tea party

I Take My Burka in an Extra Large.

Do things seem weird?

A little, right?

They do. They do seem weird because they are. I started my Turd of the Week™ segment as a lark, not expecting that elected officials would get so weird about women. But weird about women they have become (almost as weird as the grammar in that sentence).

I am not a fan of either political party. Politicians make me itch like a scorching case of chlamydia. Thankfully I can get some antibiotics from my local Planned Parenthood…oh, that’s right, I can’t. It’s on fire.

See, I say I despise both parties (and I do, believe me), but the Republicans have really been extra Taliban these last few months so this post is mainly about them because frankly, they are awful. Almost as awful as an adult woman wanting to use birth control to avoid unwanted pregnancy. Those goddamn sluts.

I keep having to remind myself that it is 2012. It is, yes? The pill has been around for awhile. Right? It’s good to prevent unwanted pregnancy. (?) Is it? Yes. Yes? Help.

Then what’s with all these weird laws that are trying to be passed under the guise of “religious freedom?” From my limited understanding of our country, the founding fathers were like: “Dudes, religion fucks shit up so let’s make that shit separate from this other stuff, yo.” And John Hancock was like “I’m gonna sign my name all big and shit and people will be like, respeck.” And Alexander Hamilton was like “Whaa?? I can’t run for president? Boo. Oh great, I’ve just been mortally wounded in a duel. That sucks.” And Benjamin Franklin was like “I’m gonna have all kinds of sex, and fly a kite in a thunderstorm and that will be money…so money, I will appear on money.”

Fast-forward to now, and people are wearing tri-corner hats and holding misspelled signs demanding the government get rid of the few safeguards still in place, but also demanding the government take a weird interest in the sex life of women.

Proof:

My mom, who was told she could not become a doctor because of her ovaries (same reason her rightful spot of valedictorian was given to a dude), says it’s about time young women had a taste of the bullshit of the past.  I’m paraphrasing. But her point is that things were really dark for women and for awhile things were better, so much better that young women were like “I would never call myself a feminist because that means I have a mustache. And I don’t. I wax. I’m now going to take my top off for Girls Gone Wild because I can get a trucker hat.” But now things are dark again.

So dark that some elected dude in Wisconsin is like “bitch needs to stay married regardless.” According to this obvious Turd of the Week™ (another early winner, my heart can’t take much more of this), single parenthood–meaning the mommy type–is child abuse so even if your husband is beating you about the face with a bag of doorknobs, please try to “re-find those reasons and get back to why (you) got married in the first place.”

Right.

And the Senate Republicans are trying to block the expansion of the Violence Against Women Act because it would be expanded to include same sex couples and immigrants. Basically if you get the shit kicked out of you, it should be done on your home turf (okay, immigrants?) and by a dude (okay, lesbians?).

My question is this: Can we enact legislation to protect ourselves from these turds other people elected into office?

I don’t know.

But jiminy crickets, ladies, it’s time to set aside the trucker hats and at least not vote more of these loathsome turdpiles into office, right?

Or else the burka ain’t far behind.

History is for the Turds

Historians can be so mean, you guys. Like you’re doing your thing, you’re founding your country and setting up your laws to benefit people who look exactly like you, and then some dork loser historian keeps writing about how you owned like 300 or something slaves during that time period, and you’re like, “Hey, that’s mean!! Take that back.” And the dork loser historian is like “Make me, dick.” And you’re like “Well, I can’t jerk because I’m dead.” And the dork loser historian is like “You snooze you lose.” And you’re all like “What does that even mean!?! God, I HATE you!!” And then you cry into your pillow until your ivory teeth fall out and you eventually pass out.

I imagine that is what the ghost of George Washington does every day knowing that some dork loser historian wrote in some even dorkier, loser history book about his slave-owning ways.

Isn’t there something we can do to stop George Washington’s pain, you guys? I mean, it like sucks, right?

I know! Let’s, like, take all references to slaves and slavery out of the history books! Slavery was so blech, you guys. It’s like such a downer. Do you think anyone would even miss it? No way.

Oh wow! I wasn’t the first to broach this kickass idea. The Tennessee Tea Party presented a list of five legislative priorities to the state government, and one demands the removal of any reference to any slave-owning done by any Founding Father including Thomas Jefferson, who was a real founding father, if you know what I mean. You don’t? I mean this.

Tennessee Tea Party Leader Hal Rounds thinks any mention of this is “race-baiting.” Exposing the Founding Fathers’ love of owning people disparages them in ways that hurts their feelings, you guys, and it totally needs to stop.  As Hal says:

“(The kids) are being taught (the Founding Fathers) were hypocrites and slave owners and part of the teachings about slavery was that it was inherently cruel.”

I know, like, I’m sure there were times when slavery was inherently fun! Like, maybe one day the slaves were given some extra bread at dinner. I don’t think every day was filled with terror and degradation, right?  Why do we always focus on the negative? And by the way, “White people were whipped too,” Hal says.

Well said.

Or what I mean to say is, well turded, Hal. Your actions have earned you the coveted Turd of the Week™.

And nice shirt.

Ice Cream Cake for Everyone!

No, wait. . . I take that back. I really want the entire ice cream cake. It’s one of the few pleasures on my birthday. I know we live in Obama’s socialist America now, but I am the 99 percent when it comes to that cake and I will occupy it with my mouth. I will form the Cake Party if I have to, and rewrite history to fit with my worldview such as Nov. 15 being declared Speaker7 Ice Cream Cake Day by Thomas Jefferson in the Emancipation Magna Carta Independence Day SUV Sale of 1912. It’s in the Constitution. Look it up.

So no cake, okay? Seriously, how are you suppose to eat it? Do I smear some on my laptop screen and somehow through the miracle of Internet pipes and tubes, it will drip onto your computer screen like the hairy girl from The Ring?

Seven days....of delicious ice cream cake! Enjoy!

I know Cornell is working on some invention where you can print food by filling print cartridges with ketchup or something so it’s entirely possible in the future, I can send you a word document of my ice cream cake and you can print out a piece covered in ketchup (SCIENCE!!), but for now I’m just going to eat it. I’m going to scrape off the inedible blue plutonium-based frosting that tastes like you would think blue plutonium-based frosting would taste and shovel in cake until I experience an ice cream cake headache befitting of my years on this planet.

I am also getting my hair cut.

Try not to choke on your jealousy as you wish you could partake in my awesome birthday extravaganza. This one is up there with the one held at Roy Rogers restaurant (that was last year) and my 21st when I drank a mudslide at Applebee’s. I was my generation’s Snooki. 

I do have a few birthday wishes. I know they became meaningless if said out loud so if you are a read-aloud reader, read this next part in your head.

Here are my wishes for my 3?th birthday:

  • ice cream cake
  • a hairstyle that will require minimal to no work on my part to maintain
  • all my peeps on my blogroll (cuz that’s how I roll, yo) get recognition for being the truly talented writers they are…and compensated accordingly
  • peace on earth
  • the extinction of the Kim Kardashian 

May you all have a happy Speaker7 Ice Cream Cake Day!

I Hate Charlie Brady King

This post will be a little disappointing. Readers I know you tune into this blog (since it is a radio show) and expect to be blown away by scholarly insight like Dr. Phil is a turd and the decline of America began when someone asked “Where’s the beef?” and someone else answered “I don’t know”…but here’s the thing, some person with the face of an ass (aka assface) decided to jackhammer my street at 4:30 a.m.

This is not a pleasant sound to be gently lulled into a conscious state. It can lead to outbursts of “What the f—-!!” and the ripping aside of drapes in order to burn the offender alive with death laser beams shooting from the eyeballs. It can lead to this:

I am a morning person, but 4:30 is still the middle of the night. I occasionally pulled all-nighters in college or at middle school slumber parties to avoid having my hand placed in a warm cup of water (my college roommates were aholes). I found that around 4 a.m., reality became a little fuzzy, a little dreamlike and things that happened during that time could not be recalled. Of course, it’s possible I fell asleep, but my point is 4:30 is not a proper time for a jackoff jerkwad to jackhammer into asphalt.

So I’m not bringing my A game to this post. It’s more like my Q game. I feel like I’m a contestant on Top Chef: Just Desserts and I’ve been asked to make a dessert out of raviolis and bottle of Brass Monkey, which is what the contestants were just asked to do on the rerun I’m watching. See I can’t even come up with my own analogies. Oh, the humanity.

Sarah Palin is not running for president. I learned this from the TV. They showed footage of her speaking at a Tea Party rally. Someone held a sign that said “I Like the Smell of the Tea Party in the Morning.” I would like to put that on a T-shirt and then take that T-shirt and jakehammer it on top of a sewer line. And then I would make another T-shirt that says “I Like the Smell of a Sewage-Soaked Jackhammered T-Shirt Over the Smell of the Tea Party in the Morning.”

She is putting her family first and working to elect those who will stop the “fundamental transformation” of our nation. That “fundamental transformation” is in “quotes” because it is a “beautiful” turn-of-phrase uttered by Clown Baby…I mean, “Glenn Beck,” who is a giant baby with the comic timing of a tramp.

Palin’s statement continues, and it’s one of the few times I would gladly accept a jackhammer to the head over listening to any more, but the gist is she’s going to work to bring this country back, and I never know what this means. Back to what? The time of Jim Crow? The time when women pretty much had three career paths open to them: teacher, nurse, housewife? The time of child labor and poor houses? The time before Kim Kardashian’s Fairytale Wedding? The time before Charles Brady King invented the jackhammer?

…I think she may be onto something.

 

If at first you don’t secede, try, try again

Texas Gov. Rick Perry is known for saying controversial things like printing money is almost treasonous and the BP oil spill was an act of God. But he might be onto something with the whole Texas secession thing. At a tea party rally, Perry suggested that was a possibility because he was pandering to the crowd believed the federal government was out of control with something or other…I can only listen to politicians for so long, people. I’m not a super human. But I know a better reason:  Most Eligible: Dallas

This is a new “reality” show on Bravo. It “stars” “people” who all think they are Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City.  I watched episode 3 yesterday. I first consulted a dictionary to see if the definitions of “most” and “eligible” had changed. No, they still mean the same things…hmmm….confusing.

Shots of cityscape. A horse scratches its leg.

A horse scratches its leg

This is the most interesting moment in the show

Two people talk on the phone. We only get to see one of them. She is Carrie/Courtney and she is in bed and watches herself in the mirror while she talks to Neill. Her name is spelled out in giant letters above the mirror. This is more out of necessity then vanity when one considers the amount of alcohol she is shown consuming in an episode. Carrie/Courtney has called this summit because she slurred some things at Neill the previous evening. She hangs up the phone with a “And that’s how it’s done” and flings open her closet with an “It’s on bitches.” I’m glad she understands what’s going on.

I miss that horse.

Moving on to Matt. He is eating with an underling. Suddenly Holly shows up, conveniently wearing a wireless mic pack and all a pandemonium breaks loose. Here is their conversation:

“Long day,” Matt exhales

“How’s work?” Holly asks

“Lots of good things going on, but sometimes a bit overwhelming, you know. Don’t you feel like that? You’ve got a lot going on too,” Matt pries.

“I do except I’m going on vacation. I’ve so much to do,” Holly breathlessly confesses. A waiter sets down a parfait. “That looks good.”

“You’re going to love that,” Matt observes. “So you’ve been traveling for a little bit, but now you’re going to be here.”

“You’re always out of town,” Holly retorts.

“I know, I know, but that’s because I don’t have anything holding me down now,” Matt quips. “I’d like there to be more. What are you looking for? What’s on your agenda coming up?”

“I’m just taking it easy day by day,” Holly drones. “I’m not real thinking too much into the future right now.”

“That is so refreshing to hear that,” Matt platitudes. “I feel like I never hear that from anybody anymore.”

That is some good TV right there. I’m not sure, but I think I might have had a more compelling conversation with my 17-month-old son yesterday while watching traffic. You be the judge.

“Look, it’s a truck. Biggggggggg truck!”

“Uck!”

“Ooohhhh! Did you see that? That car had a doggie”

“Me-ow”

“No, doggie goes ‘ruff, ruff, ruff.'”

“Uck!”

“So what are you looking for, what’s on your agenda coming up?”

“Pffttttttt!”

Matt says he’s not ready for commitment. The human race says “thank you.”

Carrie/Courtney and Neill summit is on bitches! Neill has a child. They wear matching fedoras. Carrie/Courtney shows up wearing a giant red tablecloth. She needs herself some wine…as do I at this point. Where is that horse? I need me some horse.

Here is that horse from a different angle. Let’s look at the horse while Carrie/Courtney speaks. It’s so much better.

Horse scratches itself

Don't pay attention to the drunk tablecloth. Just look at me.

We move ahead to Carrie/Courtney, Matt and Glenn at brunch. Carrie/Courtney brings up some cancer charity event. Cancer patients say “That’s okay. We’re doing fine. We really don’t need any help…from you….ever.” C/C has signed up Matt and Glenn to be auctioned off. They will wear shirts that say “Ask me about my package” because it’s a date package. Those are some lucky women. Someone says “This is going to be interesting” and that someone is not me.

C/C is with a blow-up doll at a nail salon. Oh, the blow-up doll is a human named Tara. That’s a neat twist. Tara Doll is dating Jody who shows up for no discernible reason. Oh dear Christ, he has a white soul patch. I’m done…

Other things that happen….Glenn rips off his shirt at the date auction. Carrie/Courtney drinks. Tara Doll claims she’s picky and goes out on a date with a turd. Carrie/Courtney would love to be a mom(!?!). Matt goes on a date with MJ, calls the waiter “buddy” and asks for the restaurant’s most eligible drinks. The waiter sets down a glass filled with a hunk of pink insulation and pours Windex over it. Unfortunately they survive.

The horse is not shown again.