Archive of entries posted on August 2003

Poll Results

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BTW, plenty is happening at the Alliance Headquarters, including a way to watch our traffic overtake Instapundit.
It’s time now to retire some of my rotating polls.
It’s official, people hate monkeys.
What is your opinion of monkeys?
I hate monkeys. – 175 votes (82%)
I am a Communist. – 38 votes (18%)
I say the introduction of caseless round firearms could solve this problem… it could solve a number of these problems.
What is the biggest problem facing our nation?
Ninjas – 18 votes (7%)
Ammo is too expensive – 108 votes (40%)
Dearth of sexy dames who want go out with me – 72 votes (27%)
Too many squirrels – 72 votes (27%)
But my neighbor’s dog is just a little chiuaua. I blame Whitey.
Who is to blame?
The Jews – 30 votes (13%)
Minorities – 36 votes (16%)
White people – 38 votes (17%)
My neighbor’s dog – 123 votes (54%)
I thought this one was pretty obvious if Ironman had to wear his helmet.
Who would win in a pie eating contest between the Green Lantern and Ironman?
The Green Lantern – 86 votes (52%)
Ironman – 61 votes (37%)
It’s a tie – 19 votes (11%)
I don’t know how people were voting on this. I would have said Mothra, because what the hell could it do?
If you had to choose which monster would attack your city, which one would it be?
Godzilla – 55 votes (28%)
King Kong – 29 votes (15%)
Mothra – 33 votes (17%)
Michael Moore – 81 votes (41%)
Okay; I’m so f–king sorry for asking.
What is your opinion on swearing?
I don’t give a f–k. – 85 votes (37%)
Only dumb f–ks swear. – 54 votes (23%)
Who the f–k are you to be asking this? – 92 votes (40%)
Wow, almost completely even split between all the answers, which adds up to 3 to 1 that the Dell interns should die.
What should be done to the Dell interns from the Dell commercials?
They should be executed by firing squad. – 58 votes (25%)
They should be thrown into a vat of boiling oil. – 55 votes (24%)
They should be drawn and quartered. – 58 votes (25%)
I like the amusing antics of the Dell interns. – 58 votes (25%)
Fine. Jesus kicks my ass.
What is your opinion of IMAO?
It’s better than Jesus. – 30 votes (16%)
It’s on par with Jesus. – 25 votes (13%)
I bet Jesus could write better satire. – 135 votes (71%)
Good. I’d rather be ruled by robots.
What do you think is the more likely future scenario?
Civilization is overthrown by robots (ala Terminator) – 105 votes (61%)
Civilization is overthrown by monkeys (ala Planet of the Apes) – 66 votes (39%)
Godbless the 28 people who said I’m the sexiest man alive… and you better have been women. I’m not a metrosexual.
What best describes Frank J.?
The sexiest man alive – 28 votes (13%)
The smartest man alive – 58 votes (28%)
Dumb as a mule and twice as ugly – 122 votes (59%)
How ironic.
How often do you vote in internet polls?
All the time. I love internet polls! – 52 votes (26%)
Occasionally, and only when the subject interests me. – 55 votes (28%)
I never vote in internet polls. – 93 votes (47%)
And here is the last poll I’m retiring today:

What do you have to say about Glenn Reynolds of Instapundit.com?
Damnable puppy blender! – 62 votes (25%)
He should link to IMAO more. – 32 votes (13%)
I stopped reading him after he got all “political”. – 17 votes (7%)
Indeed. – 135 votes (55%)

Indeed.
I’ll think up some more polls because I care about your opinions.

Know Thy Enemy: Hamas

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Israel just can’t seem to get a compromise between their desire to not be blown up and the Palestinians’ desire to blow them up. Thus, I sent my crack research staff to find out as much as they can about one of the main players: Hamas.
FUN FACTS ABOUT HAMAS
* Hamas was founded in 1987 according to some site I found with Google. I was eight years old then and wanted to be a fireman or an astronaut. Blowing up Jews had not crossed my mind.
* Hamas is Arabic for “dumb f–ks with explosives”.
* Contrary to popular belief, Hamas has nothing to do with ham. Actually, if you throw hams at them, they’ll get angry.
* I don’t like to loosely throw around charges of anti-Semitism, but I don’t think Hamas members like Jews.
* One of the reasons that they keep attacking is that none of the Hamas members knows what “ceasefire” means and are too embarrassed to ask.
* Suicide bombings started when parents found out how much money they would save if their kids just blew themselves up instead of going to college.
* If you see a Hamas member, shout, “Hey! Look! It’s a Jew!” Maybe he’ll set himself off early. Dumbass.
* If a Hamas member says he wants peace, it’s a trick! Shoot him the head.
* If a Hamas member says he wants to borrow the sports section from your newspaper, it’s a trick! Shoot him in the head.
* Be careful; Hamas members are quite wily, ranking up there in intelligence with squirrels.
* Hamas members smell. It’s not nice to say, but it’s true.
* Hamas has a wing that’s devoted to charities. They need to make sure that all Palestinians children are healthy and grow up to be big and strong so they can blow themselves up.
* The French, enemies of all that is good and just in this world, are considering having some of their charities join those of Hamas. Expect more attacks from Hamas in the future that involves smelly cheese.
* Hamas members don’t like contact with pigs, so I think it would be funny to feed them to pigs like in the movie Hannibal.
* That was really gross when Hannibal had Ray Liotta eat his own brain.
* I’ve strayed off topic.
* We should trick Hamas members into eating their own brains.
* If you’re in a cafe in Israel, and someone runs in there and indiscriminately starts shooting people, he could be a member of Hamas, so be careful.
* Hamas is a big part of the “cycle of violence”. They blow up innocent men, women, and children, and then Israel is like, “Hey, don’t do that.” And thus the cycle of violence continues.
* The cycle of violence will continue until the Palestinians stop being such a bunch of numbnuts… or if Israel finally gets fed up and nukes them all.
* Even though members of Hamas are out gunned and out smarted by Israel, they think they can defeat Israel because Allah is on their side. Isn’t that cute.
* Hamas members think they go the Heaven when they commit a suicide bombing where they get 72 virgins, but instead they go to hell where they get jabbed in the ass with a pitchfork ad infinitum.
* Actually, I’m Catholic; I think everyone is going to hell. Hey you, reading this: you’re going to hell. Seriously.
* In a fight between Hamas and Aquaman, Aquaman would like totally kick their asses. His fish friends would be like, “Hey, let us have a piece of them!” but Aquaman would say, “No! They’re mine!” And then one Hamas member would be like, “Please, have mercy, Aquaman!” and Aquaman would be like, “No!” and punch the guy through the chest and rip out his heart. Aquaman is a badass!
* Hamas tends to yell and complain a lot when Israel targets and kills their leaders. Someone should tell them to stop being such a bunch of babies.
* Sometimes Hamas members blow themselves up in their own apartments when they try making bombs. That makes me giggle. Hee hee.
* My grandfather was a member of Hamas.
* No, wait, he was in the IRA. They just blew up the British people who deserved it because… ah, I don’t actually know anything about that conflict. I think it involves the color orange.
* I’ve gone off topic again.
* Maybe Isarelis and Hamas could all get along if they just hugged.
* No! Don’t hug the Hamas members; it’s a trick! They’re just going to blow up!
* You know, Hamas could just plant bombs without blowing themselves up… or at least that’s what I’d do if I were a subhuman, murderous Jew-hater.
* Hamas won’t rest until the Jews are pushed out into the sea. That will significantly improve the GDP of the sea.
* If you make a Mexican laugh, and he wants an encore, he’d say, “Ha! Mas!”
* I think that means I’m about out of fun facts.
* The best way to handle Hamas is to be really patient. I’m sure Arafat will deal with them… eventually. Oh, and monkeys might fly out of my butt.

Links of the Day

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Seattle worships Cyber-Lenin!
Norwegian Blogger is back! He was gone you ask? Anyway, I haven’t linked to someone in Norway in a while so here’s a story of his.
Spoons takes down some silly British bint (neat word; I hope it’s not vulgar) who pretends to not like guns.
I’ve been following a bit behind on blogging, e-mails, and blog warring. I’ll have to do some catching up this weekend. Now what to post about tomorrow…

The Enemy is Relentless

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White Glenn used the celebration of another year of evil to attack the fearless leader of the Blogger Alliance (though ordering the Third Season of the Simpson through the banner on my sidebar is a good idea). We cannot stand for this. Alliance members orders of attack are here. Plus, Blackfive is set up to start recording each Alliance member’s specialty. Plus, check out the headquarters for more on White Glenn evil, a history of the blog war, and a photo of the Axis of Naughty at their meeting.
And keep chanting our new meaningless protest slogan:

Frank on Guns: Pack’n Heat

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So now that you have your guns, where do you put them? You could just leave them lying all over your residence, but that’s sloppy and might bother some visitors. Instead, more careful planning is needed.
For home, at minimum you need a shotgun in your closet. Do you have a shotgun in your closet? If not, what the hell are you doing sitting here when you don’t even have a shotgun? Terrorists could jump through the windows at any moment and you’re defenseless. Stop right now and go to Wal-Mart or something by yourself a damn shotgun. I think INS should be able to deport you if you don’t have a shotgun.
Other than that, you should have more strategic goals for your residence. Rachel Lucas was happy she got a house with as many rooms as she has guns, but one gun per room is minimum. Did you see the movie Spiderman? At the very end when Harry Osborn sees Spiderman drop off his dead father, POW! He pulls opens a drawer and has a gun in right in hand with hardly a thought. That’s what your home should be like; always a gun in arms length, because you never known when you might get attacked by Spiderman, who could be as bad as J. Jonah Jameson says.
I have something I call the “Two-Step Rule”. Anywhere in your house you should never be more than two-steps from a gun. Places where you remain stationary a lot, such as in front of your computer or couch in front of the T.V., a gun should be in arms length. In a worse case, “ninjas just broke in through all my entrances” you’ll be immediately prepared. Drawers are always a good place to put a gun, and decorative, leather-bound books hollowed out can be quite stylish. In the kitchen, you can just use a box of cereal. Plus, that gives you a good kill’n line (“There’s a prize inside for you.” Start shooting him again. “Collect them all!”).
The problem is that some people worry about easy access to guns when they have kids. Well, I don’t have kids, so I know you’ll all like my objective opinion on them. Now, while a trigger lock will keep a gun safe from kids, it can also keeps it safe from criminals. When people are screaming, and bullets are flying everywhere, you don’t want to be fumbling around with some combo or small key. Instead, you should just teach your children not to shoot his or her self. Hand the child a gun, and, if she points it at you or others, smack the child on the head and say, “No!” If you still think your child may take a gun and fire it, I’d think of getting rid of him or her. No reason to put your safety at risk because your kid is dumb. There are plenty of sites on the internet where you can sell your kid (and get another gun with the money). Just, when selling the kid, don’t mention it’s from gun stupidity; instead, say something like you’re moving to place where they don’t allow kids. Instead of kids, try a dog; it has less of a desire to mess with your guns though it does shed more.
Now that we covered guns in the home, what about on your person? There are many holsters to choose from, but, remember, the guns has to get to your hand to be fired; the holster can’t fire it itself (note to self: make self firing holster). You may have to wear different clothing to carry a gun, shirts that are untucked to conceal your firearm. I’ve told everyone my choice, though, that seems to work well with any clothing choice. A former police officer told me the best holster is a special fanny pack meant for quick access to the gun. Those in the know (criminals) can tell that means you have a gun, and will probably leave you alone to attack the guy wear the Hanggun Control Inc. t-shirt. Those not in the know, though, will call you gay for having a fanny pack, and, in most states, you can’t pull a gun on someone just for calling you gay (otherwise gay people could pull guns on everyone).
One idea of mine is a wallet gun. A guy mugs you, then, you pull out your wallet and shoot him with a .45 bullet concealed inside. Then the mugger will be like, “Woe is me; I’ve been shot by a .45.” But even my friends at my college gun club thought that was a dumb idea.
I know what you’re all thinking: “I want a holster like Robert DeNiro in Taxi Driver where the gun just pops into my hand.” The problem is, that’s just not practical because… hmm… well maybe if… no, it’s not practical to have a gun up your sleeve… then again, if you had a coat with wide sleeves… no, the weight would be too much throughout the day… though, maybe you could get used to it… but what if you’re shaking someone’s hands and it just pops out? Well, I guess there could be some safeties to it.
On second thought, I’m going to look into making one of those holsters and see how it works out.
Anyway, the thing to remember about where or however you keep you firearms is KISS – Keep It Simple, Stupid. You want to be able to quickly get your gun in hand and operate it since at the time you may be very panicked or very mad.
Next week I’ll end this series with a discussion of gun care. Happy shooting.

When it Rains, it Pours

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I just said I don’t get much hate mail, but now I’ve got some more. First off, I got this e-mail:

Please dude tell me are you a leftie or a righty. Are you taking the piss out of Bush, or really, deeply stupid, I’ve just got to know.

So my choices are to either “take the piss” out of Bush or to be stupid. I inquired back to the writer whether he is stupid so I have a reference.
Then I made a gun nut angry (you don’t want to make gun nuts angry). In the comments of my post of gun calibers, this comment was left (edited for bad words):

Who the f–k told this guy that guns were for killing? Are all arrows for killing? How about all darts or blowguns?
Whatever jackass thinks this article is worth a f–k needs to shove his opinion squarely where it came from. The last thing I need as a gun owner and advocate is some jackoff describing cartridges with adjectives like “kill’n activator”.
Guns don’t kill with bullets any more than people kill with instruments. This asshat should stfu, he’s not helping educate anyone. I’ve got more problems defending my Title II ownership than I care to deal with, and I don’t need the dregs of society equating what I do with “kill’n”.
I’m anon because I’m not in the mood to answer illogical flames or trolls.
Oh, and .380 is a serious caliber ‘eh? Idiot. I could illustrate this with a wet Navy overcoat, but I digress. This post is to address the jackass who feeds the liberal media more tripe to show the soccerm–s.

Wouldn’t it be cool if the liberal media actually paid me any attention? And making fun of my poor .380 caliber just because it’s too small to defend itself is pretty low.
Let me make this clear: Guns are for killing.
When the first gun was invented, Bob did not say, “Wow! This will be great for putting holes in paper!” He said, “Cool! Let’s kill sumt’n!”
And, if I got a gun and it wasn’t good at killing people, I’d march right back to the firearm store and say, “This gun is defective; it won’t kill people. Could I exchange it for something more adept at the killing of man?”
Sure, there are target pistols, but the original point of those was to train yourself for better killing with other guns. Sure most people only use guns for target practice these days (well, and a lot of hunt’n which involves kill’n) but most guns are still made with kill’n in mind. They are not just a long distance version of a hole puncher. I ain’t gonna deny reality so the liberals feel less threatened (I want them more threatened… more!).
Anyway, it seems there is some concern that dumb people will stumble onto my site and misinterpret things (and it has happened already). That was especially a concern of my White Glenn is a Nazi joke, that some idiots would stumble on to this and think, “Glenn Reynolds actually is a Nazi!”. I’m thinking of putting a warning on each page that IMAO is about satire, but it is not always crystal clear on what is the parody, so this site is not meant for dumb people. Since dumb people deserve entertainment too, I could then link to an alternate site for them, something with blinking colors and dancing hamsters maybe.

In My World: The Rumsfeld Strangler vs. Cyber-Lenin Part III

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Part I
Part II
“We hold this press conference to announce that the Democrats control the government,” Hillary Clinton said as the Hell’s Democrats biker gang drove around the White House lawn. “No one can stop us!”
“No one?” asked a reporter.
“No one!” Hillary responded.
“We, the elite media, hail the rise of the Democrats to power; should the stupid people in fly-over country do the same?” asked another reporter.
“That question is tough but fair,” Hillary responded, “All who are against us are intolerant and will be placed in tolerance camps to learn the errors of their ways, such as supporting wars because of ‘national security’ or ‘morals’ instead of the only reason for wars, a poorly defined concept of multilateralism.”
“Me likey Democrats!” shouted one reporter.
“Another intelligent question,” Hillary answered, “You reporters sure are nice.”
“Isn’t the only reason you’ve come to power because of the Pure Commie Evil of Cyber-Lenin?” Fox News reporter Melinda Hawkish challenged, “And aren’t your plans to turn America into a weakened, quasi-Europe.”
“Blasphemer!” Hillary shouted along with the other reporters, all fingers pointed at Melinda. “Right wing bias! She must be silenced to restore order!”
“But I am fair and balanced!” Melinda protested, but a gorilla-like union thug grabbed her. “I’ll kill you all!” she shouted before her mouth was covered up.
“Now that’s it’s just us professional, unbiased media types,” Lefty Stevens of CNN said to Hillary, “I’d like to ask you how you plan to celebrate your seizure of power which experts I shall not name agree is a great thing.”
“We’ve decided that the monuments on the Mall must go!” Hillary declared, “One celebrates the first Republican president, whom we declare evil! The other is an obvious phallic symbol and must be destroyed. Later today we will demolish them both and replace them with new monuments. One will be a monument to gun confiscations, and the joys of powerlessness. The other a monument to taxation, and how lovely it is for us smarter people in government to take your money at the point of the aforementioned confiscated guns. Another monument will be a celebration of hippies and all, poorly informed, nigh-retarded, political activists. Finally, there will be a shrine to the almighty abortion at which we can all bow and worship, praying for the end of the scourge of babies once and for all!”
The reporters all applauded while the union thug dragged Melinda away. As he neared an alleyway, someone blocked him.
“That ain’t the way you treat a lady,” Buck the Marine said angrily.
“Me like union. Me like Democrats. Me smash!” the union thug yelled.
“We’ll see what my fists have to say about that,” Buck said, knocking out the union thug with a swift punch. “Ooh-rah!” He then looked to Melinda. “Are you alright? You aren’t one of those feminist chicks who don’t like being saved, are ya?”
“No, thanks, Buck,” Melinda said.
“There’s big trouble about,” Buck stated, “A crazy, flying robot Commie destroyed my weaponry.”
“Weaponry or not, we have to stop Hillary Clinton and the Hell’s Democrat’s,” Melinda responded, “They want to blow up the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial.”
Buck growled angrily. “Not in my America.”

“D.C. is a parasitic entity,” Cyber-Lenin mused to himself as he flew over the landscape, “I need a place of real industry to corrupt with my Pure Commie Evil.” He spied some factories near a port. “Perfect,” he laughed evilly as he landed.
He charged up with Pure Commie Evil, ready to destroy, but suddenly a blast hit Cyber-Lenin, knocking him off his feet. He turned to see behind him Robo-Rumsfeld, armored in a suit of Uninhibited Capitalism that glowed red, white, and blue.
“Damn you, Rumsfeld Strangler!” Cyber-Lenin yelled, “Your effects of capitalism befoul me!”
“Then why don’t you cry to your mommy, Commie?” Rumsfeld said as he threw a punch, knocking Cyber-Lenin through a nearby wall. Cyber-Lenin countered with a red blast of Pure Commie Evil, stunning Rumsfeld, and then charged Rumsfeld, knocking him down.
“You will soon discover that nothing – nothing! – is more powerful than Pure Commie Evil!” Cyber-Lenin shouted, preparing to blast Rumsfeld again.
Rumsfeld rolled out of the way and jumped to his feet. “Whatever, Mecha-Pinko.” He then came at Cyber-Lenin with a series of capitalism-powered punches, knocking Cyber-Lenin backwards. Rumsfeld then let loose a red, white, and blue blast of Uninhibited Capitalism. Cyber-Lenin tried to block it with a shield of Pure Commie Evil, but it powered through and struck him to the ground.
“No! This can’t be!” Cyber-Lenin shouted, “Nothing can defeat Pure Commie Evil! It’s the most powerful thing known to man!”
“The most powerful thing known to man is a pissed-off American,” Rumsfeld said, preparing to finish off his nemesis.
“We will finish this later!” Cyber-Lenin vowed, flying away over the ocean.
Suddenly a large tail came out of the water, and knocked Cyber-Lenin back to earth. “No escape for you!” said a booming voice. There, riding a whale, was a man with green pants and an orange shirt.
“Aquaman!” Rumsfeld exclaimed, “The homo crime fighter of the sea.”
“I’m not gay!” Aquaman responded, “I just like flamboyant clothing.”
Distracted, Rumsfeld was knocked down with blast of Pure Commie Evil. “If I can’t escape,” Cyber Lenin announced, “I will destroy us all.” He took out a red glowing orb. “This is a Commie Bombie. It will destroy everything within a mile radius with its Pure Commie Evil.” Cyber-Lenin moved to press the trigger, but suddenly he screamed in pain as something struck his hand. The Commie Bombie rolled harmlessly into the sea, while Cyber Lenin pulled a letter opener out of his hand.
“Someone call for a White House Press Secretary?” Scott McClellan said proudly, his floral pattern cape flapping in the wind.
“Could you have been any later?” Rumsfeld asked angrily as he got to his feet. He looked to Cyber-Lenin who stood up now too. “Time to cross you off my blacklist,” Rumsfeld snarled. “You’ve made a lot of mistakes, Lenin. You fell for the evil of Communism, you killed millions with your Soviet Union, and you dared to stand against America. But your worst and last mistake was HURTING MY DOG! RARRRRRRR!” Rumsfeld rage fueled the capitalistic energy in his suit into a chaotic fury. It charged up about him, and then blasted forward at Cyber-Lenin, sending him flying into the air where he exploded into a display of fireworks. A little red beard then softly floated to earth.
“Let’s see them preserve that body,” Rumsfeld laughed.
“We fought him like real superheroes!” Scott exclaimed.
“Yeah,” Rumsfeld answered, “and now we get to go to a bar where you’ll treat me to a beer.”
“Can I come too?” Aquaman asked.
“It’s not that kind of bar,” Rumsfeld answered, “Why don’t you go sleep with the fishes.”

“Are you sure you know how to rewire explosives?” Melinda asked.
“If it involves killer’n, I knows it,” Buck answered.
“Quick, the ceremony is about to start!” Melinda warned.
“And now, to destroy the evil monuments!” Hillary said, preparing to use the detonator as crowds of cheering hippies watched. When she hit the button, though, the crowds of hippies exploded instead. “What?” Hillary exclaimed as she and the Hell’s Democrats looked on in shock.
“Decided it was time to put an end to your… uh… being Democrats,” Buck said, stepping forward as the mist of red settled.
“Tom Smashle, stop him!” Hillary ordered. Senator Daschle charged Buck, but he responded with a slap to Daschle’s face which sent Daschle running back crying.
“I feel weak and whiny again,” Daschle said.
“The Pure Commie Evil must have worn off,” Hillary said, “That means Cyber-Lenin is dead! We have to escape.”
She and the Hell’s Democrats began to flee, but suddenly they heard the click-clack of claws against pavement. There before them stood a four-legged figure. Two blood shot eyes stared at them. A row of jagged teeth shined in the light. A growl emanated from the creature, and it’s whole body shook with rage.
“That dog looks angry,” Hillary said.
“Very angry,” Daschle added.

“George W. Bush has returned to power,” the anchorwoman announced, “When asked how it felt to return, Bush beat the crap out of the reporter just for the hell of it and then yelled, ‘Yee-ha!’ while firing his guns in the air. Everything in the White House is now back to normal, except for one set of drapes that is reportedly missing.
“In other news, Sen. Hillary Clinton, Sen. Tom Daschle, Sen. John Kerry, Rep. Dick Gephardt, and Gov. Howard Dean are all missing and presumed mauled by a very angry dog.”
“Also, in Maryland, police have found the remains of what they believe to be Lenin. They relate the homicide to the infamous D.C. serial murderer the Rumsfeld Strangler. At the scene was found a note reading, ‘I’m Donald Rumsfeld. I blew up this guy.’ Penciled in the corner of the note is, ‘I’m Scott McClellan. I helped.’ Police believe this means the Rumsfeld Strangler has an accomplice, someone they have dubbed ‘Chokehold-lad’. He is believed to have a semi-sharp letter opener, and should be considered dangerous. While there are no witnesses of either of them, profilers say that the Rumsfeld Strangler is probably a overweight, seventeen-year-old Filipino girl with a wooden leg, while Chokehold-lad is most likely a pudgy white man in his mid-thirties with a thankless job in speaking.”
Ernst Blofeld watched the T.V. quietly. Finally, the silence was broken.
“You know,” Black Manta said, “If we only had defeated Aqua…”
“Don’t even say it!” Blofeld shouted, “The Rumsfeld Strangler may have won this time, but we’ll eventually do away with him and destroy America. Muh ha ha ha!”
“And Aquaman,” Black Manta added, “Don’t forget about Aquaman.”
“Fine, and we’ll defeat Aquaman too,” Blofeld said and then turned to the rest of the Legion of Doom. “So who wants to go to T.G.I. Fridays?”
THE END

Links of the Day

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Jarred Nicholls of [Think About It] is going to be doing a four part series on the truth about Palestine (or, as many call it, “Palestine”). Here is the intro and here is part 1. Check it out and be informed.
Rachel Lucas responded to the Frank Answers™ question about her in the comments section, and then goes ballistic at the media’s plans for September 11th (or lack of it).
MYONGWATCH! Myong wants you to vote for Democrats to help North Korea. Must… do… as… Myong… says…
John Hawkins has right-wingers picks for the worst figures of the 20th century. I actually forgot to include Lenin on my list. Actually, here were my picks:
Hitler
Mussolini
Stalin
Chairman Mao
Pol Pot
Margaret Sanger
Ho Chi Minh
Kim Il-sung
Rosenbergs
Castro
Goebbels
Josef Mengele
Ayatollah Khomeini
Jane Fonda
Bill Clinton
Jane Goodall
Michelllllllle is a Zionazi Jewpropgandist… or so says media from Indiana.
Also, for Alliance members, I have orders at the headquarters along with some new anti-Instapundit propaganda.

At Least She Didn’t Say Anything About My Momma

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I hadn’t gotten any good hate mail in a while, but suddenly I got this juicy one:

Your embarassing style of “look at me” loserhood, your political beliefs, your “I’m so into violence and bumper stickers, I wish I had the balls to put 88 and 14 words on my website” can all be analysed, broken down and directly attributed to the same cause.
Your father was a wimp.

Damn! Attacking my old man even. That ain’t right.
Anyone confused about the reference to numbers, that has something to do with Neo-Nazi symbolism I believe (it was brought up once on Best of the Web). If anyone could enlighten us in the comments section, it would be appreciated.
Now, I’ve heard people call my father many things, but not a wimp. They guy is a Vietnam Vet, used to repossess cars in South Central L.A., and, even though he’s getting up in the years, I bet he could still kick my ass. But, I’m assuming who wrote this probably ran into one thing on my site and isn’t very familiar with what I write as a whole, so let’s play pretend.
I’ll set the scene: Along with humorous commentary on my blog, I also share stories about my dad’s courageous battle with Parkinson’s disease. So, when I get an e-mail calling my father a wimp, I assume the person had been reading my site and is making fun of my father’s condition. Thus, I respond first with confusion and sadness followed by righteous anger.
Action!

I don’t follow all you’re talking about, but why in the world would you insult my father? I share stories of his fight against Parkinson’s to give strength to others, not so some degenerate can insult him about it. I’ve never been so disgusted.
-Frank

Short and simple. I’ll tell you if she responds.

Bite-Sized Wisdom: Religion, Standing Strong in Iraq, Al Fraken, Hypocrisy, the Frank Gun Control Challenge, Bill Clinton, Michael Moore, and How to Keep My Money

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  • Dude, they’re like trying to take the 10 Commandments away. I know for a fact the founding fathers never meant religion to be the least protected speech, but that’s what we keep acting like. People keep saying they don’t want other to be unduly influenced, but, come on, we all know Christianity is the true religion. I mean, would Jesus lie? We’re going to make God angry with our behavior, and then we won’t win all the time and he’ll plague us with locusts and hippies.
  • More trying to make God angry: they have a high school classes in Michigan that has kids reading anti-American tripe by people like that moral-gnome Chomsky. That’s child abuse. Send those teachers to jail and then have the kids write essays on why America has the right to attack any country they damn well feel like.
  • We keep hearing bad news from Iraq, and I hope we can turn things around there soon. Some people just want us to turn tail and run, but there is no way we’re doing that again. We have to let terrorists and other mentally challenged people know that you if you piss us off, we won’t rest until you are dead. Nemo Me Impune Lacessit! (that’s Latin for “If you mess with me, I’ll f–k you up.”)
  • And when are we finally going to attack Saudi Arabia? I’m tired of seeing those rat bastards walking around in sheets all unshot and everything. We have like a surprise attack planned, right? It’s a lot of princes to kill, but, man, there is so much oil to steal. I hope we have enough equipment. Yeah, that’s right, we take our oil, leave, and let Israel clean up the rest.
  • Fox News dropped their lawsuit against Al Fraken. My legal opinion about this is that I hate Al Fraken. I wish someone would punch him. Is there a legal precedent for that?
  • You hear about this? They’re trying to do wind power in Cape Cod, but all the liberals like Ted Kennedy are opposed to it because it messes up their view. Wind power is like a wet dream for environmentalists, but I guess they only think poor people should have to deal with eyesores. Don’t get me wrong – I still think wind power is gay – I just like pointing out the hypocrisy. Liberals are so full of it. You don’t how many anti-gun-nuts out there actually own guns, have conceal carry permits, or have armed body guards. So they get protection, but no one else. Liberals just hate poor people and don’t trust them; that’s the only explanation for their behavior.
  • That reminds me of what I call the Frank Gun Control Challenge™. I’m tired of dealing with the convoluted logic of anti-gun nuts, so I have this simple challenge to prove the fallacy of their arguments. In the challenge, they stand on one side and let loose their best arguments, while, I stand opposite of them and shoot at them with my .45. If any of their anti-gun tripe can stop my bullet, they win. Otherwise I win. Some may now say, “Hey! That doesn’t prove anything!” To which I respond, “I still have more bullets in this gun.” Many will continue to think (but no longer voice) that nothing was proven, but some may now say, “Ah ha!” and achieve enlightenment.
  • While most of Hollywood are leftists, pretty much every time you see a celebrity run for office he or she is a Republican. Why? Because running for political office means getting challenged on your views, and Hollywood leftists are nigh retarded. Wouldn’t you love to see Barbara Streisand get eviscerated in a political debate? Not gonna happen.
  • Bill Clinton is going to give Gray Davis the kiss of death while Giuliani is going to campaign for Schwarzenegger – and Giuliani actually got Bloomberg elected. Things are looking up for Ah-nuld.
  • Who wants to bet that Bill Clinton will one day be found dead in a cheap motel room by a prostitue, OD’s on some designer drug. I just don’t see him going out any other way.
  • File this under “If I had more time” department: I think it would be cool to find a big pile of manure, put a baseball cap on top, take a picture of me standing next to it, and then post the picture on my webpage saying, “Hey, look! I met Michael Moore!” Only problem is that I don’t know where to find a big pile of manure and I don’t own any baseball caps. Oh well.
  • I think I got a lead on the monkey that stole my stereo. Ends up he’s been going town to town doing that. I also think he may be the chimp that shot me. I feel like such a fool for not recognizing him, but I’ll hunt him down; this I swear.
  • Speaking of monkeys, I don’t like Democrats. They want to raise my taxes; I just know it. They’re probably plotting about it right now. I saw this documentary about how a coyote will try to catch it’s prey, and one method is to paint a tunnel onto a rock wall. We should do that and put of a sign pointing to the phony tunnel saying, “Angry, Dumb People This Way.” Then the Democrats will be like, “Wow! Those people should vote for us!” So they’ll drive their campaign buses right into the wall and my money will be saved from their thieving hands.
  • I could also pray to God to smite the Democrats, but He hasn’t been listening to me since I read that article on Buddhism. Hey, I was just curious, yo. And the guy with the fat belly makes me laugh.

Frank Answers: Insulting Rachel, French Soap, and White Glenn and His Monkey Affiliations

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What? Could it be? Yes it is! It’s Frank Answers™!
Jimbo who is hiding under a bed at an undisclosed location in California writes:
I accidentally slammed Rachel Lucas in the comment section of another blog. I recognized my mistake immediately (because I confused her with another female blogger with the same hair color). I immediately went back and corrected myself, but I am afraid that Rachel Lucas may have seen my original post but not read my later correction, and is now scouring Southern California with a large amount of firepower looking to end my life in a hideously gruesome manner. I think she would do it like the terminator in the first movie, when Arnold was killing everybody named Sarah Conner because he did not know who the “real one” was. As much as I would like to end the senseless slaughter of those sharing my name, I am really concerned about my own safety. Like the terminator was explained in the first movie: she cannot be bargained with, she can’t be dealt with, and will not stop until I am dead. That part bothers me a little, well, actually a lot. Is there anyway you can get word to her before she exterminates me and possibly my family in a ceaseless quest for blood? Tell her I will like buy a cup from her or something.
How do you accidentally slam Rachel Lucas? Were you drunk? That’s like accidentally teasing the angry rottweiler who roams free on the streets. I would e-mail her post haste, apologize profusely, and buy all of her mugs left in stock. We’re not talking about making fun of king dork White Glenn; Rachel will find you and she will hurt you. She get’s hate mail every so often, but never more than once from the same person, if you know what I mean.
Mackynzie from Birmingham, AL
Recently, a guest of mine gave me a box of French soaps as a “housewarming gift.” Obviously I was very disturbed by this. Everyone knows that the French, much like hippies, are deathly allergic to any type of cleansing product, and they may very well melt at the sight of soap. What is the explanation for the existence of such an oxymoronic product, and what are the proper means of disposing anything frog-affiliated?
French soap? Wow, that is a new one. Are you sure it’s not just cheese that looks like soap? Whatever it is, I would not touch it. It is obviously some trick, possibly that of a terrorist. Treat it like a hazardous substance; get yourself some thick rubber gloves to handle it and place it in a sealed container. Then drive to Massachusetts and dump it somewhere there.
Edmund Burke from Dublin, Ireland writes:
I posted on Samizdata the perfectly reasonable question, what does the white Glenn think about monkeys (of any colour, including their bums) however we still do not know. What do you think?
Heh heh, you put a ‘u’ in “color”; that’s cute. Anyhoo, most people would ask this question as whether White Glenn would associate with monkeys, but I ask it as whether monkeys would associate with him. As vile as most monkeys are, they still can’t stand to be around someone as puppy blending, Satan worshipping, and hobo-killer’n as the Enemy. Monkeys just want general havoc, while White Glenn wants more of a controlled evil. You’ll probably only see him with the vilest of monkeys with oddest colored bums, such as the baboons.

Please keep the questions coming, <a href=”mailto:THISISSPAMTHISISSPAMace you’re from, I’ll randomly select one.

In My World: The Rumsfeld Strangler vs. Cyber-Lenin Part II

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Part I
Cyber-Lenin’s hands pulsed with red Commie power, and Rumsfeld braced for the deathblow. Somehow he knew he always knew he would go out this way – killed by a cybernetic Communist.
Suddenly he heard a voice. “I got your Big Mac Rumsfeld,” Scott Mclellan called out, “So did you find Cyber-Lenin… oh, there he is.”
Cyber-Lenin turned to look at Scott. “Quick, do something, Tubby!” Rumsfeld yelled.
“Er… uh…,” Scott muttered as he looked at the McDonalds food in his hands. Finally, he threw a Coke at Cyber-Lenin.
“Arggh!” Cyber-Lenin screamed, “You’re capitalist confection burns like acid!”
“Quick, let’s get out of here!” Rumsfeld yelled as he ran over to pick up Chomps. Both he and Scott ran for the Buick as red beams of Pure Commie Evil flew at them. Rumsfeld put Chomps in the back of his Buick, and then quickly sped off as Scott jumped in.
“I think we lost him,” Scott said, “Boy, it sure was lucky I was there in time to… ergh… ack…”
“That was my Coke!” Rumsfeld yelled as he strangled Scott with one hand and steered with the other.
“Geez; sorry! You can have my Sprite!” Scott answered.
“Bah!” Rumsfeld exclaimed, “How is Chomps doing?”
Chomps barely moved and whimpered weakly. “He don’t look so well,” Scott answered.
“We’ll head to Condoleezza Rice’s secret lab and have him looked at,” Rumsfeld said, anger marking his face, “Then we’ll send that Cyber-Commie into the ashbin of history.”
“Yeah, we’ll learn him good,” Scott said, trying to sound tough, “So you still want your Big Mac?”

Bush stayed in his office practicing with a katana. “Do you think if I train really hard, I can be like you one day?” Bush asked Zatoichi.
“No, you’re an idiot,” Ichi answered, “but keep bothering me and I’ll gouge your eyes out.”
Distracted, Bush accidentally cut the wall. “Ah, not again.”
Laura Bush ran into the room. “George! Are you playing with your sword in the Oval office again?”
“No,” Bush answered, and then realized he was still holding a katana. “I took this from Zatoichi who being bad and swinging his sword around. You can never trust the Yakuza.”
“No katanas in the oval office,” Laura said, taking away his sword. She looked at the windows. “Are one of my drapes missing?”
Suddenly they could hear the sounds of motorcycles. Outside the office was a biker gang driving around the White House. “It’s the Hell’s Democrats!” Bush exclaimed, “There’s Big Fat Teddy K, the Dean, Dick the Knife, and By the Way I Served in Vietnam.”
Suddenly a pipe hit Bush and sent him rolling back into his office. “Don’t forget Tom Smashle!” Tom Daschle said, brandishing a pipe. Soon the rest of the Hell’s Democrats entered the Oval Office following Tom Daschle. Laura ran to Bush’s side and helped him up.
“You’re going to be in so much trouble for driving motorcycles in the White House,” Laura said sternly.
“Yeah!” Bush exclaimed, “Ichi, kill them all.”
Ichi laughed. “Kill who? I don’t see anyone.”
“Hey, I said I’d get you that 30 ryo,” Bush yelled at him.
“Know what, I think I’m going deaf, too,” Ichi responded.
“You limey bastard!” Bush yelled, “Fine, I’ll have to take care of this myself.” He looked to Laura. “Give me my whup’n hat.”
“Your cowboy hat is at the drycleaners since you spilled grape juice on it,” Laura informed him.
“Dag-nabbit, now I’m going to have to fight hatless!” Bush exclaimed. He approached Daschle with his dukes up, but Daschle grabbed Bush and tossed him across the room.
“Suddenly we Democrats feel so powerful!” Daschle exclaimed, laughing his weasel laugh, “And now we will take over the White House and do what you never did – find Saddam Hussein!”
“And then we’ll surrender to him!” Kerry added.
“And we’ll only do military action if the U.N. or French tell us too!” Dean laughed.
“But first we’ll crush you! Wha ha ha ha!” Big Fat Teddy K said.
“Help me, Laura; they’re going to hurt me!” Bush exclaimed.
Laura rolled her eyes. “I guess I have to do everything.” She sunk into a praying mantis fighting stance, and then sent Daschle flying out of the room with a series of kicks and punches.
“Kill the librarian!” Daschle yelled.
Kerry swung a chain at her, but she caught it and used the leverage to send him flying into Bush’s desk.
“Ah! That injured me!” Kerry yelled, “Just like I could have been injured while I served in Vietnam!”
Dean held up a bat. “I’m going to knock you out of power just like would left Saddam in!” He swung at Laura, but she ducked underneath and sweeped out Dean’s feet.
“Grerawerr!” Big Fat Teddy K growled as he charged Laura. She flipped out of the way, and Teddy K went head first into the wall.
“Time to die, ‘publican!” Dick the Knife screeched as he charged Laura from behind. With a flash of a sword, the knife was cut from Gephardt’s hand. “Ahh!” he screamed, clutching his wound, “That’s my hand for reaching into the pockets of taxpayers!”
“Hey, you helped her for free!” Bush yelled at Zatoichi.
Ichi laughed. “I didn’t see me do anything,” Ichi said, resheathing his sword. He then sniffed the air. “I smell patchouli oil. The hippies are flooding into the White House.”
“We need to get out of here,” Laura said, fixing her hair.
“To the helimocopter!” Bush yelled.

“Let’s see,” Buck said as he looked through his pack, “Got my knife for kill’n, got my rifle for kill’n, got my bullets for kill’n, got my grenades for kill’n, got my MRE’s so I can keep fed and kill, got my postcards to send home about my kill’n, and I got my ballpoint pen to use to write about kill’n, and, on the rare, occasion, for kill’n itself. I guess I’m ready to be deployed.”
He walked through the military base, but suddenly a glowing red figure appeared in the air, shooting down beams of red.
“I don’t what that is,” Buck said, “but it looks foreign to me!” Buck took out his M-16, chambered a round, and opened fire.
“Muh ha ha ha!” Cyber-Lenin laughed, “You’re pathetic weapons cannot harm me. Now face Pure Commie Evil!”
A red beam hit Buck’s M-16, turning it into a cheap imitation AK-47. “Dang it! This ain’t good for kill’n!” Buck yelled as he ran for cover from more shots of Cyber-Lenin’s Pure Commie Evil.
Soon, Cyber-Lenin had flown away, and all of the high-tech American equipment had been turned into cheap, Russian surplus. “Now us Marines will never get deployed!” Buck exclaimed, “And, without us kill’n for’ners, they’ll multiply like rabbits! God help us all.”

“Come on, Chomps, get angry at something,” Rumsfeld yelled.
Chomps just whimpered.
“I’m afraid the Pure Commie Evil has infected his body,” Condoleezza Rice informed him, “It’s made his white blood cells angry – very angry – and thus he has a high fever. I don’t think he’ll make it.”
“I’m sorry, Rumsfeld,” Scott said, “We can get you a new dog… and then psychologically scar him so he’ll be just like Chomps.”
“I don’t want a new dog!” Rumsfeld yelled, “I want Chomps back to his old angry self! What can we do to get the Pure Commie Evil out of him?”
“Any operation would only risk infecting ourselves,” Condi said, “but, if you destroy the carrier of this Pure Commie Evil, I think the infection will fade away.”
“So I need to kill Cyber-Lenin,” Rumsfeld stated, brimming with anger.
“Yeah, but he’s too powerful,” Scott said, “I just saw on the news he took out a military base. Why don’t we just hide down in this underground lab where it’s safe and we have cable and free sodas?”
“The sodas are not free!” Condi yelled, “There’s a cup right next to the fridge where you need to put fifty cents. It’s very clearly marked!”
Bush, Laura, and Zatoichi now walked into the lab. “The Democrats have the White House,” Bush said somberly.
“You little pansy!” Rumsfeld shouted, “How could you let the whiny little Donks take power.”
“Well, they we’re big and mean,” Bush answered defensively, “and they yelled at me… and I didn’t have my hat.”
“We need something with which to destroy Cyber-Lenin!” Rumsfeld demanded.
“I have something,” Condi said. A door on the wall opened up revealing a cybernetic suit. “It’s only a prototype. It was made by the lowest bidder, who then used the cheapest parts that would work to greatly increase their profit margin. When they prototype was finished, the corporation laid off hundreds of workers to raise their stock value. I.e., this suit is the product of pure capitalism.”
“So let’s have someone put it on and fight Cyber-Lenin,” Bush said.
Condi looked at him sternly. “We can’t just have anyone use it. For it to work properly, the user has to perfectly represent the chaotic rage that is capitalism. That’s why… Hey! Where’s the suit? And where is Rumsfeld?”
“I guess I better go with him,” Scott said with a look of resolve as he put back on his floral pattern cape and placed hit letter opener in his belt. He then ran out of the lab. “Super Scott away!”
Bush shook his head. “The new guy is such a dork.”
Laura just looked on in disbelief. “Tell me those were not my drapes.”

Can Uninhibited Capitalism defeat Pure Commie Evil? Can Bush get his White House back from the Hell’s Democrats? Will Buck ever get to kill more foreigners? Will Chomps survive the night? Will Scott defeat evil with his letter opener? And why is a librarian versed in multiple forms of martial arts?
Tune in Wednesday for these answers and less in the final installment, In My World: The Rumsfeld Strangler vs. Cyber Lenin Part III.