Recently, The One took a family (sort of) vacation on the Gulf Coast. Unbeknownst to him, Rahm “Mr. Charming” Emmanuel had arranged for The One to do a bit of fishing in the Gulf. PRS’s hi-tech microphones were there to catch the discussion.

The One: Fishing? Are you out of your goddamned mind? You know I hate this shit.

Rahm: Look. Your numbers are in the toilet, and, frankly, every time you open your mouth lately, the numbers get worse. This is an important photo-op.

The One: I hate the smell of these f**king boats.

Rahm: Jesus, I had the captain dump all the bait and spray the boat with Lysol. Work with me here.

The One: Are those cretins over there on the boat real fishermen? I don’t want them near me. They’re goobers and they smell bad.

Rahm: Not to worry; they’re actors. We got ‘em from the union.

The One: OK, so what the f**k am I supposed to be doing? Just sitting here with my line hanging in the water?

Rahm: Well, yeah, but looking interested in what you’re doing would help. It’s important for the photographers. Oh, now it’s time that you have lunch.

The One: Lunch? Great! I would like an arugula salad, sprinkled with a bit of feta cheese, with caraway seed dressing on the side. Oh, and a Fiuggi sparkling water, with a twist of lemon.

Rahm: Sorry. Lunch is a bologna sandwich on Wonder Bread.

The One: You must be insane. I don’t eat that shit.

Rahm: Dammit, don’t argue with me. The photographers are waiting to snap the photos and file them for tonight’s broadcasts.

The One: OK, bring me the sparkling water now; I’m thirsty.

Rahm: Sorry, Barack. It’s gotta be beer.

The One: Oh, the f**king optics again. I get it. I’ll have a glass of Pauwel Kwak Belgian Amber Ale, but the glass must be properly chilled.

Rahm: Sorry, but today, it’s Budweiser in a can.

The One: F**king optics?

Rahm: Yep.

The One: Holy shit! I think I’ve caught a fish! You didn’t tell me I was going to catch a fish!

Rahm: Well, not actually. We’ve had Simmons from your detail hanging under the boat in scuba gear for the entire trip out here so he could place a fish on your line.

The One: More optics?

Rahm: Damned straight.

The One: How soon will this shit be over?

Rahm: Just as soon as the photographers snap your picture eating lunch with the regular folks and then pulling your fish out of the water.

The One: OK then, get this shitshow moving. I trust that this is it for these bullshit photo-ops.

Rahm: Sorry. Next week you will be attending a NASCAR event.

The One: NASCAR? Have you lost your f**king mind?

Rahm: Again, it’s the optics. You have to be seen looking like a regular guy. Believe me; it’s important.

The One: Optics, my wrinkled nuts! How about next week you spend some time making sure your f**king resume is up to date.

Rahm: The sandwiches are here. Smile!

Watch this, and think about it. The country is in deep trouble.

I sure as hell have.

“The contempt for ordinary Americans displayed by the ruling class is reaching critical mass. There may never have been a time in American history when the governing, academic, cultural, and media elites have been more manifestly disdainful of the country’s values, traditions, principles, and people.

Individuals who express sincere concerns that the polices and practices of the elites are imperiling the nation’s economy and security are branded as racists and xenophobes by the anointed: A diminutive mayor who appears to conflate a talent for acquiring wealth with omniscience lectures that anyone who opposes the erection of a mosque on the site where 2,700 Americans were slaughtered by radical-Islamic terrorists must be motivated by religious intolerance; tea-party activists who protest the federal government’s insane spending spree are motivated not by horror at a $13,300,000,000,000 debt but by racial animus toward the chief fiscal incontinent residing in the White House; those who voted to maintain the central institution of civilization were actually voting for bigotry and oppression.”

If you don’t read anything else today, read the rest.

Via Doug Ross

1. It pisses me off that there are so many French words in American crossword puzzles. No, I don’t speak French, nor do I care to. Some think spoken French sounds beautiful. I think it sounds like someone vomiting. I also don’t appreciate it that every damned crossword puzzle contains a “River in Africa” clue. I don’t know any goddamned African rivers. Farookin’ things are probably loaded with alligators anyway.

2. Tonight I went to a local restaurant and had one of the “Chef’s Specials.” It was a hubcap-sized plate full of meatballs, sausages, peppers and onions all covered with lashings of Italian tomato sauce (a/k/a “red gravy” — sauce made with meat). It came with a side order of capellini covered with marinara sauce. I’ve never been to North Dakota, but I have a feeling I wouldn’t be able to get that meal there.

3. Seeing as how New Jersey produces lots of cranberries, and seeing as how I’m a lifelong Garden Stater, I thought it only fitting that I buy a bottle of cranberry wine, so I did. I haven’t worked up the nerve to try it yet (sounds like something to which one should add vodka), but when I do, I’ll let you know how it worked out.

4. I see that Rosie O’Donnell will be returning to television. Yet further proof that this country is in the shitter.

5. I really need a new mouse pad, but it turns out that needing a new mouse pad is akin to needing new shoe laces: the only time you remember that you need new shoe laces is when you tie your shoes.

I recall watching the old Mission Impossible TV show, and laughing to myself at the many episodes in which one of the Mission Impossible team would wear a mask that was realistic enough to actually fool the bad guys. I must say: the masks here may come close to being able to do just that. Go to the this page and click on the “Handsome Guy” for openers. Then, click away.

Yeef!

This post will not self-destruct in five seconds.

via David Thompson

I just finished reading Pirate Latitudes, by the late Michael Crichton. When I saw the book on the hardcover discount table, I hesitated, having never before read a book about pirates. I took the $2.00 (that was the price!) plunge, because Michael Crichton may well be my favorite author. I believe I have read everything (or almost everything) he had ever written. Hell, I would happily read a shopping list if Michael Crichton wrote it.

I was quite taken by the story, which was set in 1665 and dealt with the adventures of Charles Hunter, the Harvard-educated Englishman pirate privateer, who assembles a crew of ill-mannered, cutthroats and rogues in order to attack a seemingly impregnable Spanish Fortress under the command of a Spanish villain named Cazalla, (who is a supremely rotten, sadistic, loathsome, ruthless turd). The ultimate goal of Hunter’s cunning plan is the seizure of a treasure-laden Spanish galleon moored near the fortress. When Hunter is not relieving women of their knickers, he is shooting people in the face with his flintlock pistol (including a disobedient crew member), and he’s the good guy.

It is a great adventure story, but as one would expect from Michael Crichton, it is chock full of interesting historical tidbits and a good deal of information concerning the amazing navigation and sailing skills of pirates privateers in the seventeenth century. It has sparked my interest in the subject, and I shall delve into Joan’s archives for additional reading material, for she is way ahead of most folks in the Pirate Department.

Reportedly the book was discovered as a “final” manuscript on Michael Crichton’s computer after his death in 2008. I have a feeling that, had he not died, he would have tweaked the book a bit to add a bit more meat so some elements of the story that seemed to pop up and quickly disappear, without additional development.

It’s a fun read, and it served to remind me that Michael Crichton died way too young.

Via C&S

Last night I caught a local PBS station fundraiser featuring bits from Second City Television (SCTV), “High Q” being just one of them. That was some really funny stuff, performed by an excellent cast of performers. I really did laugh out loud.

It seems to me that PBS always broadcasts the really good stuff during a fund raising week. Once that week is over, the stations resume their lineup of liberal bullshit.

Big Dick posted this in a comment to the previous post. I figured you all should see it. I know that I harbor a special fear of these prehistoric beasts, but I believe that anyone in his or her right mind has to be shit scared of a crocodile that is more than 21 feet long.

The locals in a northern region of Australia had to kill this beast because it was dining on their cattle. Apparently there is another one just about this big lurking around in the same place. If that isn’t horrifying enough, one commenter to the accompanying story, states that he has seen even bigger crocs.

Good grief.

I remain curious with respect to how it ended. Watch the video, and you’ll know what I mean.

via iOwnTheWorld.com