Health care?  Good.  “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pantsuits?”  Whatev.  The Harriet Tubman reference?  Fecking Brilliant.

Especially after this little number.  Jebus crow, why does the guy in the middle look so much like Cletus Spuckler?

Oh, and word to the wise?  When the Feds say that a plot on your life is “not a true threat” — despite it being made in the form of “racist rantings of a drug addict” — watch your back.

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The answer, in case you were wondering, is “yes.”

Hat tip to mein bruder, for pointing me to this if-not-eternal-then-certainly-timely question.

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What was up Thursday?  There were literally two people in the pool, of which I was one.

I understand that it’s supposed to be all about me and God and whatever, but seriously.  That pool is way too big for just two people.

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So our Obama lawn sign was stolen last night.  It had been up for…let’s see… maybe 12 hours?

I will, for the moment, put an optimistic spin on this and assume it was someone who didn’t know where to find a lawn sign of their own.  And that ours has now found a new home.

In other news, I see our boy has picked Biden.  That’s good.   On the bad side, I think this stoopid media game about “maybe I’ll tell you, and maybe I won’t” accomplished precisely nada — except wasting days that could have been spent point out how OLD McCain is, how he’s the THIRD INCARNATION OF BUSH, how if elected we’ll NEVER LEAVE Iraq, etc.

In the words of my former advisor, Obama needs to start kickin’ ass and takin’ names.  Or to put it more technically from the man who wrote the book on charisma: “if he wants to be a war lord, he must perform heroic deeds.”

UPDATE: I found the sign in the next-door neighbor’s garbage bin.  To be fair, the bin was on the street, so it really could have been anybody.  I then put it back in our lawn.  Where it last another 12 hours.  When I get another sign, I will attach a post-it note to the following effect: “Dear Mr./Ms. PigF*cker: Everytime you destroy my yard sign, I donate another $10 to the Obama campaign.  Congratulations on your self-defeating fascist stupidity.”

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Some Jasper goes and assassinates a Democratic Party activist. 

So, I’m sure the blathering hotheads who make it their business to make much of this sort of thing will make much of the fact that he worked at Wal-Mart.  Perhaps to make some kind of ur-BoBoesque nonsensical point about how “real American” individualists are disgusted at the panty-waisted Democratic collectivist “elites” who run this country*, and so choose (cry your crocodile tears now, Davy boy) unfortunate methods to take out their justified rage. 

Others, I’m sure — though I can’t find a pithy link at the moment — will try and spin some kind of neo-Marxist fantasia about a poor misguided son of the proletariat being led to murder his only chance at salvific rescue from the hands of his corporate overloads.  And, of course, miss entirely the point that their narrative is precisely the same as the BoBo’s, only with the figures of Christ (the gunman to Davy) and Satan (the Democrats) reversed.

And, betting dollars to donuts on this one, the Christabigots will make much of the fact that the gunman ran into a Baptist church and waved his gun around.  If they’re nice they’ll simply claim equal discrimination, as in “see, he threatened us too!”  If they’re nasty, they’ll claim that the saving power of prayer drove off the gunman just like the Garascene demoniac, and that if only the Democrats would confess Christ as their personal savior they too would be sheltered from God’s own divine retribution.

Me, I’m left speechless at the little nugget of info I read in one article: The chair of the Republican Party sent her workers home “out of an excess of caution.”  That’s right: A Democrat gets assassinated, and the Republicans get a holiday.

Meanwhile, I see that Mary Matalin, yes that Mary Matalin, f*ckbuddy to James “Gack, Jeez, who opened the Ark of the Covenant” Carville, is personally responsible for publishing racist hate speech.

It makes me want to cry it’s so ugly.  And it ain’t even Labor Day yet.  Yikes.

*I’m sorry, but who’s still reading — and taking seriously — Rand’s warmed over Romatic tripe?  Seriously, wtf? 

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I’ll see you at the debates, bitchez.

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