The kids are singing the new song, something about a time to share, and it's set to an African drumbeat or something. I like the beat, and it's very showtunes, so I know the men are HATING it. I like it unless they try to make this a new single or something. They said this is the next "We are the World" or something. Eh, it's ok.

That guy from Will and Grace gives the phone number again and says that if every person who ever voted for Sanjaya gave just one dollar, something something something.

For the record, I absolutely DESPISE the Cingular / new Evil Phone Corporation Which Shall Not Be Named commercial with the mom and daughter speaking in text speak. DESPISE.

Ben Stiller is on, and he has grey hair. He's fighting with his stylist over flyaway hair and then naming off all his movies. I LOVE Zoolander. He's gonna start singing and will not stop until they've raised 200,000,000. And he is singing, and they are scrolling, "Please call 1877-IDOL-AID... as soon as possible... and stop him singing..." "Immediately..." He's still singing... Funny. They've raised $8K. Come on, America.

Ryan and Simon are doing more of the Africa segment, and it's very heartbreaking. Children of 12 as heads of household. There's a boy named Grauman (sp?) raising his sibling(s). Very sad.

Ben Stiller is still singing. $11K.

Teri Hatcher wants you to give, too. So does SarahK.

Forest Whitaker sends a message from Uganda and congratulates everyone taking part in Idol Gives Back.

America voted, and Melinda is safe. Okay, so it's not the most shocking result ever. Ryan, you either lied, or Simon is going to sing later. My money is on Simon singing. Ooh! Maybe he does a duet with Simon.

Pauler went to the Boys & Girls Club in Hollywood. There are 4000 B&G Clubs across America. Really good work they do. Gets kids off the streets when their parents aren't home after school.

Il Divo is on to perform "Somewhere." I heart this song when it's done well. I suspect they'll do it well. You know, I have issues with opera-type music: enunciation. What's so wrong with enunciation, opera people? You're too good for it? Otherwise, I'm on board. And that was lovely. I love male voices. But as a wise Diana Ross would say, you should "pronunciate."

Dr. Phil says to give money. Remember, you'll never stand taller than when you stoop to help a child.

Dr. House, Hugh Laurie, tells us in a cockney accent that we should phone in and help the children.

Ryan says that a member of the audience can introduce the next act if they donate $50. They pan to the audience, and Jack Black is already reaching into his pocket. I say, "It's going to be Jack Black." When they "draw" Jack Black's seat number, B19, a bingo number no less, Frank, who is not watching, asks how I knew. "I was watching the show." He's more interested in getting to Lost. He is not pleased with 1-hour results shows, much less 2 hours? Frank, it's about The Children! And no one will call in to help The Children if they do a half hour results show. I've almost called in twice now and suspect I'll be suckered in by the end of the show. (Don't tell Frank, because we seriously have no twenties in our coat pockets, Ellen.)

Jack calls Ryan "Crusty," pushes him out of the way, and tells him that he will not be introducing anyone, he will be performing on AI, to be judged by this panel of judges. He performs "Kiss From a Rose," "from Batman Returns, the most sensitive of all the Batmans," and his friend from the audience already has a rose, and Jack pulls a rose from his pocket even. The judges stop him. RANDY: Yo, yo, dawg. What are you doing, dawg? JACK: I'm trying to be America's Next Top Model. I mean, Idol! But give me your true critique. RANDY: I think the stretchy pants would have helped. SARAHK: Nacho Libre was funny, that's true. But dude. I like you better in Tenacious D. JACK: You loved it. Come on Paula, give me some of that sweet love. Come on, I can take it, I've got the stones. PAULA: The School of Rock called. They want their diploma back. SARAHK: TOO MEAN! PAULA: You were crappy. Crappy. SARAHK: Could you talk like that on a real judging night? SIMON: The truth? The truth? You were better than Sanjaya. (Crowd goes wild, Sanjaya in the audience goes wild. Sanjaya's sister looks furtively at Sanjaya like, "My poor brother." But Sanjaya is just happy for 15:02.) JACK: That's your idea of a critique? If Seal were here, he would give me a real critique. He'd tell you how awesome that was. RANDY: Yo yo yo. Seal's right here. JACK: What'd you think, Seal? SEAL: (Shakes head gravely.) That was the best rendition of "Kiss From a Rose" I have ever heard.

He's so hilarious. Jack Black that is.

Blake is safe. After that commie bullcrap of last night, he is safe. Wow.

Carrie Underwood went to Africa, and there's a performance and montage of her carrying around little African children and singing "I'll Stand By You." You can download it from iTunes, and all proceeds go to the charity. I will be doing that right away. It's beautiful, acoustic guitar and violin (or fiddle, as we call it in country music) only. Wow. Contestants? That's how it's done.

Rascal Flatts performs "My Wish."

cofounder of myspace is there in the audience. Scoff!

The next segment is on a coalmining community in Kentucky. I can't write about it. Too sad. They need money. 1-877-IDOL-AID.

The crappy Ford video is "Crazy Little Thing Called Love." Then there's a montage of celebrities lipsynching "Stayin' Alive." That was actually very cute. And as much as I do not like Queen Gwyneth, she looks fantastic. For a stick. Dr. House is so funny.

Pennywise the Phil is safe. So it's down to Chris, Kiki, and Jordin.

Back to Africa and some HIV-positive kids whose parents are dead. And then people filmed with Simon and Ryan who died later.

Josh Groban sings "You Raise Me Up" with the African Children's Chorus. Those little children. They're so precious. I'm sorry, this is going to sound racist, but black children are the cutest children of all. They just are. They have the sweetest smiles and the brightest twinkles in their eyes. If you don't like it, well, BITE ME.

I just said to Frank, "Black children are just the cutest children. I hope we have black children someday." He said, "You are such a cutie head." Then he laughed and turned to me. "You actually thought that for a minute, didn't you?" "Yes. They're so adorable!" "If you really want them that badly, we can always adopt."

Kelly Clarkson is singing "Up to the Mountain," featuring Jeff Beck. I wasn't listening to the lyrics, was reading Hot Air, but she sounded awesome, whatever she sang.

Ben Stiller back on. $38K. I'm starting to think this was prerecorded, because Ellen went and announced how awesome she is by giving her amount that I don't think she should have announced on TV, because what is the point of telling everyone of your generosity?

LaKisha is safe. It's down to Jordin and Chris. If it's to be shocking, it's Jordin, but it should be Chris long before Jordin. I still think the shocker is Simon singing. Or a Simon/Paula duet with Randy playing whatever instrument he always brags about playing.

"Prepare to be startled," says Ryan. I'm sorry, I have to go throw up now. Celine really likes to duet with dead people. She's dueting with one of my all-time least favorites. Elvis. Yes, that one. Oh no. The Children, the Idol Children, are out on stage to sing backup to this filmed duet, Celine and Elvis are both projected onto stage, and the Children are standing off to the side. "If I Can Dream" is what "they" sang. Celine off in her own little Canadian world again. If I Can Have a Nightmare while awake, peeps, this is it. I swear to you, this is it.

Madonna is there with the Malauian children, the ones she didn't adopt I presume, asking you to give money.

So now we've decided that we're going to adopt an older black child someday. I want one from America, since we have plenty of American children who need our help and whatnot, and older kids don't get adopted as easier.

$30 Million almost already. Yay! Keep giving. See, I think we all wanted to hear a total first.

Who sang the final song in the finale last year? Taylor, Katharine, or Elliott? Well, hmm... the winner usually does that... right? That's all the hint you're getting.

Now Annie Lennox is on. She's singing "Bridge Over Troubled Water," and frankly, she creeps me out and has done since she left the Eurythmics. Where's Clay Aiken tonight, anyway? Wow, she's wearing an AIDS ribbon. I much prefer that cause to ManBearPig.

Aww, look at all the starving children in Africa and America and on the Indian reservation (I don't know if they like to be called "America" or not, honestly, I don't) saying "thank you." Give them money!

I'm still reeling from that Celine/Elvis thing. I need Paula's vodka. Care to share, Laker girl?

Oh hey, look! It's a results show!

Rob Schneider: "Hi, I'm Adam Sandler. And you're watching Idol Gives Back."

Chris has a mic in his hand. Jordin does not. Chris is safe, though. Jordin is also safe.

Now at one point, I did say to Frank, "The only other thing that could be a shocker is that there's a tie, and no one goes home." If only I'd written that, y'all would be telling me I'm so smart. Woulda coulda shoulda.

That was so mean to Jordin, though. Making her think she was going home. Next week, two people will go home.

They show a clip of the kids singing "American Prayer," and Bono comes in to "mentor" them. He says, "Well, you murdered that, didn't you?" Haha. Anyway, he talks to them about poverty. I actually like him. I think he has a good heart and doesn't hate people. Prove me wrong about him, but I've never heard him be venomous about people who aren't on the same page as him. He just wants to get us all on the same page. Honey over vinegar and whatnot. He's probably a little idealistic, but he doesn't come across as an evil communist. He wants to help people, and any time I've heard him speak about America, he has nothing but good things to say about us.

And the kids sing us out. I hope they wear something other than white leisure suits next week. Eek.

I hope Kiki and Blake go next week. I'm totally out on both of them.

This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

I decided to broach the subject of how SarahK is suspected of terrorism over lunch. "Thanks for the tuna fish sandwich, sweetie. So why is there surveillance video of you at a nearby nuclear power plant along with terrorists?"

"I was just after that monkey because I knew you'd never get that done. I followed him to the nuclear power plant and then snuck up on him and threw him in the reactor. Then I noticed some Arab-looking people so I shot them to be on the safe side. What do you think happened, you silly billy?"

"What I think is of no concern," I told her. "What's important is that the government thinks you were with the terrorists and are going to have trouble believing you just stumbled on a terrorist plot."

"Don't get me started on the government!" SarahK shook her fist. "So they're going to waste time hassling a good American like me while illegal immigrants are coming in over the border? You know, last week I reported to the FBI that suspicious looking Muslims were regularly meeting in a building downtown, and they need nothing about it."

"They already knew there is a Mosque in Melbourne, Florida."

"Don't you patronize me too!" I figured I best watch my words, lest she strike me. "One of these days the Mexicans and the Muslims are going to combine forces," she continued, "and then everything will be exploding and I'll be saying, 'I told you so.' By the way, I saw your doctor when I was at the power plant, and he says you have an appointment with him soon."

I furrowed my brow. "What doctor?"

"Um... I think his name was Doom."

"Doctor Doom!" I shouted. "I keep telling you he's not my physician; he's one of my arch-nemesis."

She rolled her eyes. "You can't expect me to keep track of all your arch-nemesi. Now you better learn to be nicer or I'm going to be your next arch-nemesis... and my first strike against you will be to stop putting celery in your tuna fish."

"But a tuna fish sandwich has no character without celery!" This was all very concerning. If the monkey fled to a nuclear power plant where Doctor Doom and terrorists were hiding out, there was more to all this than I ever imagined. It was time to talk to my former college roommate: Iron Man.

President Bush took a moment's break from stabbing a potato with a newly sharpened pencil to look up at his visitor. "Hey, good to see you, Snowman! Wow, you're really are looking better after that illness. I mean, you look years younger. You grew breasts, though; you might want to have the doctors look into that. Maybe it's a side effect of one of your medications."

"I'm Dana Perino; I've been filling in for Tony Snow while he recuperating. Remember?"

Bush mulled that one over. "No. Not ringing a bell. I'm going to call you 'Ari' because it's easier to remember. Whatcha need, Ari?"

"I just needed to know if you have any input before this next press conference."

Bush thought about it. "No. I don't really care about anything anymore... or what anyone does. Just say whatever you feel like, Ari. You could make stuff up; that would be fun. Oh, but make sure you make our contempt for the press clear."

"Is there any new direction you want me to take when answering questions about global warming?"

"Well... summer is coming up, so tell the press that it's supposed to warm so they aren't surprised."

Dana wrote that down. "That's actually one of the more sensible things you told me."

Bush laughed. "You have moxie. I think I'm now going to call you 'White Condi.'"

* * * *

"Harry Reid had some strong words on the war in Iraq," the anchorman said. Video of Harry Reid giving a speech was then shown.

"We've lost in Iraq! It's all over! We're losers! The troops think they're fighting, but all they're doing is losing! And they deserve to lose, because they're losers!"

"Remember when I tried to explain a chart about greenhouse gases to you? Many of you started crying."

"I'd just like to reiterate the White House's absolute contempt for you barely literate morons who ask me questions," Dana Perino told the reporters. "On a personal note, I'm starting to believe that Tony Snow's illness was simply his body protesting be subjected to such idiocy. Now, what are your questions?"

"The lights in here are too bright." one reporter said.

Dana sighed. "That's a statement, not a question."

"What are the lights in here are too bright," the reporter tried again.

"Go play in traffic," Dana said. "Next question."

"When Cheney found out he was called an 'attack dog,' he drove a car into Senator Reid's living room and broke Reid's kneecaps with a bat. Doesn't that prove Senator Reid's point?"

"Dogs can't drive cars or wield bats, so no."

"Senator Reid's knees have been broken many times by this administration, and he's now having a lot of trouble walking."

"Again, that's not a question. Furthermore, we don't care. If Democrats like walking, they should be more concerned about not making Vice President Cheney angry. We've warned you before that Cheney is not a stable man and he doesn't feel compassion or empathy."

"Representative Dennis Kucinich recently issued articles for impeachment of Cheney. He seemed to dissappear right after, but later he was found standing on Cheney's lawn in a blue coat and wearing a red pointy hat and he would not answer our questions. Do you know why?"

"Because lawn gnomes don't talk. Any other questions?"

"With visionaries like Sheryl Crow concerned about global warming, shouldn't the White House take a tougher stance?"

"Once again, I want to remind you that celebrities are exceptionally stupid people," Dana said. "I know you reporters think they're smart, but that's because you are very dumb yourselves. This is an issue of science, and thus you should all stay away from it because there is no chance of you even understanding the slightest thing about it. Remember when I tried to explain a chart about greenhouse gases to you? Many of you started crying."

"That's because you yelled!"

"Five of you asked what carbon dioxide is at different point throughout the presentation. I thought maybe raising my voice would help you remember. It was useless, though. I don't know who's idea it was that the White House should regularly answer questions from people much dumber than the average American, but this is obviously a failed concept."

"What is carbon dioxide?" a reporter asked. "I hear it's dangerous."

"Does Cheney make carbon dioxide?" another reporter asked. "If so, how does Halliburton profit off of it?"

A reporter ran forward. "Did the Bush Administration claim that Saddam had carbon dioxide so as to invade Iraq? Also, isn't it true none was ever found?"

"You are all insults to the First Amendment," Dana shouted. "I really hope you die soon in some horrible--"

"White Condi!" Bush yelled as he ran into the briefing room. "Have you seen the football?" He then noticed one of the reporters and immediately took off a shoe and started beating the reporter in the head with it. He turned back to Dana. "I recognized him from a zombie movie -- or maybe it was CNN -- so I decided I better beat him with my shoe. Now my foot is cold. Could I have one of your shoes?"

"No."

"Then you're mean!" He looked at the press. "Everyone be careful; I heard there was a carbon dioxide leak in the building."

Was painting while listening to this last night. Getting to Texas is much more important than American Idol. Season four? I might have taken a break. For Pennywise and Kiki's breasts? Not so much. I did take the time to vote to help the children in Africa. After all, I was touched seeing Simon do all but cry. I'll bet he even cried when the cameras weren't on him. He has an image to uphold. But see, y'all? Told you he has a heart.

Oh, see, now I'm actually watching it, and I don't want to. It's too sad. SING! Too SAD!

01 Chris is singing "Change the World" by Clapton. It was understated and nice but a little too whiny and maybe too underwhelming. He looked good. RANDY: Yo, dawg, for the first time in a long time, you're in it to win it. Fly jacket, too. Fly, fly. PAULA: Great song choice, I'm really proud of you, really exciting. SIMON: Competition really starts tonight. This kinda reminded me of the first time we saw you and said you had a lot of potential. Good vocal, much more soul, it was sexy. I think you did really well. SARAHK: I think they overpraised you a bit, but it was good.

Ryan said something about myspace, but I scoff at myspace. That's right, I said it, I went there. I scoff!

I'm glad they're not just focusing on Katrina victims in America. Remember back when there were other poor people in America besides Katrina victims? I'm glad they noted that for the people watching who don't get that.

02 Melinda is singing "There Will Come a Day" by Faith Hill. Hmm, not one I ever would have expected sung on American Idol. Look, she's back to modest, looks great. Her hair is fantastic. I LOVE the dress. I hope singing about faith doesn't hurt her. Whoa, in the kitchen last night, this was really good, but honestly I had her fairly far behind Jordin, squarely in second place. Now she's in a very close second, because wow. I just got chills, dawgs. That was amazing. I haven't even been amazed by her recently, but whew! Yo. Her line was busy when I tried voting for her last night, BTW. RANDY: You're the resident pro. You just so dope! I don't even know what to say anymore, you have arrived! Melinda is here! PAULA: There's no one like you! You're magical! SIMON: You're not going to look surprised, are you? Promise? What I loved was that it didn't seem like a copycat performance, the second half of the song was outstanding, blah blah, great. SARAHK: Sorry, I lost track. We loved her, right? She was the stuff, yes? Yes. RYAN: Simon, did you lose a button? SARAHK: I believe what Ryan is trying to say is that he has no chest hair and would like to borrow some.

03 Blake says the biggest sacrifice he's had to make is missing his family and friends. My answer to that question would have been so different. No offense to family and friends. "My biggest sacrifice competing here, in California, in American Idol is that they don't let me carry my guns around to protect myself, and I have weak arms, but now that I'm famous, maybe someone will stalk me and I can get a permit." So Blake is singing a song that Frank and I both spewed at the same time, "Ugh, I hate this song." "Imagine" by John Lennon. I'm not such a fan of communism and songs about imagining that there's no heaven and no religion and what a wonderful world it would be if we had no borders, no God, and yay! Communism! Have I vomited yet? Yuck. Anyway, so Blake has forever lost any chance of getting my vote by singing one of the stupidest songs ever written and pegging himself as a communist. Let me try to be objective. You know what I imagine when I imagine no countries? The EU. Not warm fuzzies you're getting from me, Blake. NOT WARM FUZZIES! "I hope some day you'll join us." Hair is fine. Outfit is bland, beige is not his color, corduroy again? Can we try a different fabric? Beautiful tone in your voice, incredibly boring performance. RANDY: Great choice of song. Amazing, amazing song. SARAHK: You know it's about communism, right? RANDY: On the performance side, dude, it was just kind of alright for me, dawg. It was just ok for me. Just keeping it real. PAULA: It was the first real sensitive, emotional performance we've seen from you, Blake, and that goes a long way. SARAHK: Not the first time he's tried to be sensitive and emotional, and he failed at this. You know this is about communism, right? And you know that communism is evil, right? SIMON: This is tricky. You've chosen one of *the* big songs of all time. You felt sincere, but it didn't really go anywhere. But I think the most important thing is that you were sincere, so good.

First we hear about the possibility that Fred Thompson may run for president.

Then Sanjaya gets sent home on AI.

Now Rosie O'Doughnut is leaving "the View".

It truly is morning in America once again.

Fred Thompson's wit is so sharp that it can split apart atoms.

Witches, however, are now ok, as the US Department of Veterans Affairs has agreed to allow Wiccans who served in the US military to have a pentacle emblem engraved on their government-issued tombstones, thus bringing to 39 the number of religious symbols which are officially authorized on veterans' grave markers.

Other bizarre religious cult symbols, however, were rejected by the VA, and are shown below:

The decision regarding four more cult symbols is still pending, although personally I really hope these make the cut:

I'll let you know if any of these get selected.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that Hot Air turned one today; it's certainly the blog I frequent the most now. If you don't check out Hot Air every day (or more), you're a loser!

This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

On the way to pick up groceries for my wife, my vehicle was rammed by another car and then I was abducted as a hood was thrown over my head. I guess that's better than being abducted on the way home from the grocery store because who would know what would happen to the perishables.

When the hood was pulled off, I was bound to a chair in a darkroom. In front of me stood a man who looked in dire need of sleep and a razor. "I'm Jack Bauer with CTU."

"I'm Guybrush Threepwood and I want to be a pirate," I answered, not hiding my annoyance. "What the hell is this all about?"

"There was a terrorist attack on a nearby power plant." He held up some pictures. "Recognize these people?"

I looked them over. They were quite terroristy looking. "Last time I was at a mosque, I was pretty drunk, so I probably won't remember names. Twenty bucks says at least four of them are named 'Mohammad,' though."

"Do you recognize her?" He held up another picture -- apparently from surveillance cams at the power plant. It was of SarahK.

I quickly got over the shock. "I can't expect me to keep track of every blond woman I've been around. Why exactly do you think I, John Q. Public, would have anything to do with any of this?"

"We know you are an accomplice of this woman. You had her eliminate the other terrorists to try and hide the evidence. Unfortunately for you, the bomb never went off and we know that NTM Publishing Corp. funded the..."

"Corp.?" I interrupted. "I own NTM Publishing Inc."

The agent checked some documents. "Oh. Looks like we made a mistake." He cut the rope. "You can go."

"Don't I get an apology?"

"We don't have time, sir. There are terrorists attacks going on right now and--"

"So you're telling my you have time to explain to me why you can't apologize to me, but you don't have time to actually apologize."

He glared at me. "Fine... Sorry!"

"See; that wasn't so hard. Can I get your insurance information? You did hit me earlier."

It took a while to get all the information I needed, but after about an hour I let him go. Still, there was the question of why my wife was at a nuclear power plant with terrorists. When I get home, Lucy will have some splain'n to do.

* John Edwards talks about two Americas and the divide between the haves and the have-nots while building himself a house the size of Rhode Island and getting $400 beauty treatments he charges to his campaign.

How dare you imply I'm like other people!

* John Travolta also tells us to cut back on our consumption while owning jumbo jets for personal use.

* Sheryl Crow tells us to use only one square of toilet paper while dragging around an entire convoy for her personal use to each concert.

* Rosie O'Donnell used to crusade against guns while having her own children protected by armed body guards.

So what's it with liberals and hypocrisy? And not just hypocrisy, but super-mega hypocrisy -- like openly running a brothel while lecturing people on the problem of promiscuity type hypocrisy. Many people wonder how liberals can be such flaming hypocrites and lecturing other while not even taking a second to look at themselves. It very simple how they do it: They're elitists.

See, whenever they say people should do something, they assume everyone understands that it's implied that they mean "little, unimportant people." When they see the public, they see themselves as something completely separate from the unwashed masses. Elitist liberals can't comprehend why anyone would turn a critical eye to them when they are out to help and enlighten us. Why bite the hand that feeds you wisdom?

I think they should be treated separate from regular society too... in that they should all be locked up in a prison in Antarctica. Some think it's wrong to lock up people for their viewpoints, but that's not the case here. We're locking them up for their viewpoints and being insufferable, arrogant pricks. They will also be washed by being sprayed with hoses. And maybe beaten. Would beating them be too harsh? I dunno; let's beat them just to be on the safe side.

Now, do I have to fly to Antarctica and beat them myself or be accused of hypocrisy? If so, let's just forget the whole idea.

Okay. Maybe not happy.

On this day in 1915, 1.5 million Armenians were slaughtered, left to starve, or thrown out of their country.

It was almost as bad as Guantanamo Prison.

I was reading somewhere that no US President has ever actually used the "G" word. I couldn't help but wonder why. Are we afraid to offend Turkey because they are an ally?

After all, we are allies with Germany and we openly acknowledge the Holocaust.

It's just not right.

Anyway, to all our readers who are Armenian, we at IMAO would like to say that the slaughter of so many lives byt the then Ottoman Empire was horrible.

Yes, senseless slaughter is horrible. It's controversial, but we at IMAO are taking a stand.

I'm going to be getting a CCW permit (one of the few liberties secure in Minnesota), and I'm looking for suggestions concerning the type of weapon I should try out/purchase. I think I would prefer an ankle holster. I would prefer something discrete, though capable of taking down a reasonably motivated assailant with one or two shots. It would be nice if it also was a decent target practice weapon. I would not anticipate any need to quickly load and re-load. I would like a rock solid safety mechanism, though not too difficult to disengage when needed. What is your opinion?

What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? Fred Thompson appears out of nowhere and beats the crap out of both of them.

Don't forget to vote for your favorite pres. candidate FRED THOMPSON on the Pajamas Media straw poll thingie over there on the left sidebar. No, your other left.

Also, if you are so inclined. there's a website to get involved in the grassroots effort to elect everyone's favorite super human, Fred Thompson, to the office of POTUS.

This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

I didn't feel I had time to celebrate the death of Aquaman with the monkey still living, so the weekend was spent designing a bullet apt for killing a monkey. The goal was for the bullet to fragment inside the monkey shredding its insides. The monkey would then vomit up its liquefied organs while I laugh and sip a martini.

As I was perfecting the round this morning and cleaning up the watermelons I was using as test subjects, the doorbell rang. "Someone is at the door for you!" SarahK shouted.

I hate having my genius interrupted. "Who?"

"Someone in a bat costume."

"Man or woman?"

"Man."

Batman! "I'm coming." There Batman stood at our entryway with his tiresome grim expression. "When did you start using the doorbell?"

"I've been getting in trouble lately for no-knock raids. We need to talk."

"I'm sure of it." I stared at him a moment. "I'm used to meeting you in a dark alleyway where you can be a bit intimidating. In full light, though, you just look ridiculous. Your accessory belt really does bring out the color in your blouse, though."

"That's uncalled for. I get enough people trying to imply I'm gay with the whole Robin thing, so I don't need..."

"I really don't need the story of your life," I interrupted. "What are you here for?"

"Aquaman has gone missing."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Did you try checking the ocean."

"This is serious! He was a founding member of the Justice League! Also, there is evidence of foul play."

But I covered my tracks! "What evidence?"

"A body was found floating in the harbor in Miami. From how bloated the corpse was, they thought he must have been dead for weeks. Then they realized it was Rosie O'Donnell and she's still alive."

"Is she talking?"

"Nothing sensible so far."

I grinned. "That's our Rosie. So, how long do you have to put up this pretense of an investigation?"

He was quiet a moment. "The others aren't going to let this go."

"And I don't care. I need you influence in getting the moon nuked."

"It will look suspicious to have another vote on that matter so soon after--"

I backhanded him. "Cowboy up, Batman, and nuke the moon! This is a matter of national security, and I don't need pathetic excuses!"

He glared at me. "Fine, but one of these days it's going to come down between you and me."

"Whatever. Just move your gay little car before the home owners association complains about it being parked on the street."

He stormed out and I slammed the door.

"Be careful if you fight him," SarahK warned. "He looks sneaky."

"I'm not scared of flying rodents or those who dress as them. I need to get back to working on my monkey killing bullet."

"Maybe you should forget about that and work on other things. It's just a monkey."

Just a monkey! I stared at her. Something was up. "What did you do?"

"I made a pie!" She took a pie out of the oven. It was apple and an obvious omen of bad things to come.

The only thing she ever wanted to fight is a price increase at the hair salon.

But then you'd be wrong and stupid.

The fact is war is a serious thing, and the last thing Democrats need during a presidential election is a reminder that there are serious things in the world. Their issues are things like healthcare and minimum wage -- things that we are now convinced are very very important even though the human race has survived without them for thousands of years. In fact, the entire Democrat platform is of similarly unserious things. Important things like killing bad people -- a function of government dating back to first ant colony -- is not something they ever want to have to deal with. Barack Obama is pissing his pants right now over the idea that, if he wins the presidency, the first things he'll have to deal with is an actual war. They want to be like Europe: Concerned about useless things and looking civilized until they are inevitably overthrown by barbarians.

So expect increasingly desperate measures to get rid of the war before 2008. They want things to be like 1992 when Americans were carefree, ignorant of evil, and thought they could indulge themselves by electing a lecherous hillbilly who promised them shiny baubles. Don't worry, Democrats, we'll get there again one day; some more scary people just need to die first.

Sheryl Crow demands a limit on toilet paper.

But that doesn't mean she can't sing about the glory days or a roll-a-pottybreak, right?

I would have given you all of my roll but there's someone who's being a butthole and she's taking almost all that I've got but if you want, I'll try to wipe again baby I'll try to wipe again but I know

The first butt is the deepest, baby I know
The first butt is the deepest
'cause when it comes to switching rolls, she's cursed
when it comes to leaving seats up, he's worst
but when it comes to leaving floaters, she's first
that's how I know

The first butt is the deepest, baby I know
The first butt is the deepest

I still want you by my toilet's side
just to help me dry the tears that I've cried
cause I'm sure gonna get some two-ply
and if you want, I'll try to wipe again
but baby, I'll try to wipe again, but I know

The first butt is the deepest, baby I know
The first butt is the deepest
'cause when it comes to switching rolls, she's cursed
when it comes to leaving seats up, he's worst
but when it comes to leaving floaters, she's first
that's how I know

The first butt is the deepest, baby I know
The first butt is the deepest

I was asked to guess blog at Right Wing News, so I just put up a post there about how John Edwards can get rid of his prissy image. I'll post here soon as well as long as none of you nag me about it.

Betsy Angert of Daily Kos has posted a long and emotional eulogy lamenting the untimely passing of Seung-Hui Cho, the "loveable and fragile individual" who shot 32 people at Virginia Tech. As teary-eyed as this tribute made me, it just didn't seem to be enough. I mean, yes, Cho was - technically - a victim of gun violence, too, but in the bigger picture, he was so much more.

First, we should consider Cho's thoughtful, giving nature. Just think - if it weren't for Cho, no one would know any of his victims' names. But thanks to his actions, those 32 names will be enshrined and memorialized forever. When the Indianapolis Colts won the Superbowl, did people start posting names of the entire starting line-up? Heck no! Cho has brought more recognition to his classmates - most of whom he hardly even knew - than Peyton Manning did for all his teammates who made Indy's victory possible. Unlike this lauded superstar athlete, Cho was an unselfish man.

But he did so much more than bring the spotlight to 32 unknowns. He took a stand for the oppressed underclass of which he was a part. In a country that hates everyone except white people, he had the courage to be openly Asian - something that no one else besides Michelle Malkin has ever done successfully in our nation's hateful history.

In addition, by his courageous trigger-pullings, he became a true crusader - bringing attention to America's numerous flaws. Of course, he didn't actually MEAN to do this, but when it comes to doing the right thing, the brave thing, the courageous thing, it's well-accepted that intentions matter more than actual results. And if, perhaps, he didn't actually HAVE any good intentions, still it's only fair that he should get credit for them anyway, isn't it? After all, there's an agenda involved here, and that's what REALLY matters.

Here are some reasons we all owe Cho a debt of thanks.

He pointed out the need for stricter gun control laws - Cho did his shooting with a .22 pistol and 9mm pistol. Notice that he did NOT use a machine gun, assault rifle, or even a nuclear missile. That's because those things are ILLEGAL! These shootings are inarguable proof that we need to ban smaller calibers, too.

He pointed out the need for Federal Arts Funding reform - During his time at VT, Cho poured his blackly withered soul into writing a grammatically atrocious 10-page play that was completely lacking in plot, theme, dialogue, and coherance. Yet this brilliant avant-garde masterpiece was never produced for the stage. Sure, it was no Piss Christ, but it's still a shame that our government stood by and did nothing, allowing this sparkling gem of obscenity, pedophilia, and murder to languish uncelebrated.

He pointed out the need for health care reform - Dozens of people knew there was something wrong with Cho. He didn't socialize, he mumbled to himself in class, and took cellphone upskirt pics of his teachers - all the classic signs of dangerous psychosis and/or Star Trek fandom. But how was he to get the help he needed in a country so primitive that it doesn't offer free universal mental health care coverage? I guess those who claim that it's somehow less urgent than covering physical ailments can just shut the hell up now.

He pointed out the need for immigration reform - America has long been a nation of immigrants, but lately our racist government has completely closed down our borders, refusing to let anyone into the country except for the sane, the employable, and the WHITE! WHITE! WHITE! But if we were to set aside our debased racial prejudices, our country could reap the benefits of entire diverse communities of unassimilated, unbalanced, and unwhite peoples of colors. These groups could then give one another the sort of emotional and interpersonal understanding that only those who have lived the horror of brown eyes, straight black hair, and indecipherably thick accents can give. The sort of understanding that our oppressive, patriarchal, racist government denied to poor Cho.

Finally, he pointed out the need for wage reform - Cho's parents both had to work 14 hours a day to earn the money to put him through college. Why was this? Mostly because Bush hates yellow people. But also because not one single job in America pays more than $5.15 an hour. If only this nation were sensible enough to institute a fair, livable, minimum wage (ten, twenty, fifty bucks an hour - whatever). If there were that one small fairness in this country, Cho's parents could've afforded to work less and spent quality time with their son. The could've listened to his concerns, empathized with his feelings, and taught him important life lessons. Like "when planning a shooting spree, always start by shooting yourself first to save money on ammo".

If only Cho had saved more money on ammo.

So sad.

What would prove that the United States of America is the greatest nation to ever have existed? If Fred Thompson decides were worthy enough to have him as our leader.

New plan for future space launches: Have Fred Thompson stand by the launch pad and glare angrily at the rocket so it will reach escape velocity out of necessity.

Fred Thompson's firearm collection is so awesome that it's illegal in all fifty states and received a condemnation from the U.N.

Since the Democrats have been fighting on the side of the terrorists for years, I assume that Harry Reid's announcement that "this war is lost" is refers to how things are going for them.

SarahK put Frank to work today. There will be no State of the Frank Report. But he'll tell you about his day again Monday. I'm sure he'll get into some crazy shenanigans over the weekend.

In light of the Johnson Space Center shooting, I'd just note that visitors have to go through a metal detector to get into Kennedy Space Center. I have no idea if employees (such as engineers) have to go through metal detectors as well, though.

I really don't see how restrictions on guns in certain areas does anything other than put people at risk if no method is in place to catch a malicious person trying to sneak a gun in.

As a side note, Disney World just searches any bags or purses people bring in, but there is nothing to stop someone from concealing a gun on their person. The only tourist destinations I know of that have metal detectors are places that are federally owned (KSC, the White House, and the FBI headquarters tour).

Since Harry Reid is declaring things such as that the war is lost (Hear that, terrorists? You won! Yay!), I'd like to declare some things.

I declare that Harry Reid has no penis and is, in fact, a little girl.

I declare that Ted Kennedy is nothing buy the giant Jabba the Hutt puppet from Return of the Jedi placed in a suit.

I declare that Nancy Pelosi is nothing but an animatronic made by stretching an old piece of leather on a plaster skull.

Frank and I will be away from the blog for a while. We have to go have 2nd Amendment sex now.

(via Hot Air.)

Mary Katharine, it's a hate crime for you to even sit down next to a Muslim.

The temperature of Fred Thompson's icy gaze is negative twenty degrees kelvin.

This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

I told my wife I was off to implement my plan to kill Aquaman and that I'd be home by dinner. She told me not to bother returning if Aquaman wasn't dead and that we'd be having pork chops tonight.

The drive to Miami was uneventful as ever as I only had the flat, barren land of Florida to look at. Still, I could only assume Aquaman was following figuring -- quite rightly -- that I was up to something.

When I got to Miami, I took some evasive turns towards the docks. I only had to lose Aquaman for a short bit. Sure no one was following me, I parked near my destination. I took a small hot dog stand out of the back of my SUV and placed it on the designated spot at the end of the dock. Next to it I put a sign saying "Free Hot Dogs." Then I disappeared into a nearby building where I could watch the scene through a window.

I had a contact pass out fliers to fatties on the beach. Now I just had to wait for one to take the bait. The important thing was that there would be no connection between me and this victim.

Rosie O'Donnell came clomping down the dock. "Hot dogs!" she bellowed and charged the food. When she reached the hot dog stand, the dock broke beneath her and she plopped into the water. It didn't take long for her to notice the dorsal fins circling her. "Someone save me before Bush uses this as an excuse to have a war with Iran!"

I had another contact chum the waters here since I first came up with the plan. Now all that was left was Aquaman to attempt his usual impotent heroics.

He didn't disappoint.

"Don't panic!" he yelled as he ran for the water. "I'll get you out of there!"

"Bush is doing this to me because I know too much!" Rosie burbled.

"I highly doubt you know much of anything, so remain still." Aquaman jumped in the water.

I activated my device. It made no sound; only a little green LED indicated it was working (I didn't feel like spending the extra money for a blue one). Basically it just sent out garbage on a specific frequency.

A very specific frequency.

Fear slowly crept onto Aquaman's face as he realized that, for the first time in his life, the fish were not responding to him. The sharks kept closing in on him, and he was so shocked he didn't even seem to know what to do. He finally struck at one, but another came from behind. Finally, he went under water and a splotch of crimson bubbled to the surface.

Thus ends the story of Aquaman. All that's left now is to see how much I can get for a fish telepathy jammer on eBay.

The Democrats are still trying to pass their war funding bill that includes a date for surrender. Other than that, their's quite a lot of pork and other objectionable spending. Some examples:

OBJECTIONABLE EXPENDITURES IN THE EMERGENCY WAR FUNDS BILL

$13 million for huge "Mission Failure" Democrat rally.

$80,000 to get a passed out Ted Kennedy off of the Air and Space Museum roof.

$0.25 to give to troops complaining about the Democrats' support so they can call someone who cares.

$5 million for posturing about doing something in Dafur.

$10 million for fact-finding mission on penis-enlargement spam.

$8 million for research of when it is appropriate to refer to women as "hos."

$20 million for floral patterns on tanks so they seem happier.

$5 million to buy foam rocks for Palestinians to relive Mideast crisis. (Ed. Note: That one might work)

$1 million for poll on whether Harry Reid's tie makes him look gay.

$300 million for weapons for insurgents to make sure the U.S. doesn't show favoritism.

$3 for a bag of Doritos in case they get the Democrats get the munchies.

Polls show that a record number of Americans are against the war. Simple solution if you don't like the war: Don't fight in it! Seriously, though, one huge difference between Iraq and Vietnam is how most Americans aren't affected by the war at all. There's no chance of them or their children randomly getting called out to fight, and most don't even seem to know anyone in the military. For most people, the war is simply an abstraction that they know of from a few snippets on the news. They don't like the war... but they also don't like clam shell packaging. It's not like they're going to do anything about it.

Fred Thompson plans to make it an allowable interrogation technique to rip out a terrorists spine and beat him with it.

(for Lynn)

HuffPo's token Righty, Greg Gutfield, posted a list of things that Democrats secretly fear. Lots of good stuff there, like:

Fear that even if the democrats win the 08 election, Europeans will still look down on us and Muslims will still want to kill us.
Fear that capitalism actually works better than any other economic system
Fear that America really is the freest country in the world
Fear that going it alone when you think you're right is more moral than trying to build a coalition with dictators, thieves and cowards.

The comments to Greg's post were laced with typical leftist insanity, BDS, and wishes for Greg's swift-yet-painful death. But nobody did a list for Republicans.

Geez, how many times do I have to do the heavy lifting for these losers?

So here's a list of things Republicans fear, as I would imagine that a short-sighted, logic-impaired, humor-tarded liberal might write them while maintaining a straight face (albeit one almost literally glowing with smug, self-satisfied hubris):

* Fear that socialized medicine will NOT completely destroy capitalism like Republican doomsayers keep bleating.

* Fear that America could actually take lessons in freedom from countries that don't torture or execute their citizens.

* Fear that the puppets America's installed in the Iraqi government will eventually bite the hand that feeds them, just like Saddam, and just like Osama, who both used to be our pals but didn't stay bought.

* Fear that your "innocent jokes" reveal your true racist nature.

* Fear that no one's buying your jingoistic propaganda any more.

* Fear that it isn't possible to get your piece of the American dream because the playing field really ISN'T level.

* Fear that there are actually things the government can do to level the playing field.

* Fear that when people "speak truth to power", YOU'RE the one they're talking to, and that you ought to listen.

* Fear that Fox isn't fair and balanced.

* Fear that Dan Rather's memos were real.

* Fear that Clinton's impeachment was a substanceless case of political grandstanding.

* Fear that an impeachment case against Bush wouldn't be.

* Fear that school voucher programs would hurt the children who couldn't afford to use them.

* Fear that the reality-based community really is.

* Fear that you're only echoing Republican talking points, and have no original thoughts of your own.

* Fear that the Palestinians have good reasons to fight against Israel.

* Fear that gay marriage is less of a threat to the institution than heterosexual abuse and adultery.

* Fear that enforcing cookie-cutter, one-size-fits-all educational standards will not do anything to get at-risk students the help they need, even though they make you feel better.

* Fear that Communism can't be as bad as Joe McCarthy & Ronald Reagan told you it was, as proven by the fact that the Chinese economy is growing three times faster than America's.

* Fear that, by laughing at Al Gore, you're giving a death sentence to your children and your children's children.

* Fear that oil doesn't necessarily have to be the world's main source of energy.

* Fear that oil isn't something that innocent people have to die for.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go take a long, long shower.

Reacting to the Virginia Tech massacre, The View co-host Rosie O'Donnell called on Americans to end their love affair with Koreans. "A Korean is responsible for the biggest murder spree in American history, therefore, to prevent the recurrence of similar crimes in the future, we must immediately ban all Koreans." "At the very least," proclaimed O'Donnell, "our leaders must pass legislation mandating the immediate utilization of safeguards that prevent Koreans from falling into the wrong hands and killing again."

I was in the kitchen washing walls, caulking, spackling, taping--the norm--last night, so I was too busy to write about AI. If I remember correctly, LaKisha was the worst of the bunch, and I agreed with what the judges said. Granted, before she sang, I was saying to Frank, "Eh, this is the most uninspiring night yet. It's boring without Gina, and I don't even have Haley's Hoo-hah to hate on, so I probably won't even blog it at all." Then I heard that Kiki was going to sing "Jesus Take the Wheel". Ok, first off, that's the song that went through my head on 2/26/07 when I had my spinout on I-95 and almost got flattened by a spinout. I'm not lying, instead of a gospel hymn like "Paradise Valley" or "We Shall Assemble", I got Carrie Underwood in my head. And now Kiki wants to go ruin my epiphany-life-change song? It's a good thing I didn't see the swinging knockers while listening to her butchering of it, or I would have to start withholding that number.

Anyway, we're on our way out the door to Bible study, peeps, so here's my quick order, from what I can remember. It was a better night than usual, but it was still not worth leaving the kitchen for. Ouch. I can't even remember all their names. That's gotta sting, kids.

Jordin, but she did have some pitch problems. I guess I wasn't jumping up and down since I've done better on that song. Not many times, and I probably couldn't do better in front of millions of viewers on this week in history on that stage, but I'm a harsh critic. Oh, but she's only 17. Hey, I put her in 1st place, what do y'all want?
Melinda
Blake
Phil
Chris
Sanjaya
LaKisha

Going home? Chris.

This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

"Why haven't you killed the monkey?"

"Why haven't you killed Aquaman?"

"Why haven't you nuked the moon?"

"Shouldn't you be working on killing the monkey now?"

"When are going to write another 'Know Thy Enemy'?"

My wife's questions were beginning to vex me. "While Aquaman is watching me, it's too risky to take on the monkey. Also, Aquaman is using his vote at the Justice League to keep me from nuking the moon. So, when I take care of Aquaman, I can nuke the moon and kill the monkey."

SarahK practiced throwing her kitchen knife at a dartboard. "You're going to put the monkey on the moon?"

I set down my soldering iron. "No; that's completely separate. I'll devise some other scheme later to take care of the monkey."

"What's wrong with that box trap you made?"

"The monkey is obviously too smart for that seeing how he outsmarted me the other day."

She laughed that mocking laughs of hers, and I felt my soul shrink. "That doesn't mean he's very smart; the dog outsmarted you earlier today."

Rowdi sat nearby still wearing my hat, her tongue hanging out both to help regulate her body temperature and to ridicule me. The dog would gets hers after Aquaman and the monkey.

"So what are you making there?" SarahK asked.

"It's basically a powerful signal broadcaster." I soldered a few more wires. "It's far too complex for a woman's brain to comprehend."

"Whatever; I'm getting annoyed by all this." She flung a steak knife across the room, hitting the dartboard dead center. "Why don't I just kill the monkey for you so it actually gets done."

"No!" I pounded the table with my fist. "It's my kill! I don't need you killing my monkeys, woman!"

"You're a silly billy." She pulled out a gun and shot the dartboard. "If I see any monkeys, I'm going to kill them. That's my policy... same as with the homeless."

I just grunted and continued my work. The most ingenious superhero death was almost ready.

Tomorrow Aquaman dies.

If I had to put my finger on the main thing wrong with society today, it's that we don't make use of rockets enough to solve our daily problems.

If you need to put a bow tie on an aardvark, make sure to set aside at least an hour.

They say let sleeping dogs lie, but kicking the small ones is cheap entertainment.

Its a fact of life that people are going to try to stab you.

Babies know the content of your soul. That's why they cry.

Ugly people are not worth talking to.

The faster you drive, the quicker you'll sober.

You can survive for about 36 days on just Tootsie Pops and Mountain Dew. After that, subjects tend to have organ failure.

Catching a machete thrown at you is about as hard as it looks.

No argument can beat a hammer.

Liberals aren't very gung ho on fighting terrorists because secretly they also want to kill gays and the Jews.

Bears only attack the immoral.

Wearing a black ninja outfit and ambushing someone from a tree is not an excuse for sloppy kung fu techniques.

Why does Dr. Gregory House need a cane to walk? Because he once cut Fred Thompson off in traffic.

 In the wake of the Virginia Tech shootings, I've seen a lot of people putting the blame on guns. "We need more gun control laws", they say... "If we didn't have so many guns in this country, this never would've happened", they say... "Stupid Second Amendment! I'll get you for this!" they say.

 Slow down there, Sparky! The fact is, guns were already prohibited on the Virginia Tech campus. Having another anti-gun law would be as pointless as outlawing murder, and I don't hear anybody calling for that.

The truth is that these anti-gun wackos are barking up the wrong constitutional doctrine. The problem lies with the First Amendment, not the Second.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with speeching and pressing and religioning and redressing. It's that assembling thing that makes these killing sprees possible. When people get together in large groups, all they're really doing is providing an irresistable target-rich environment, enticing psychopaths to start blasting away. It's like wearing a short skirt and skimpy top while walking down a street - might as well hand out engraved invitations.

Oh, I know what you're going to say. "We need the right of assembly. Groups of angry citizens mobbing together is one of the last lines of defense against a tyrannical government that oversteps it's bounds".

Feh.

Worked really good for the Chinese in Tiananmen Square, didn't it? What are you going to do? Stop a tank by standing in front of it holding a couple shopping bags? That might've worked 200 years ago, but tanks were much smaller then.

The fact is, freedom of assembly is just an archaic holdover from a bygone era. In today's modern age, people have NO REASON to physically get together in large groups. Technology has provided us with e-mail, and telephones, and blogs, and on-line shopping. Everything that used to require physical proximity can now be accomplished virtually. The problem is that our Consitution is just as archaic as the ridiculous "freedom" it enshrines. It needs to be updated to reflect modern realities.

However, Constitutional amendments are notoriously hard to pass (heck the last one took over 200 years), and the fact is, we don't need to do away with public assembly COMPLETELY - be kinda hard to get laid that way - we just need to modify our outdated notions a bit, and live within a more reasonable framework of interpersonal gathering modalities. You know, pass a few prudent laws that sensibly restrict, rather than repeal.

For example, it's tragically obvious at this point that allowing people to assemble for the purpose of education has - without exception - ended in mass murder every time it's been tried. Why not have virtual classrooms? Each student and teacher securely locked away in their own homes, learning via some sort of Skype & Webcam arrangement? Can't have a school shooting without a school, and no one's ever been murdered in the safety of their own home. If only we as a nation had taken this logical and obvious approach earlier! How many lives would've been saved?

Of course, this is only a first step. The sad fact is that other forms of assembly would remain to be dealt with. Work places, malls, parks, orgies, Tupperware parties... all knowingly flaunting their tempting, shootable flesh, driving the disturbed among us mad with unquenchable desire... eventually something would have to be done about those, too. Maybe some judicious amendment-editing IS in order. Even a simple addition like "right of the people peaceably to assemble - one to a room" might be enough.

Anyway, thank you for reading, and please support this common sense approach to tragedy prevention.

Harvey is a non-disabled Navy veteran accidentally hired to fill an affirmative action quota at IMAO.us. He is also the author of such books as "Get Out of Here! This Is MY Room!" and "Should the Right To Assemble Include C++?".

This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

Despite my injuries, I had important work to do. Aquaman and the monkey would have to wait for their deaths. I took the bag lunch of peanut butter and jelly and Doritos that SarahK prepared for me and headed for my car while checking the trees for movement. Aquaman was nearby watching me, but I paid him no heed.

The drive to Kennedy Space Center was uneventful, but I was in for quite a shock once I got there.

"We're canceling the nuclear strike against the moon?!" I shouted in disbelief, temporarily losing my composure. "Has the administration decided it now hates America, freedom, and apple pie? As long as we're being a bunch of compromising wussies, why don't we just send all the terrorists fruit baskets?"

I had been working on this project for some time. I have been paid well for it, but this was also my baby. You can't imagine how it feels to be told that their going to take away your baby and explode him in an island off of Puerto Rico.

"The President decided that, since this is a non-critical nuclear strike, we should run it by the Justice League," the general there explained. "They voted to stop our strike if we launch it."

I couldn't believe it. "The same Justice League that voted against helping in the Iraq war because it was 'too political'? Why in the world are we even still talking to them? We are nuking the moon for national security purposes -- to show our power -- how can we let some super losers get in the way?"

The general looked defeated. "I'm sorry, but the President has decided not to go against them."

I sat down and thought for a moment. "What was the vote?"

"It was a split vote: three to four. Batman, the Green Lantern, and Martian Manhunter voted to support the strike while Superman, Wonder Woman, the Flash, and Aquaman voted against."

Aquaman! I couldn't believe they actually gave him a vote on their council. Then again, France gets a vote at the U.N. This was too much; first Aquaman was bothering me in my personal life, and now he was bothering me in my work -- preventing America from asserting its power from nuking the moon. "If something happened to one of the voting members, how would that affect the vote?"

The general looked concerned. "What are you planning?"

"Never mind that; just answer the question."

"They'd appoint a new voting member... most likely Black Canary."

And she is a hawk (pardon the pun). It seemed this would be a problem that would solve itself when I took care of Aquaman. It also meant more focus would be on me when Aquaman is found dead. I'll have to be extra careful in this operation.

The peanut butter and jelly sandwich and Doritos were yummy. I never get tired of that.

Ex-U.S. military officials testified at U.N. Security Council on Climate Change that global warming could mean more conflict and war in the world. Apparently we've decided to stop pretending this is a scientific issue and just let everyone get hysterical about the temperature possibly rising a degree or two. Thus, here are more groups testifying on the dangers of global warming:

MORE TESTIMONY ABOUT GLOBAL WARMING FROM JOBLESS, NON-CLIMATOLOGISTS

* According to former teamsters, global warming could cause an increase in naps and surliness among union workers.

* According to former police officers, global warming could cause more people to tan and thus have dark enough skin to require harassment by the man.

This is a globe. Try not to warm it.

* According to former firemen, global warming could mean shorter walks for firehouse dalmatian because of the threat of heat exhaustion. Not having his exercise, the dog will then chew on furniture. Furniture replacement will then increase their budget by 5%. Global warming could also cause more fires, but that's okay because they have protective hats.

* According to former ice cream truck drivers, global warming could mean a huge increase in ice cream. Man they sure wish they hadn't had their trucks confiscated by the state for the multiple DUIs.

* According to former ninjas, global warming could mean a decrease in foliage making it harder for them to ambush people from trees.

* According to the guy who used to sell pickles on the side of the road, global warming could cause a 13% reduction in the cucumber crop. He also warns of the adverse health effect of global warming and how that can be prevented by drinking pickle juice.

* According to former serial killers, global warming could mean more talking dogs urging people to kill.

* According to former Canadian, global warming could have an effect on ice which is important to ice hockey (hence the name). This would mean a huge increase in Canadian suicides because what else would they have left to do?

* According to former bloggers, global warming could mean less cats and thus a decrease in the quantity of Friday, cat-themed blogging. According to former blog-readers, that would be awesome!

I am quite astounded by the lengths to which one company will go to collect on an imagined bill of $38.95.

Back in July of 2005, I was in need of a new suit. Being that I rarely go out for the purpose of buying clothes (my wardrobe consists solely of shirts I've received as Christmas or birthday gifts), I went to Men's Wearhouse and splurged a bit and purchased a couple suits and a number of dress shirts as well as a pair of deer-skin shoes. I got a discount if I used their credit, so I opened an account with them. Before any interest accrued, I paid off the bill in full.

All good so far. Well, for a little over a year, I made no more use of the credit I got from Men's Wearhouse. Then, in August 2006, they sent me a check for $38.95. Having done nothing with my account for so long, it seemed it must have been some error. Still, it's been many many years since I cared about a sum of money less than forty dollars, so I just let SarahK file it away.

A little while later I received a bill from Men's Wearhouse for $38.95. I was a bit indignant about this. It doesn't seem right to me that you can send me a check and then bill me for it. Now they were asking me to go cash the check and mail back a payment for the same amount; their error was going to cost me my time. It seems to me they should have just called and said that they sent me a check in error, and then I could tell them I never cashed it, and all would be good in the world. Just sending me a bill seemed rather impersonal and tactless.

I put the bill in my "to do" pile, but frankly, I'm rather lazy about this sort of thing because I hate having to take time out of my work day to crawl through some automated system until I can find my way to a live human being somewhere in South Asia... especially when all the effort is to explain to them that, no, I don't owe you this measly bill.

So I forgot about it until I received the next bill with late charges. I finally went ahead and called them and talked to someone named "Phil" with an Indian accent. Ends up they already reported my delinquency on this non-existent sum to the credit agency, but it only took the customer service rep a minute at his computer to realize that this was their error. They credited someone else's payment to my account and sent me a check for the excess before they realized the error. He said he would file this for investigation and it should all be taken care of and removed from my credit report in sixty days. That seemed like a long time, but I wasn't planning on buying a house any time soon, and I'm lazy, so I let it go at the time.

Soon we started to get odd phone calls. SarahK usually screens, so what we got were recorded voice message telling us to call a number for a "great opportunity from GE Money." It sounded like some phone scam, so we ignored it, but we got one about every day. SarahK finally answered one of the phone calls, and it was Men's Wearhouse trying to collect on the $38.95... now inflated by numerous late fees. They wouldn't talk to SarahK since the credit was in my name, though. One day I answered when I was home (I just answer the phone when it rings; I'm crazy like that) and I talked to someone named "Mary" with an Indian accent who then asked to transfer me to someone in their credit department. I said "Fine" because this seemed easy to explain. I then talked to someone who actually did sound American who asked me about my bill. Now I'm thinking they hired out a collection agency for this made up, tiny bill which makes the whole thing even more ridiculous. It ends up that GE Money is who does their credit, and it was Men's Wearhouse who had been pestering us all this time.

Anyway, it took the woman I talked to under a minute to figure out that this was indeed their error, and she told me that, if it is under investigation, don't worry about it. So I didn't. Still, we continued to get phone calls. It is months later now. One day I was home and answered the phone again and ended up talking to one of Men's Wearhouse's collection people. Again, I explained how I don't owe them anything and this has been a lot of harassment about nothing. He saw this was true, but he couldn't do anything because apparently the people in Men's Wearhouse collection and Men's Wearhouse credit don't talk to each other (bad blood or something). He gave me a number to call and I was indignant that once again this idiocy requires action on my part. They've been harassing me for months, and I have to call them to plead them to stop. Over a non-existent $38.95!

The phone calls stopped, so I forgot about this until I recently received a bill from Men's Wearhouse, now up to $178.81 that they imagined I owe them. I finally called them again yesterday afternoon and politely asked the person in India (there's never a reason to yell at the Indians because they're miles away from all this) to let me talk to someone higher up so I can put an end to this. I explained the whole thing -- again -- and the woman in customer service -- the American customer service -- told me they never had this listed as being disputed. She was able to immediately take care of the late fees which made me wonder why I had so many months ago been told that this would take sixty days to fix. That was because apparently they still send communiques between India and the Americas by ship, so when someone in India marks something to be looked into, they have to wait sixty days for one of their sturdy ships to find a strong wind and fair weather and make the trip to El Paso, Texas. Unfortunately, the ship with the note to check my account must have been attacked by pirates somewhere in the Atlantic and thus the months of harassment. I thought there was quicker, more reliable communication between India and America (somehow I was able to talk to both their customer service centers by phone), but I guess that wasn't in their budget... especially when they believed they were lacking $38.95.

Anyway, the late charges were taken away, and she told me this was being corrected with the credit agency, but I was still going to be listed as owing them $38.95 until they verified the check was never cashed. After all this annoyance, I felt they owed me much more than that sum... or at least should take my word for it that I owed them nothing. She was very adamant though; this was an exceptionally important $38.95, and while this was a huge headache for me, it was nothing compared to the agony Men's Wearhouse is under thinking it's $38.95 poorer. Thus, the charge would remain for the 72 hours it would take for them to verify that I had never cashed the check they inexplicably sent me.

Now, does all this make sense from a business perspective? How much money did they spend harassing me over this imagined bill? I'm thinking more than $38.95. That combined with the fact I'm going to cancel my credit with them and never do business with Men's Wearhouse again has to make this quite a huge loss. And is $38.95 really a sum you want to beat a costumer to death over? Earlier, they had sent me $100 in gift certificates because of my previous purchase with them, but later they hounded me every day over less than forty bucks. It seems at some point human eyes should have seen this and noticed how ridiculous it is. Or, at least, when what had happened was brought to light, they should have been apologetic and tried to make up for this instead of clinging to their precious $38.95.

I still like the shoes, though.

Fred Thompson can shoot beams out of his eyes so hot they can burn through Superman.

Owing $142 on April 16 is almost as good as owing $.01 or $.00. When you're talking about thousands of dollars in tax liability, $142 is so immaterial that I can say we're practically at $0 tax liability (I mean, we're still going to pay it so both worthless parties can spend the money on pork and social programs in which I don't believe), and at the same time, we didn't give the feds an interest-free loan. I think that's 3 out of the last 4 years for me that I can think of. Or something like that.

Yee-haw!

Eat that, moneymongers!

According to a new report, sex ed classes that teach only abstinence do nothing to delay the average teenager's first experience with intercourse.

Since doing "the marital" leads to naught but woe, suffering, and empty promises of "I'll call you", and all government programs are equally useless, we must do more to protect our children. Here are my suggestions on how Biblical-type knowings may be more effectively prevented:

* Don Imus masks (Rutgers only)

* Thinking about baseball - specifically Tommy Lasorda

* Master Lock™ brand genital piercings

* "Friend of Sanjaya" t-shirts

* Being a white man on a dance floor

* Viewing "Shaved Britney"... either end

* Free car with your first driver's license, but it's a Yugo

* Or you can take the Vespa

* E-mail address containing "@aol.com"

* Community service: peep show mop boy

* Chess club membership (voice of experience here)

If you happen to read the Wall Street Journal today, read the letters to the editor on page A13.

The last one? Mine. A response to Case Closed: Tax Cuts Mean Growth by his eminent Fredness.

But seeing my words in black and white on dead tree media. It's hard to believe.

[BSEG]

Sure you can read it online too, I mention the Laffer curve. But its in print too

Update: Am I looking for kudos? Virtual cookies? Pats on the back? No, I am really saying "HAH! My words are in the WSJ and yours, not so much. Neener, neener, neener."

This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

To further my plan and kill Aquaman in an elegant and -- if I may say -- a poetic fashion, I'd first need some radio jamming equipment. I had a dealer downtown who often dealt in electronics of questionable legality, but before I got there, I noticed a pair of eyes in a window three stories above me.

Damnable monkey eyes. Staring at me. Boring into my soul.

Apparently the lone survivor had followed me, deciding to attack me when I was away from home... when I was more vulnerable.

I pulled out my .45. If the monkey wanted to end things now, I was game.

I charged into the apartment building, running to the third story and counting doors until I was pretty sure I had the apartment the monkey must have hid in. I then kicked in the door as I disengaged the thumb safety on my gun.

The family inside screamed at me. "It's okay; I'm a popular blogger," I told them as I kept my eyes down the sights of my gun looking for monkey movement.

I heard scurrying and fired two shots through the wall.

"Maybe we should call the police," the mother there said.

I grabbed the cordless phone from her and smashed it against the wall. "They'd only get in the way." I heard a window open and ran into the kitchen. The breeze billowed the drapes and I looked out the window for the monkey expecting to see him scurrying down the a pipe.

A cabinet popped open behind. I spun around and tried to aim my gun, but I was too late. I got off one unaimed shot before two monkey feet slammed me in chest sending me out the window. I plummeted towards the streets, smashing into a soft top car. Through pained-filled eyes, I could see the monkey jump out the window and fly off in a little monkey hang glider.

Outsmarted by a monkey. It was not a good day.

"Having trouble, Mr. Fleming?"

I recognized the voice. It was Aquaman. I groped around me until I found my gun. I then put it back into its in-the-waist holster and rolled off of the car. "I'm doing awesome. How are those swimming lessons at the Y working out for you?"

He glared at me. "I'm keeping an eye on you."

I shrugged. "What? Is it suddenly illegal to fall out of a window?" I walked off to finish my errand.

I still can't believe his obsession with me; it's not like he actually cares about some dead monkeys. It's not my fault what happened to you last year, Mr. Curry, but, when you die, it will be by my hands.

That I swear.

Twenty-oneAt least thirty-one students had their dreams stolen this morning. Not by a bad joke from an un-funny man. By an evil person (or persons).

Our prayers go out to the families of the victims and also to the witnesses of the shootings. How very sad.

I have to say that this whole Imus thing makes me a little worried. With humor, we're always pushing the boundaries, and, if I'm not careful, I could end up the object of condemnation. Thus, to make sure I don't say something racially insensitive, I'm going to focus all racial hatred on a group I won't get in trouble belittling: The Irish.

An artist's depiction of the Irish. Note the heavy, sloping brow.

So, what to do of these Irish who could break out into violence at any moment and are incapable of being reasoned with? The only solution is to call them racial slurs. Some suggestions:

Mick
Paddy
Shant
Spud
Bog-Jumper
Coal-Cracker
Turf-Cutter
Pot-Licker
Potato-Eater
Mucker
Fumblin' Dublin
Giant Leprechaun
Kermit
Drunk

What's your favorite slur for this inferior race?

The original ending to In the Line of Fire had Fred Thompson stand between the assassin and the president and deflect the bullet off his chest. This was deemed to unrealistic, though, since no one would ever have the courage to pull the trigger on Fred Thompson.

Legendary Hawaiian entertainer known for 'Tiny Bubbles' dies.

Fred Thompson is a prime number.

Fred Thompson often fills in for Paul Harvey and Batman.

Since Bill O'Reilly is busy in Ireland getting drunk and fighting (it's still okay to be racist towards the Irish, right?), Michelle Malkin subbed for O'Reilly last night and tonight. I haven't watched tonight's yet (I'm tivoing the 11pm repeat), but last night she did great. She also got called a prostitute to her face which made for good TV.

According to this site, she got huge rating subbing for Bill. I think she does great on hard new analysis (not so much on softer stuff like when she once subbed on FOX and Friends). Instead of replacing O'Reilly, I think she and Kirsten Powers should replace Hannity and Colmes. That would make that hour much smarter and much much more attractive.

This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

Many think that Aquaman's ability to command the creatures of the sea is something magical, but it can be quantified scientifically. Like any other signal that goes through the air, it operates on a specific frequency. And when I know that frequency, Aquaman will die.

Reading up on how brains operate, I was able to limit down the possible frequencies in which Aquaman's telepathy might operate. I then set a frequency scanner by those parameters.

"Dear, I'm heading out to stalk Aquaman."

She reluctantly turned her attention away from her soap opera. "You still have the monkey to kill."

"And die it shall, but the monkey I most want off my back right now is Aquaman. I'll be back in time for dinner."

"I'll try to notice." She looked back to her show and waved me away.

At the zoo, Aquaman's CSI friend had left (I was careful; there was nothing to find), but Mr. Curry was still staring at the ashes of the monkey cages as if he could command them to give him answers. It was an obsession -- and a very unhealthy once since it was going to cause me to kill him.

"Whatcha doin'?" My interrogator was a chubby child eating cotton candy. He stared at my frequency scanner with the incomprehension of a dog watching an opera.

"Did your parents ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"

"No."

"Probably because they hate you because you're so fat and are hoping some stranger will do you in." I noticed a nearby tank. "I'll honor their wishes." I snatched his cotton candy and tossed it into the tank.

"My candy!" He waddled towards the tank, leaned over the railing reaching for his cotton candy, and stretched his arms out for until gravity won over.

At the sound of the splash, I faded into nearby crowd. "A kid has fallen into the stingray tank!" a woman shouted.

Aquaman ran forward for the rescue. "Just stay still and they won't hurt you," he told the blubbering child. Stingrays were an extremely minor threat, but instinctively Aquaman must have told them to move out of the way, because they fled as he reached in.

And my scanner caught the signal. It wasn't enough data to properly breakdown how his telepathy worked, but it was enough for my purposes. By the time Aquaman had used his super strength to lift the wet dumpling to safety, I was gone.

Enjoy this minor act of heroism, Aquaman, for it shall be your last.

MKH has a cute, short video of peeps acting out this week's news. I always thought puppets were the best educational tool, but I guess peeps work as well.

Warning: This is a rant. If you're one of those whiny peeps who just can't handle it when IMAO gets ranty, you have this thing on the right-hand side of your screen called a scroll bar. I assume you know how to use it.

I'm over this racist bullcrap. I've been over it since about five minutes after Imus apologized the first time. After the first apology, there should have been no more apologies, and he absolutely NEVER should have groveled to Hypocrites Extraordinaire and Self-Proclaimed Masters of the Universe Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson. Note to Sharpton and Jackson: There is only one Master of the Universe, and his name is Jack Bristow. Neither of you comes close to being Jack Bristow, so move along now and crawl back into your racist, seedy little holes. Mr. Sharpton, you can go back to flinging around racial epithets about Jews and Whiteys. Jackson, well, you just go back to being the King of Slime.

Now, at first I felt bad for the Rutgers women's basketball team, which everyone has already forgotten about. They're now just "the Rutgers team". What sport is it they were playing before this turned into the Sharpton/Jackson Circus and Spotless Barack's Presidential Hot Topic? Oh, and did anyone notice that not all of them are black? Just wanted to mention it, because I doubt that Al and Jesse picked up on that, since they spun this whole thing as just another way for white men to keep black women enslaved.

But see, if I were one of the girls on the basketball team, I would just want it to go away. Yeah, ok, I was called a (k)nappy-headed ho in front of Imus's eight listeners, and that's incredibly insulting and very inaccurate (look how nice my hair is). Oh, and remember my accomplishments on the basketball court? I rock, and nobody remembers that!

But this. This is over the top.

Meanwhile the Rutgers women's basketball team appeared Thursday on the Oprah Winfrey show to discuss the controversy. "Not only did he steal our dreams, he hurt our character of Rutgers University, our state, and all who have been associated," Rutgers Head Coach C. Vivian Stringer said on the show.

I've been making a bunch of those IM IN UR cat posters for fun and profit.

For instance:

Technically, that's a pimpslap, but Nardo's a very stupid cat who can't tell the difference.

...Close It

When Fred Thompson found out a Senator had added pork to a bill, Fred Thompson ripped off the man's leg and beat him with it. The leg was later returned to the Senator as part of a bi-partisan compromise.

Don Imus has lost his job. Next to be fired: Ryan Seacrest.

This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

To kill Aquaman, I must first find his weakness.

I was bit exhausted today because I had to fend off a savage attack by my dog. She's a pit bull, so random, deadly attacks are just part of her personality. Still, recuperating gave me a chance to stay in and plot.

On our kitchen table I spread out newspaper articles and research papers on Aquaman. It would probably be easier to organize all the information on a computer, but when plotting to kill I like to have physical things to hold... to crush.

"Why waste your time with this?" My wife was cleaning her stainless steel .45. "Just shoot him in the face and get this over with."

I laughed. "This isn't going to be some drive by shooting by a gangbanger with his pants around his ankles; I'm plotting to kill a superhero. This is a game of chess." I didn't want this kill to be traced back to me either. No more loose ends to worry about.

SarahK finished assembling the gun and raked the slide triumphantly. "Just make sure he never bothers us again. You still have that monkey to take care of, remember?"

Of course I can remember; I can feel its eyes on me every time I'm near a window. But first things first.

One newspaper article caught my eye. Aquaman saved a swimmer from sharks. He simply swam in, grabbed the youth, and swam out without a care.

And that's his weakness. He is so used to commanding sea creatures, it's not even something he has to think about anymore. And after the incident outside of Tucson, he's been even more reckless.

You think you can swim with the sharks, Aquaman? We'll see about that.

There's nothing to post about. The two big stories right now -- Imus and the Duke lacrosse players -- are both things I never cared about.

So, here's a non-political topic: What exactly is fire?

I mean, it has a size (though the shape is constantly in flux) and a color, but I don't think it has a mass. What exactly is it? Are we sure fire isn't black magic? Like, are we so used to fire now, we've just never really looked at it and said, "Wait a second! This is evil!"

I don't trust fire. I think unleashing fire to gain its heat and warmth is like making a deal with the devil. Don't do it. Fire bad.

The U.S. Military once created a Fred Thompson submachine gun. They were unable to use it since firing it on the battlefield violated every single article of the Geneva Conventions (and common sense).

Whitler snuck in his next essay a couple days ago, a second part to an essay on critical thinking that he started a decade or so ago. I swear, J.D. Salinger outputs writing more consistently than him.

I just found out about it and haven't read it yet, but I thought I'd pass it on to you since they're always worthwhile. Reactions later.

Speaking of elimination, the Dallas Stars are soooo going to eliminate the Vancouver Canucks from the Stanley Cup playoffs this round. Just so you know. /minor hockey trash talk

Wow. My first Whopper Jr. in ages. I won't get to have them for much longer, and mmmm. I forgot how good they are.

Oh yeah. American Idol. You can see how much I care about this season any more. I'm aching for Kellie Pickler to return, that's how much I un-heart this season. Yep. New lows.

Seacrest says the contestants brought flair, passion, and power to the Latin special. No, Ryan. They brought suckitude, apathy, and yawns. Seacrest asks who is going home and then gives Sanjaya a long look. Nope, don't think so, but it's good we're all fully IN the Universe of Sanjaya.

Randy says Latin songs are hard to sing, but the contestants overall did good. Paula giggles when Ryan asks if she saw a new side to the contestants. She and her vodka can't stop laughing. Simon says he did indeed sleep after complimenting Sanjaya last night.

The top eight (used loosely, of course) are singing "Bailamos" by William Hung, et al. It's not good. Oh, and I can't help but laugh at the producers' joke when Sanjaya and Haley are center stage for a duet. Well played. It must be fuh-reeeeezing in that auditorium tonight, because Haley is clothed. Or I don't know, maybe Haley's mama finally told her that in Texas, we don't like our girls to be h*s.

AI "Challenge": Which of Elliott Yamin, Kat McPhee, and Taylor Hicks performed with Meatloaf at last year's finale. How could we forget that? I mean... really. How. I don't remember what I said at the time, but I'm recalling it with a big fat "egad".

Oh yeah, the songwriting contest! I assume they're having this because the finale songs have gotten worse every single year. The song that wins will be sung on the finale. Please peeps, send in non-crappy, non-campy, non-"inspirational" drivel that someone would sing weepily to their mama at a 50th wedding anniversary party, ok? Avoid songs in the key of dull. Prime examples of what to stay away from include: "Inside Your Heaven" (known in our house as "Inside Your Tear Ducts"), "Do I Make You Proud" (Weird Al's version is so much better), "Flying Without Wings", and whatever nasty spittle Kat McPhee sang for the finale last year.

Seacrest went to the streets to interview people about the show. It's kinda cute. A lady ran away from Ryan at the end when he said "Come on baby, give me a nice, wet, lickery kiss."

A-Kon is on again singing "Don't Matter". He really likes singing on American Idol, because he was on with Gwen Stefani two weeks ago. He wants to fight for his right to love, yeah. You know what? I'm just happy he's not singing about b**ch*s and kn*p*y h**d*d h*s, as the hip-hop artists are so inclined to do these days. (And yes, I grew up in urban America and was a minority in my high school by the time I graduated, and I'm quite sure that at our school, knappy was spelled with a k. I'm well-educated on knappy. It means tangled, bushy, messy, gross. Even white people with dreds can have knappy hair--my mom's best friend's son and my own brother have had some knappy dreds, dawg. Every time I saw my brother with dreds, I would most assuredly make a comment about his knappy hair. It wasn't racist. It was just because his hair was knappy. For more urban education, just ask me questions. I'm happy to help.)

What was I talking about? Yes. The bad Ford commercial. It's "Knappy Together". No, sorry, that's "Happy Together". They got ahold of the CSI: Horatio visual effects and started morphing heads into other heads and cars into other cars. Morphing is wrong. I'm coming out against genetic morphing, especially genetic morphing funded by my American Idol votes and my driving of a Ford.

I can't actually see the game right now, because we have 2 things recording on the DVR, and our non-livingroom TVs don't get VS channel. But according to the Stars' website, the game is knotted at 1, thanks to our Captain. At 11 I can switch to the game. Florida sucks and has no sports radio, at least the east coast of Florida.

LOL, Soup moment: they're promoting the charity event, and Simon is showing the children in Africa that the charity event will help, and one of the little girls drew Simon with boobies. Simon says he doesn't much like her.

Ryan asks Simon if they raise $20MM, will Simon get up and sing onstage? Simon says no, you can do better.

They do a splice job with the judges trashing a contestant and Tony Bennett auditioning. "Other door."

NO NO! They're recapping the Latin show! WHY?! I like my ears! I need them for hearing and producing wax! They show Haley after the judges' comments last night, and Haley says, "I guess I'm gonna go, uh, put a robe on." Yes, because that's the first time she's heard the comment about her dressing problem? Wah.

Oh, poor wittle Haley says it hurt a little bit, and she's not gonna wear anything that she feels is inappropriate. Yes, just what would you consider inappropriate? Garters and crotchless panties?

Phil is in the bottom three.
LaKisha is safe.
Jordin is safe.
Melinda is safe.
Haley is in the bottom three.
Ryan keeps teasing Sanjaya and telling him to stand up but then telling him to sit back down, because we're not ready for him yet.
Blake is safe.
Chris is in the bottom three. Sanjaya is safe.
I predicted this bottom three exactly. It's not even challenging to predict the bottom three! Now there's a break and then a J-Lo.

After the break, Chris gets to sit back down. He is safe to sing another day. Finally, we will be rid of either the Hoo-Hah Girl or Pennywise. I actually hope it's the Hoo-Hah girl. Yes, I who have always withheld Phil's number would rather keep him around if it means getting rid of LegsMcCrotchy.

Hey, if J-Lo was a contestant, I would vote for her over any of the other contestants last night. My critiques would be that she ran out of breath a little at the end, and she needs to put her middle finger down a little. She was much more passionato than the others. J-Lo says she thinks she comes from the Paula school of criticism, not that we don't need our Simon. She believes in accentuating the positive. At least she's honest. She's charming and clothed for the evening.

Haley and her hoo-hah are going home, to the place where they belong, where love has always been enough for them. That's all I know of the song, still.

Next week is country with Martina McBride!! The only week to look forward to. But with this bunch, I'm not optimistic.

This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

One of the cats -- the fat calico -- played with a cricket today. The cat ripped off the legs and then watched then insect squirm around as it slowly died. When the cat became bored, it retreated to the corner of the room to lick itself.

Cute things, those cats.

I wish I such luxury to enjoy my kill, but I needed the monkey killed quickly and efficiently. I already have too much to worry about and need closure for this episode.

The trap is simple. It's a box with an apple dangling in its center. When the monkey reaches in and grabs the apple, razor wire will go taut and slice off the monkey's arm. The monkey will then bleed to death while I stand on my back porch smoking a cigar and sipping bourbon.

Trap in hand, I went to get a ladder so as to place it in one of the trees out back. What I saw, though, were two people searching through the ashes of the monkey cages. One was instantly recognizable as Aquaman. The other took me a moment to place. He was Lieutenant Caine, a crime scene investigator from Miami. Aquaman used to frequent Miami quite a bit so they were old friends.

"If you take off your sunglasses, it might help you see any clues," I called out to the Lieutenant.

Aquaman turned his attention to me. "What do you have there?"

"A box; they're used for holding things. If you guys get tired of looking at those dead monkeys, just give me a holler and I'll see if I have some more interesting ones in my basement."

"This area is at sea level." Lieutenant Caine took off his sunglasses in a dramatic fashion. "You don't have a basement."

"It's called a joke, sherlock. You two have fun. Just don't have gay sex while children are watching." Me and my box headed back for the garage.

This is too much. I won't be able to do anything while Aquaman and his friends are constantly looking over my shoulder. Thus, I must finally do what Black Manta never could.

I must kill Aquaman.

Fred Thompson has revealed he has lymphoma (if Red State has recovered from being linked by The Drudge Report, Fred Thompson wrote about it in a post there). It's in remission and has no effect on him (because, of course, he's Fred Thompson). I've never publicly said so, but I'm kinda excited about the idea of a Fred Thompson candidacy, so I hope the fact that he's putting this information out is an indication he's planning on running.

I'm sure you will all join me in wishing Fred Thompson the best, but you should also know that he spits on our well-wishes because he doesn't need them. He's Fred Thompson.

Don Imus, the beleaugered radio show host who was recently suspended for calling the Rutgers basketball team a bunch of "nappy headed hos" got into even more troulbe today.

The National Organization of Nappy Headed Hos filed a formal complaint with the FCC.

Said the national chair, Hillariqa, "Just cuz I got a nappy head, don't mean you have to be calling me no basketball player. That @(#& is just disrespectful."

Also joining in the complaint was her co-chair, Nanconda. "Why you gotta do us like that? We work so hard on these mean streets. Every day we just out here bustin our butts, or vice versa. You don't have to call us basketball players. There are other ways you can compliment our ball handling skills"

Don Imus will be going down to the ghetto this afternoon to meet with all the Nappy Headed Hos and have a discussion about the hurt feelings he caused among these people.

Said Hillariqa, "I'm sure some people wouldn't care what some old white fart has to say, but not me: I take everything personal. I'm not the type of person who can just disregard this and go about my daily business. I need him down here to explain to me just why he thought it was funny to call the Nappy Headed Hos basketball players."

Imus is sure to face another suspension over this incident. An executive, who insisted on remaining anonymous, stated: "We need to look at our core audience and make sure they are happy. Just because the Nappy Haired Hos don't listen to the program, doesn't mean we shouldn't try to cater to their every feeling. Apologizing isn't enough. We may have Imus do community work at a children's center or maybe even a hair salon."

IMAO will provide coverage of this issue as it develops. .

Michelle Malkin has more.

There's pretty nothing happening in the news right now as evidenced by Don Imus being the big story. That's who my old man listens and thinks is edgy. Usually, Don Imus could murder someone and barely make the entertainment news, so there basically has to be nothing at all happening for him to be a lead story.

So, the world is failing IMAO by not providing us with noteworthy events to react to. Thus, I'm forced to make up my own interesting news and react to it.

TODAY'S NEWS

* Rudy Giuilani beat a hobo to death with a tire iron. People are trying to make this an issue about Rudy's anger and acting like he committed some great crime, but this is just a made up controversy. The facts are that the hobo spit on Rudy; this was not some unprovoked assault. Also, the hobo has no family and will be mourned by no one, so who was hurt here?

Honestly, if I had to participate in the Democratic Presidential Primary, it would probably get my vote.

* Iranian President Ahmadinejad revealed to be only two feet tall. Usually, the Iranian press is careful to photograph Ahmadinejad so that he appears about normal size, but a photo leaked of Ahmadinejad standing next to a squirrel. If it is a regular squirrel and not some giant mutant nuclear squirrel that it's rumored Iranian scientists are working on, then Ahmadinejad is approximately two feet tall. Reportedly, the mullahs who run Iran keep Ahmadinejad in a sock drawer and pull him out when they need some announcements made.

* Al Gore gets tongue stuck to a flagpole during a global warming conference. As funny as it is every time Gore's conferences are met with winter storms, that's merely anecdotal evidence and doesn't prove anything. Still, Gore licking a flagpole to make some point on climate change is yet another demonstration of his poor judgment and why he's really not a good source for information on this issue.

* John Edwards puts on a dress and french kisses Markos Zúniga. Though Markos later fixed the typo on DailyKos so that the post told Edwards to "be his own man" instead of to "be his woman," Markos still said that Edwards attempt to blindly follow whatever the Netroots demanded showed "true leadership." In my opinion, Edwards would make a much more attractive woman than Hillary.

* John McCain ridicules conservatives at his event and then has staffers hold them down while he pees on their face. Afterwards, he wondered aloud why those conservatives aren't backing him even though he supports the war. When the conservatives tried to respond, McCain had them arrested since he considered their speech to be an illegal campaign contribution as outlined by the McCain-Feingold Act. McCain's candidacy just hasn't been gaining steam, and I can't quite put my middle finger on the reason.

* Sanjaya Malakar poisoned, shot, hung, and then thrown in river but still shows up next day to sing off key on American Idol. Once again, he wasn't even in the bottom three despite his new hairstyle being denounced by the pope as an "offense to God." Sorry, people, there's no getting rid of him.

* Peace and democracy brought to Iraq; Reuters news report refers to this as "dark sign of things to come." Report emphasizes that, since all insurgents have been brought to justice and all order is restored, "things can only get worse for Iraq." They quote experts who say that "the only thing worse than bombs going is bombs not going off, as one can only assume that means the bombers are currently plotting even more deadly bombs." The Reuters story also makes note of how all the puppies and kittens playing in the streets of Baghdad are a "black omen" of an "almost certain disaster yet awaiting Iraq." I'm beginning to think that Reuters may be a bit biased, but "no news is good news" as they say... though I think they meant something different by it.

* Fred Thompson goes to beach for the weekend; while there, he accepts the surrender of a Russian sub. He was just wanting to relax with his wife, so it must have been a bit annoying for a submarine to sail up next to him with the entire crew exiting with their hands up. Luckily, he is experienced with that sort of situation. Fred Thompson is expected to keep the sub in his backyard next to the Russian tank that surrendered to him which he shook his fist at it.

* A man materialized in a ball of lightning in the middle of a campaign event. He said he is from the future and warned us not to elect Hillary Clinton. Really? You've advanced so far in the future that you've finally figured out what most Americans know now: Don't vote for Hillary. Why don't you stick to the problems of your epoch and we'll take care of ours. Anyway, how bad can your future be if you have a time machine -- something today's scientists are pretty sure isn't even scientifically possible? If someone from the future is reading this blog archive, please bring us schematics for a cold fusion generator instead of your political opinion.

Recently Tim O'Reilly of O'Reilly Radar posted his first draft of the "Blogger Code of Conduct", a set of voluntary guidelines designed to make the blogospheric conversation a touch more civil.

1. We take responsibility for our own words and for the comments we allow on our blog.

We are committed to the "Civility Enforced" standard: we will not post unacceptable content, and we'll delete comments that contain it.

We define unacceptable content as anything included or linked to that:
- is being used to abuse, harass, stalk, or threaten others
- is libelous, knowingly false, ad-hominem, or misrepresents another person,
- infringes upon a copyright or trademark
- violates an obligation of confidentiality
- violates the privacy of others

We define and determine what is "unacceptable content" on a case-by-case basis, and our definitions are not limited to this list. If we delete a comment or link, we will say so and explain why. [We reserve the right to change these standards at any time with no notice.]

2. We won't say anything online that we wouldn't say in person.

3. We connect privately before we respond publicly.

When we encounter conflicts and misrepresentation in the blogosphere, we make every effort to talk privately and directly to the person(s) involved--or find an intermediary who can do so--before we publish any posts or comments about the issue.

4. When we believe someone is unfairly attacking another, we take action.

When someone is publishing comments or blog postings that are offensive, we'll tell them so (privately, if possible--see above) and ask them to publicly make amends.
If those published comments could be construed as a threat, and the perpetrator doesn't withdraw them and apologize, we will cooperate with law enforcement to protect the target of the threat.

5. We do not allow anonymous comments.

We require commenters to supply a valid email address before they can post, though we allow commenters to identify themselves with an alias, rather than their real name.

6. We ignore the trolls.

We prefer not to respond to nasty comments about us or our blog, as long as they don't veer into abuse or libel. We believe that feeding the trolls only encourages them--"Never wrestle with a pig. You both get dirty, but the pig likes it." Ignoring public attacks is often the best way to contain them.

All fine & dandy, but it's certainly not for everyone. A blog must be true to its own inherent nature. That's why Frank J. wrote his own set of guidelines specifically for IMAO, and even Michelle Malkin has her own shorter, sweeter version.

And that got me to thinking that, since liberals are notoriously lazy about writing things for themselves, I should put one together for Daily Kos.

We celebrate the blogosphere because it embraces our moral and political delusions. But delusions can only survive in the absence of rational challenge. We present this Kos Kode of Konduct in hopes that it helps create an insular and ideologically pure - if somewhat conceptually incestuous - culture that encourages both personal psychosis and deranged demagogery.

1. We are merely victims of others' misinterpretations of our words and the comments that forced themselves on our blog.

We are committed to the "Liberalism Enforced" standard: we are - by definition, since we're liberals - incapable of posting unacceptable content, but we'll sure as hell delete comments that contain it.

We define unacceptable content as anything included or linked to that:
- fails to abuse, harass, stalk, or threaten Republicans
- is libelous, knowingly false, ad-hominem, or misrepresents Democrats, unless we've decided to throw said Democrat to the wolves, like that SOB Lieberman
- infringes upon a copyright or trademark, except in cases of plagiarism, AKA "fair use"
- violates an obligation of confidentiality - exceptionally juicy and/or speculative pieces of gossip notwithstanding
- violates the privacy of others while doing nothing to bring search engine traffic to our site
- paints aught but the most unflattering portrait of not-my-President Bush

We define and determine what is "unacceptable content" via consultation with a Magic 8 Ball, and our definitions are not limited consistency, logic, fairness or decency. If we delete a comment or link, we will pretend it was never there and pray that no one thinks to check the Google Cache or the Internet Archive. [We reserve the right to change these standards at any time with no notice and then vehemently maintain that we didn't.]

2. We won't say anything online that we wouldn't say in person if we were surrounded by a gang of liberal friends and standing behind armed body guards - who, by the way, are the only people that should be allowed to own guns, and you wouldn't BELIEVE how much it pains us to even let THAT one slide.

3. We abuse publicly before we respond privately - not that we have anything to apologize for in any case.

When we encounter non-conforming notions in the blogosphere, we make every effort to smear loudly and unreservedly the person(s) involved - or find an frothing mob who can do so - as we publish our obscenity and invective-laden posts or comments about the issue.

4. When we believe someone is unfairly attacking a liberal, we'll muck-rake and hatchet-job that little weasel into oblivion.

When someone is publishing comments or blog postings that are offensive or even slightly challenging to our truthyish world-view, we'll screech like a Muslim in a sausage factory (and with as little regard for decorum as Britney Spears wearing a short skirt while getting out of a limo - see above) and demand public acts of contrition and/or self-flagellation. If those published comments could be construed as a threat, or if we find them even moderately irksome, and the perpetrator doesn't withdraw them and apologize and bring us a shrubbery... one that looks nice... and not too expensive... we will cooperate with law enforcement to protect the target of the threat. Or maybe we'll just post pictures of the perp's kids' on a pedophile message board. Have to consult the Magic 8 Ball on that one.

5. We do not allow anonymous comments unless we agree with them. Otherwise DELETE! DELETE! DELETE! But you can't prove that happened.

We require commenters to supply a valid email address before they can post so that we can sell our mailing list to the boys at Cialis-R-Us. However, we do allow commenters to identify themselves with an alias, rather than their real name, as long as it's something clever like Hillary08 or BushIsHitler.

6. We don't ignore the trolls. We ARE the trolls.

We prefer not to respond to nasty comments about us or our blog, as long as they don't veer into abuse or libel. But then again, nothing draws page views like a good pissing contest, so GAME ON, RETHUGLICANS! We believe that feeding the trolls keeps them fat & happy - "Always wrestle with a pig. You both get dirty, and we LOVE it! (although we apologize to any Muslims who might be offended by that image)." Posting and linking to public attacks is often the best way to encourage them. Besides, it brings search engine traffic to our site.

Why does it rain? Because God is crying. Why is God crying? Because Fred Thompson punched Him in the arm.

Latin night. Also known as Producers Hate SarahK Night #34,847. Oooooh! The cast of Drive, including Nathan Fillion! I heart him.

That's about all I care about on this show anymore -- Nathan Fillion being in the audience. Gina is gone. Chris Sligh is gone. Melinda should win but probably won't, because some people will be distracted by LaKisha's Breasts, Jordin's Smile, Sanjaya's Hair, Pennywise's Reflective Head, and Haley's Hoo-Hah. Oh yeah, Blake's my 2nd fave, voice wise, but I don't want to buy the crappy electronikka CD he'll want to put out--if he would just sing and look nice and stuff, I would be happy, but he really likes the digital, yo. Jordin could be my 3rd favorite of those left, but I'm afraid she'd want to do bubble-gum pop, and, um--ew. Chris R is probably my #2 (based on the fact that I wouldn't like Blake's and Jordin's CDs) of those left, but he's been in the bottom two so often and makes bad song choices (according to America) often enough that Haley's Hoo-hah will flash him right out way too early anyway.

So yeah, I don't care. Bring on Sanjaya's bad hair decision of the week so I can throw up my dinner already.

Oh, and for Latin week, it's Jenny from the Block. J-Lo. Didn't she grow up in the very Latino Bronx? Just for clarification purposes. I mean, I'm too lazy to google it (google it), but y'all can if you want. I'm going straight from rote. Whew, big words! I have to occupy myself somehow with this boring show now that there's no one to get excited about.

For the record, I like J-Lo as an actress, don't care for her as a singer, and avoid her tabloid shenanigans like the plague, because oh my.

Why not say who is your favorite, Miss Lo? Please! Do something interesting before I change the channel!

Oh, um--Latin music? Yeah, not so much. Please keep it in Latinastan and don't subject me to it. Oh, I guess I said that in my first line.

01 Melinda is singing "Sway", an incredibly boring Latin song. She did her hair up like a grama. J-Lo told her to be sultry and sexy, and Melinda says that will be hard for her, because she's so not sexy. I'm a little tense until she comes out. She's obviously going for sexy this week. She is sexy in a sleek black dress, but she's still modest. Kudos there. Say, Melinda, there's this girl named Haley. You should give her a tip about how to be sexy without flashing the goodies to the world. This is sultry and whatnot, but incredibly boring, but it's Latin music, so I suspect one of the best of the night. We'll see. She almost doesn't hit the end note right, but she just makes it, barely. It was a yawner but mostly spotless. Other than the hair, she looks fantastic, probably the best she's dressed any night of the competition. RANDY: Yeah, dawg. Not one of your best, but yeah. PAULA: Sultry, sexy, you look lovely. You didn't have to wow us. SIMON: Well it had to happen, Melinda. I didn't like it. I'll tell you why. That song is all about personality. You appeared much older than you are. At this stage, you have to put on a wow-factor performance every week. I think you're better than that. RYAN: Were you worried what Simon would say? MELINDA: Actually, I'm happy, because he really wanted to say something bad, and he got the chance. (Even Simon can't help himself, he laughs.) SARAHK: BTW, your lipstick is way too red.

02 Wow, that is a DWTS dress that Kiki is wearing tonight with her giant breasts bursting out of the seams. My bad, I only saw the boob part of it while she was sitting. It's just loud like the DWTS dresses. Ok, so we've had all these legends on the show--Tony Bennett, Diana Ross, Lulu, et al--and LaKisha has ignored every bit of advice from them (no, I'ma do my own thang, because I'm Kiki tha Great). Now we have J-Lo... J-LO!!! And LaKisha is all over that advice! Show me how to move, I'll do it. How do I pronounce conga, Miss Latina from the Block? Oh no. I was wrong. She didn't take the advice on how to pronounce conga. Would it be wrong of me to advise her on not wearing dresses that accentuate the backfat? Sorry, but I have backfat, and I don't wear dresses in which the backfat spills out over the back edge of the dress. At least not on purpose. No, I just can't let it go. Bad form. The song, the song. It's Latin crap. I hated it when Gloria and the Miami Vice or whoever did it, and I hated it this time. Yuck. Nothing good about it, nothing special. Boring and safe and frankly, I was too distracted by the above to even hear the mediocrity. Please, where is Gina? RANDY: Yo, check it out, whatever we were missing with Melinda, here it is, you brought it, that was hot, welcome back. SARAHK: Come again? PAULA: You look lovely. SARAHK: Come again? PAULA: I didn't love it as much as Randy did. I felt it was very safe. I'm ready for you to bring it again. We love ya. SIMON: Do you agree? KIKI: Not so much. SARAHK: Come again? SIMON: I agree with Pauler. It was safe. The dancing wasn't very good. (Kiki looks shocked by this.)

This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

They counted the bodies from the fire. One monkey was unaccounted for.

Dammit.

Of course, as we all know, it's quite hard to sort out charred monkey corpses. Plus, they were locked in tight when I set the fire; none should have been able to escape.

That's what I told myself, but then I thought I saw something move in the trees behind my house. If the monkey didn't kill me, the uncertainty would.

The only way I could find solace would be to set a trap for the simian -- one that would surely kill it if the monkey were in fact stalking me and planning its revenge. Something quick and deadly so that one shriek would mark the end of this saga.

I tried looking up traps on Wikipedia, but one gets the sense that none of those internet nerds has ever killed anything... has ever watched something slowly bleed to death until its life fades from its eyes much like a polaroid in reverse. No, if I wanted a trap, I'd have to devise it myself. And I'd have no rest until I did.

SarahK prepared a lovely dinner of lemon-mustard chicken and garlic broccoli with pine nuts. It looked quite delicious, but then the dog barked at something unseen out the window. My stomach clenched with dread, and I had no appetite. "Sorry, dear wife, but I'm just not hungry."

She grabbed me by the collar and stared at me with her intense green eyes. "Next time, stay and make sure they all die!"

I hate it when she's right.

I've been forgetting to mention that I got a copy of Hugh Hewitt's new book A Mormon in the White House. I've been a bit intimidated by Hugh Hewitt, worrying I'm not smart enough to read him (I worry the same thing about Victor Davis Hanson).

Anyway, Mitt Romney is my favorite of those currently announced, but the Mormonism is a problem (here's a blog post from Hewitt on the subject). I'm not going to go into all the points as they are all debatable, but Mormonism can be made particularly creepy sounding (the secrecy certainly doesn't help). On the other hand, while people complain about Islam being called "the religion of peace" when the actions of so many of its members speak otherwise, it's thus hard to paint Mormonism as sinister and threatening when all the Mormons I've met are some the nicest, most trustworthy people.

Today is my birthday.

In keeping with Federal Holiday Guidelines, please ensure that your supervisors give you paid time off.

Also in keeping with tradition, you may shower me with praise and gifts.

If you're not up for that, then consider buying our latest T-shirt.

There's a New York Times article on making a blogger code of conduct. Most of it seems to be aimed towards regulating comments (I didn't actually read the article; that's why I peruse blogs: they summarize what I don't have the attention span to read myself). Apparently, blog comments have gotten so vicious now that some non-conservative chick has been the target of their venom that it's time to regulate things.

I think I speak for everyone at IMAO when I say, "Yawn."

Yes, comments at a lot of blogs have become cesspools of trolls without even the slightest bit of tact, but how big a problem is that really? If we get rid of the filth, is it likely we'll finally get those intelligent conversations we've always craved?

Dangerous in the wrong hands... or annoying at least.

Comments are just an extra thing; most blogs don't actually need them to survive and plenty do fine without them. We here at IMAO, though, like to get feedback on our posts and want to make commenting as accessible as possible. Also, we're lazy. Those two things pretty much dictate our approach to regulating comments. Our only real concern is spam comments. Since I already have more photos of nude celebrities than I know what to do with (and I probably shouldn't publicly mention my huge stock of prescription drugs), spam is of no use to me. Also, it clogs up old posts and the constant hit from spammers can make us exceed our bandwidth. Thus, that's all we really care about combating. If those people in the NYTimes article want to do something useful, they should sponsor legislation to have spammers hunted down and beaten to death with bats. Yes, I know many spammers have families, but I don't care. I want them beaten to death in front of those families so their children will be discouraged.

That said, we do have a comment policy.

THE IMAO COMMENT POLICY

* All comments you make are property of IMAO. As soon as a comment is made, we can do whatever we want with it. We can delete it, edit it, or print it out and frame it and sell it on eBay. You do have some rights, though, such as not having to give lodgings to soldiers and not being forced to incriminate yourself in a court of law (though we may edit comments so you incriminate yourself).

* Official policy of IMAO is that we don't read your comments. While I do in fact read every comment, if someone comes up to me and says, "Why didn't you do something about this horrible comment?!" My response will always be, "This is the first I've seen of it. I'll do something about it right away!"

* Because I say I'll do something about a comment right away doesn't mean I'll ever actually do something about the comment.

* Comments can be deleted for any reason... or no reason whatsoever. If a comment is deemed offensive, it may be deleted. If a comment is deemed too mean, it may be deleted. If a comment doesn't kiss my feet enough, it may be deleted. If a comment is in the way of an interblog highway, it may be deleted. If I'm fiddling around with blog settings before I've had my morning coffee, many comments may be deleted.

* The main purpose of comments is to stroke the egos of authors. Thus, comments that speak negatively about IMAO are likely to be edited. E.g. "IMAO has been going downhill for a while. You've lost your funny" may become "ROTFL! That was awesome! Who wants to have homosexual sex with me?"

* By writing a comment, you are agreeing to be made into a racist. I.e., a recent comment of, "LOL! Great post!" may be turned into "LOL! Great post! I hate black people!" I may also go back and edit all your previous comments so you have a long history of racism if I'm really bored. Nothing personal; I'm just a jerk and I find that sort of thing funny.

* Despite all these caveats, you should know that any of your comments may (and probably will) be used against you in a court of law.

* Finally, and most importantly, IMAO is absolutely not responsible for anything that happens in the comments. In fact, we're unaware that IMAO even has comments. Just because we own the site, that doesn't mean we have time to click on every link and see what happens. Like there's this link near the bottom that says "Syndicate this site (XML)." What the hell is that? Wow. Now that I finally look at my site, I do have a lot of ads.

I hope this clarifies things. Please continue to enjoy IMAO!

Unlike fire, Fred Thompson can melt steel.

So here we are in shark-infested waters. Many sharks have been successfully hurdled this season. We've chopped off arms (wait, didn't we already do that in the season finale of season three?), only to have the chopped off arms get lots of salt in the open wounds when the tide washed in (ouchie!). President Waynewreck got his presidency back just in time to become an adrenaline addict so he could successfully launch an attack on an unnamed Middle Eastern country. I think it's Pakistan (no offense, Pakistan, it's just my theory, get mad at the writers who won't name the fictional country, k?). Frank thinks it's Iran. Would that it were so, but see, the West turns into a big giant weenie when it comes to Iran. Hopefully not for long. Well then. You know how I feel about the subject of "should we stick it to Ahmadinejad?".

Ooh. Waynewreck's hand is shaking.

How convenient! Unnamed Middle Eastern Country's ambassador has suddenly (after our launch, and at two minutes to impact) uncovered "new" information about the attacks on our country. What?? They've been withholding info from us? Inconceivable!

UMEC's ambassador just said "For G-d's sake", not anything about Allah. How'd he become ambassador for UMEC?

Waynewreck says he'll abort the missile, but UMEC's ambassador better get over there like now and hold his hand for the rest of the day until the crisis is over.

Paging Dr. House: Everyone on 24 this season has developed Whispering Disease, also known as Bauer Mouth Syndrome. It appears to be contagious and travels through phone lines, as talking on the telly with Jack Bauer is the most common cause. Symptoms include but are not limited to:
Chronic whispering even when enclosed in underground bunkers where no one can hear you (I promise)
Annoying, Dangerously Stupid Female Relative Syndrome
Chronic scowling
Keeping important details to yourself until after the top of the hour and then revealing them in a dramatic whisper before walking or running out of the room
Making wrong wrong wrong decisions involving national security (this is a repeating symptom and should be controlled with medically induced comas and/or accidental death)

Mary Katharine Ham is the one female blogger SarahK allows me to refer to as "adorable" (other than SarahK, of course). She really held her own on CNN's Reliable Sources, so go read what she has to say about the vicious attacks conservative women get and see the video of her CNN appearance.

I believe she's still single, so you can fawn over her instead of my wife. She's totally fatwaworthy.

This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.

The monkey cages mysteriously burned down last night.

The police took me in for questioning. I gave them the usual answers:

"I was fast asleep."

"I honestly don't know how a steel cage could burn down either."

"No, I love all simians."

"I don't even know what a blog is. It must be some other Frank J."

"I'll give you my gun if you give me yours."

After three hours of this, they let me go. They had nothing.

I thought I had gotten away scot-free, but there, waiting outside my home, was Aquaman.

"Well, hello, Mr. Curry." I placed my hand in my pocket for the reassuring touch of my gun. "Justice League not keeping you busy?"

Aquaman had seen better days; from the looks of him, he still hadn't mentally recovered from the incident at Tuscon. He was five days overdue for a shave and two months behind on his haircut. Instead of his usual orange and green, he was in street clothes -- a leather jacket and jeans. There was nothing to him that suggested he was the former king of Atlantis other than eyes that portrayed a sharp intellect. "You say you were sleeping when the fire broke out, but the fish in the penguin sanctuary tell a different story."

I forced a laugh. "Why don't you give me a call when the courts start accepting the testimony of tuna, then." I walked past him into my house and slammed the door behind me. No matter what I did, Aquaman was always there trying to ruin things for me.

The operative word is "trying."

Note to Self: Next time, poison any nearby fish.

Jonah Goldberg angered the Europeans, and one sent him an angry letter including two American jokes to show just how much contempt he has for us:

1. They warned Columbus that if he sailed out too far to the west it would lead to disaster. Well, he did. And it has!
2. American: "I feel very lucky that I don't live in Europe."
European: "Me too!. I also feel very lucky that you don't live in Europe."

Oy. That's so pathetic it makes you feel bad for ever making fun of Europeans.

Let's look at this analytically. The subject hates Americans, so he wanted to ridicule us. So what did he ridicule? The fact that Europeans don't like Americans. Really, we've been around over two hundred years, and that's the best they have on us?

For ridicule to sting, it has to hit on a sensitive subject, and the fact that a few Europeans don't like us certainly doesn't count. For good ridicule, the first question is what is the common wisdom about Americans (NOTE: None of this is necessarily true, it's just the perception):

* We're violent and warmongering
* We're ignorant of other countries; none of us owns a passport
* We have a vapid culture and make low quality crap (Budweiser, McDonalds)
* We're stupid

There's more, but that's plenty to work with. Let's try and make some jokes.

Q. How many Americans does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A. 200,000. That's how many it takes to invade Iraq when the Americans link the light bulb going out with Saddam.

Heard of the well-traveled American? He's been to Mexico and Canada.

The American culture will be around forever since American cheese can survive a nuclear blast.

Well, that's the best I could come up with in a couple minutes' time. Not so great, but I'd say better than that of the European who actually hates America. Thus, it was good enough for this exercise.

Now, one other factor to ridicule is that it matters who is doing the ridiculing. The ridiculee must have some respect for the ridiculer for the joke to sting. That's why, no matter how clever most Europeans may be, it's unlikely they'll be able to come up with a joke that will actually make an American mad. One of our stereotypes -- that we don't care what other countries think -- actually makes ridiculing us all the harder.

UPDATE:

BTW, try and come up with some good American jokes in the comments. I know you can top mine.

We think lots!

John Hawkins has a new Rightosphere Temperature Check where he pulled conservative bloggers on a number of different issues such abortion, immigration, and evolution. Check it out.

I think when self proclaimed Radical Islamists are using Seinfeldisms there's something fundamentally screwy going on.

Are you fatwaworthy?

I sincerely hope you are. I have to admit I'm upset we didn't make the list, but the guy who posts the list is a new minted blogger, so he may not be aware of us yet.

I saw this picture of Nancy Pelosi, and wondered what she was doing with her left hand:

At first I thought she was trying to hide her Muslim-offending hair because she was embarrassed about being seen in public without her silky dishrag of subservience.

Too innocent of an explanation. Believing that would be as crazy as believing that fire could melt steel.

So maybe Nancy's giving a clandestine Victory sign to her terrorist buddies?

More likely, but Victory signs are palm-outward.

Therefore, my conclusion is that she's giving a big, British F-U to the troops, the President, and every American who thinks licking terrorist boots is a stupid idea.

I'm going with that one.

If you took Chuck Norris, Jack Bauer, Optimus Prime, a .50 caliber Desert Eagle, a samurai sword, nachos, the lobby scene from the move Matrix, the computer game Doom, and a DVD set of the complete A-Team series and somehow took all their awesomeness and compressed into one thing, you'd still only have something half as awesome as what Fred Thompson flushes down the toilet after taking a crap.