Mitt Romney Flip-Flops, Talk Radio Flips Out
"Unless America changes course, we could become the France of the 21st century," Mitt Romney told supporters last Thursday.
<!--more-->The Republican presidential candidate with decent CEO grooming and great personal grooming uttered those words with baguette crumbs flying as he suspended his campaign. He had appeared in front of supporters the prior Tuesday wearing a red beret and a mustache and declared that "we" were going to win. John McCain had earned 714 delegate votes once the results had been tallied, while Romney had earned only 288. Three of the states that he had won, Utah, Michigan and Massachusetts, were states he had lived in. Romney vowed next time to buy homes in California, Florida and New York.
He claimed to be withdrawing for the good of the country, neglecting to mention that he'd been given a McCaining. America should stick to its values, he said, including reducing government spending and fighting in Iraq. He did not notice the contradiction. As he spoke of banning gay marriage and building incense-scented shrines to Reagan, the crowd chanted, "Mitt! Mitt! Mitt!" As always, Romney proved himself a master with audiences.
Conservative talk radio host Laura Ingraham, who introduced Romney, was in the audience; at one point Romney thanked her and "all the talk radio" for keeping conservatism alive. After the speech ended, Ingraham and fellow conservative radio and TV personalities Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter, all anti-McCainaanites, met up to commiserate. They played canasta, drank beer and discussed immigration. "We need to line 'em up against the wall and shoot 'em," Coulter suggested, to which Ingraham said that derisive cackling would suffice. As the night turned to morning, Limbaugh brainstormed ways to turn his dittoheads into Clinton supporters. Ingraham said that Clinton might not win the Democratic nomination. Coulter called her a faggot. They all had a good laugh. At any rate, Ingraham continued, a McCain-Obama contest might make the Earth collapse from the weight of people crossing over. Limbaugh nodded sagely, then drunk-dialed Michael J. Fox. —AC
I love Hillary Clinton. I like freaking love her. She is so hot. But not, like, in a sexual way, because that would be demeaning to her strength as a woman. She isn't sexual at all. Well, no, I mean, not like she's an asexual robot or anything. If anything, she's like a hot robot, like that girl on Small Wonder. And while a lot of people have been saying that young people don't like her because she only got like 11 percent of the youth vote in Iowa or whatever, I still love her, every inch of her, from the top of her valiant head down to the bottoms of her powerful ankles, and I think that's proof enough that young people will come out and vote for her come whatever that day is.
To prove she cares about young voters, Hillary's done a ton of stuff. For instance, she wants to put all congressional hearings on a blog so young people who don't have access to C-Span or cspan.com but still totally care about congressional hearings can get access to them. And she started a group of young supporters called the HillBlazers. I mean, she's basically a rapper with the way she matches stuff with Hill (the Hillocopter, the HillStars, the HillRaisers), which is probably why 50 endorsed her.
Oh, and she released a new ad this week that targets the youth market. It features a bunch of really good looking young people, like 18-25 years old, I'd say, and they're all talking to the camera about how, one time, Hillary got up on stage at a concert and rocked out with their band, and how she totally "shredded," and how "it was all over the blogs." They use that last word a bunch for some reason. Unlike other stupid online videos that are user-generated and look like crap, this one looks really good because it was put together by professional media consultants and it stars really hot actors in really hot hoodies. What I particularly appreciated were the wacky camera angles and fast zoom-in-and-outs, which totally reminded me of when Bill Bellamy hosted MTV Spring Break. The format was a total spoof on VH1's Behind The Music, which I also love watching (on VHS). And then for the kicker at the end, these really fresh white letters on a bright blue background say, "Okay. Maybe Hillary doesn't shred. But she will: Make College Affordable. Fight Global Warming. End the War."
And that totally hit home because, like, those are literally the only issues that I as a young person care about. —RAM
A Tampa dog named Jet is only just now recovering from what is being called "the miracle landing" by local veterinarians, an incident with purportedly no evil intentions behind it whatsoever. According to his owners, Jet 'somehow' found 'some' kind of 'way' to 'get' himself a running start off of a multi-level 'parking' garage at the Tampa airport this past New Year's eve. After a free fall--now seen as harrowing and anecdotal--from six f[uck]ing stories up, Jet got up and walked away. Poor magnificent bastard.
Jet, the two-year-old, 65-pound black Labrador retriever, allegedly escaped from his owners' truck parked on the ninth floor, ran to his owner and was going too fast to keep from slamming into the four-foot retaining wall. So he leapt. Leapt like a circus clown into a big, fat, delicious, elephant-soiled vanilla pie. But there was no pie. Nope, just a third-floor roof made of concrete. After a thud and a whimper, a witness--who nearly became the heroic man who broke a dog's six-story fall—claimed that Jet got up and walked until his master told him to "stay," after which he waited for his owners to come down and drive him to the vet. Sounds like Jet's a well-trained dog. A little too well-trained.
Certainly something is amiss here. We're supposed to believe the couple named their dog Jet because of his shiny black fur? That the setting was coincidentally at the airport? That the 'witness' (or spectator?) was just on time to see the event happen? And that this incident just so happened to take place on the drunkest of all eves, New Year's? The convergences abound, overwhelming all reason. It sounds to me like these sickos had been training Jet to be a martyr for nomenclature. (One can only imagine the kind of perverted things they do to their friend "Pat." Lest we mention "Sadaam.") "Hey, dudes. Jet's got this sweet trick you have to... wait, honey, it's 11:59? Shoot, alright: five, four, three..." Some real Dick Clark, Times Square shit—you get the point.
Now that the big Jet trick's done, what's next for this humane society-abominating couple that treats its pets like so many looney tunes? Oh, oh, I got a great idea. How about they get some kind of desert-dwelling bird, restrict its ability for flight and call it "Roadrunner"—sure, that'd be a sweet bird—make him enemies with a coyote, "Wiley," strapped to a rocket for a Fourth of July spectacular. Then they and the press can laugh all the way to the bank. Jerks. —LDP
Head in a box
Persons of the dialogue:
SOCRATES, a corrupter of the youth
JASON MICHAEL FIFE, 34, of Lower Pottsgrove, Pennsylvania
Socrates: So, Jason, you mailed a cow's head to your wife's lover.
Jason: Indeed, Socrates.
Socrates: That's a pretty silly thing to do.
Jason: Quite so, Socrates.
Socrates: Looks like someone was overcome with senseless passion, am I right? You can't let yourself be consumed with emotion like that.
Jason: Yes. I am ashamed.
Socrates: I bet you got the idea from The Godfather. You know, that scene with the horse's head. Did you ever see those horse-head pillows? Those were sweet.
Jason: I agree.
Socrates: They were soft and fuzzy, but in the shape of a horse's head. Just the head. So when you put one on your bed it kind of looked like that scene in The Godfather where the guy wakes up in bed with a horse's head.
Jason: Jack Woltz was, I believe, the name of the character.
Socrates: Yeah. So this is exactly what I'm talking about with people getting silly ideas from movies.
Jason: I see that clearly now.
Socrates: Except you didn't even use a horse's head. What, you can get a cow's head but not a horse's? And what was the point, anyway? It's not as if this guy was really fond of this cow or anything. It's just sort of a mediocre version of something that's been done before.
Jason: Of course you are correct, Socrates. My foolish act was one four times removed from the real. A mere imitation of a scene from a film adapted from a novel inspired by real life, which, as we know, is itself a step down from the realm of ideas.
Socrates: I guess. That sounds more like Multiplicity--definitely Michael Keaton's best role ever, by the way. But it's mostly just weird. How did you even get the head?
Jason: I told a butcher that I desired the skull for decoration.
Socrates: Really? That's practically as weird as telling him you were going to put it in the mail. Frankly, I'm surprised it was that easy. But it sounds like you put a lot of thought into this.
Jason: I did, Socrates. I even froze it before posting it in order that blood might not seep through the box, alerting the authorities of its contents.
Socrates: That's pretty clever, though it probably would have been cleverer not to send it at all.
Jason: I know.
Socrates: What's also weird is that the guy you sent it to opened the box at all. I mean, it was just dripping blood all over his doorstep, right?. Also weird: the fact that this move convinced your wife to take you back.
Jason: Certainly. Quite right. Your wisdom astounds me, Socrates.
Socrates: Don't get smart with me. —SME