And a grandstanding, cowardly mutt at that.

When I heard that Andrew Cuomo (Yes, Mario’s boy), the Attorney General of New York, was “taking legal action” against the recipients of the AIG bonuses, I wondered about the legal theory he was relying on to recoup those moneys. Certainly he could not commence a criminal proceeding against these people, for they have committed no crime. None. None at all. To the contrary, they held valid contracts, the payment of which was specifically authorized by the bill passed by both houses of Congress and signed by the President.

So, if they committed no crime, Cuomo would have to proceed against them in a civil action to recoup the money. But, what on what legal theory would he base his case? I suppose he could challenge the validity of the contracts themselves, but no one, thus far, has questioned their validity.

If any lawyers (or non-lawyers) out there would care to suggest why any civil action Cuomo might have brought would not be dismissed for failure to state a claim on which relief could be granted, I’d love to hear it.

I’d also like to know why his suit would not be dismissed for lack of standing.

The truth is that all Cuomo had going for him had nothing to do with the law, but rather was all about instilling fear of exposure and resultant physical harm to these people and their families and instilling the fear of being crushed by naked government power. This is made abundantly clear by the letter of resignation written by an AIG employee who agreed to work for a dollar per year in anticipation of receiving payment of the “bonus.”

Cuomo should be relegated to litigating rear-end hits.

I had intended to write something after watching The One’s press conference. I made it through the press conference but then promptly fell asleep in Mr. Recliner. I dreamed about the bushel of money that will surely be coming my way in the next Stimulus Package. Or a pony. Or something.

A few days ago, I posted links to the record we made in 1966. Today, I received an email from my pal Jerry from Indiana, who found this on e-bay. Yep, someone is selling one of the 45’s. The seller, so far, has gotten a bid of fifty bucks for the thing (check the link before it disappears). Go figure.

I remember, back when I posted this, someone was asking $200.00 for one of the records. I wonder if it’s the same person.

No, I am not the seller, nor am I the bidder. Hell, if I rummaged around a bit in my basement, I probably could put my hands on a half dozen of these babies in never-played condition. I figure I’ll wait until the price soars into the thousands, then I’ll go for the big score.

In the meantime, I’ll happily sing you the shit live for a bottle of decent bourbon.

From my buddy, Brian, the Air Force Vet.

The Congressional Budget Office has concluded that the spending proposed by The One will create a debt that is “unsustainable.” Doug Ross points out that the true national debt (including Social Security and Medicare) translates to $483,000 per household! He draws a conclusion about The One, which, with each passing day, is approaching inescapable.

Go read.

Silly rabbit, you thought that all our congresspeeps do is hysterically blame everyone but themselves for the current mess we’re in and use the tax code to punish people who signed contracts they don’t like.

You’re just too cynical.

There remains plenty of time in the House of Representatives for some soaring oratory.

This is truly inspiring. Behold!

via Moonbattery

So, lemme get this straight.

If a bunch of politicians (including some fake republicans) decide they don’t “like” a valid contract executed between private citizens, but there are no contractual principles that would permit them to render the contract unenforceable, they can SEIZE the proceeds of the contract by using the Tax Code against those individuals as a punitive measure?

Be afraid. Be very, very afraid.

So, there I was sitting in front of the computer a little after eight o’clock, minding my own business and thinking about what to write, when I got a phone call from Eric.

”Hey Jimbo, just wanted to tell you to go turn on the History Channel.”

Knowing Eric to be a person who is interested in history, I asked what the show was about. With Eric, it could be anything from the history of the Marine Corps to something about ancient Greece.

”It’s all about whether alligators could live in the sewers of New York City.”

Just farookin’ swell.

After a few minutes of catch-up bullshitting, we signed off and I decided to walk away from the computer to see whether alligators could live in the New York City sewers. I was silently concerned that, if the rotten beasts could survive New York City ca ca, they could probably make a summertime trip across the Hudson and find their way into the fetid swamp of toxic soup between New York and New Jersey known affectionately (albeit disingenuously) as the “Meadowlands” to the New Jersey sewers. Or, whether the whole thing is just an Urban Legend.

I tuned into the portion of the show that focused on two brave guys lunatics who capture five-hundred alligators per year in West Palm Beach. They were dragging a ten-foot, sorely pissed off alligator from a pond right behind a goddamned supermarket. Right behind a supermarket! Where people go to buy their goddamned groceries!

The scene then changed to video of the inside of the New York City sewers to show the wonderful things that live there and could serve as a “food source” for alligators, such as, oh, about a gazillion roaches, slugs, worms and roughly ten million rats. Good grief!

Anyway, one of the three experts (a Florida guy who squatted in front of a pond facing the camera and talked while a gator the size of a Cadillac was chilling in the pond about four feet from his turned back), thought alligators could not live in New York City sewers. Whew!

Unfortunately, the other two experts thought alligators could survive and even find enough nesting material in the sewers to reproduce. Moreover, one of these guys figured that and that it is conceivable that one lucky gator couple could result in as many as 4,000 gators in three years swimming happily in the sewers, until they tired of munching on rats and decided to emerge from their underground digs to dine on dogs and a few homeless peeps.

If there was any good news, it was that even after setting up a widget that emits what amounts to a love call to gators and would automatically photograph an approaching gator, they saw none. They even traipsed around in the sewers and saw no evidence of the pre-historic beasts. The best they could come up with was a photo of a salamander.

After the show, I began to watch the quest to find an industrial-sized black shark reported to eat sea lions whole in the Sea of Cortez (nowhere near Jersey) until I fell asleep in Mr. Recliner, only to dream of – guess what.

That’s my pal, Eric. He’s always lookin’ out for me.

May your beer remain cool

and your coffee stay hot.

May the green in your nose

remain only snot.

Poetry by Seamus O’Parkway — also available for whiskey, songs and blarney.

I see where The One has decided that people captured on the battlefield trying to kill Americans should no longer be referred to as “enemy combatants.” I had thought about writing suggestions for other names we might give such persons (e.g. “people in need of an anger management program”), but many others have already covered this ground.

Instead, I thought about what other peeps might need to be renamed, given that names obviously matter. I could not help but focus on the democrat Congressmen and women and democrat Senators and the so-called republicans who were responsible for forty percent of the 9,000 pork-barrel earmarks in the most recent spending bill. For sure, they are all badly in need of renaming.

Right off the top of my cruller, here are a few suggestions:

1. Pus-filled ingrown asshole follicles.

2. Barnyard excrement.

3. Smegma, pure and simple.

4. Rat bastard Marxists.

5. Common criminals.

6. Washington dung.

7. Douchebag modickers.

8. Highly paid looters.

9. Blood-sucking pieces of shit.

10. Maggots.

11. Whale shit.

12. Gallows-worthy rats.

13. Komodo dragon puke.

14. Weeping carbuncles.

15. Shit stains.

16. Viscous turds.

17. Septic soup of the most brown.

18. Putrid bowel windage.

19. Crotch pheasants.

20. Armpit cheese.

I’m sure with a few more minutes I could think of a dozen more.