Cousin Jack is on a roll.

Check out. “Sing Along with Johnny” and “Sing Along with Howie,” both with appropriate apologies. This is funny stuff.

He could sell these to SNL.

Check out this one.

Cousin Jack posts a great “letter” from President Bush to Dr. Howie expressing condolences on the occasion of Howie’s loss in New Hampshire.

Put your party preferences aside and enjoy the laugh.

Unfunny, Mean Spirited, Obnoxious Punk
This Clinton defender’s hatred of the President is malignant. I did, however, find his thoughts on president hating to be quite revealing. The following exchange took place during the course of a “hard hitting” interview of Mr. Begala by Buzzflash:

Buzzflash: How can you explain the virulent hate that so many people in the right wing have for Clinton? It just seems inexplicable. I mean, it is so bilious. And you think of people like Judge Bork who, at one conservative meeting said, he could have hung Clinton.

Paul Begala: You know what I’m thinking it is? I’ve thought about this a lot. My latest pet theory is projection — the psychological theory that says you take things you hate most about yourself, project them onto somebody else and attack them for that. So in other words, I think this is self-hatred projected on an innocent man. That’s what I believe.

Ergo, hate thyself, you piece of shit. He then applied this mindless psychobabble to Mr. Clinton:

I believe these people hate themselves. I believe they hate our country. I believe they hate our culture. And they can’t deal with that. They can’t accept the level of self-loathing that they have, and so they project it onto someone else. I mean, for all of his faults and the troubles in his marriage, Bill Clinton is still married to a girl he met in the library 25 years ago at school. Can we say that about many of our other leaders today in America, including on the right wing? I don’t think so. For all of his many faults, he is a man who, until he became the President of the United States of America, never earned more than $35,000 a year because he put service first. He is a man who, despite all of his many flaws and sins, has raised a good kid in as difficult a circumstance as you can possibly imagine. I mean, by any standard of measure, he is a good man. He is a decent man. He is a successful man. And yet they heap this hatred on him. I believe it is because they hate themselves. And for that, I’ll continue to pray for them.

Keep your prayers to yourself, punk.

It looks like that’s what I have to do.

create your own visited states map
or write about it on the open travel guide

via Unbillable Hours

Sgt. Hook, who will soon be deployed with his unit to “the Stan,” writes about the “thrill” of pre-deployment immunizations. It brought to mind my getting immunizations at Fort Holabird a zillion years ago along with the other guys who were to be stationed overseas at the conclusion of our training.

Typical of the Army, we stood in a long line in a large room as the medics stood to our left and right, each administering a different shot. We had been instructed in a “command voice, ” which is a very loud, curious, syncopated monotone heard, to my knowledge, only in the military, “Gentlemen, you will remove your shirts. You will tie them around your waist. You will roll up both sleeves on your undershirts, and you will remain that way until instructed otherwise. Step lively. Tighten up those ranks. Tighter! Make your buddy smile!”

So, we shuffled through the line, shirts tied around our waists, until we came to the hypodermic gauntlet where medics, some on the left and some on the right, gave the injections in the arm closest to them. However, one of the “injectors” near the end of the line was a woman, who understood that, by the time we reached her station, our arms had been turned into pin cushions. She was kind enough to ask each GI as she brandished her needle, “which arm would you like this in?”

The guy behind me, a fellow from upstate New York who was a buddy of mine, answered by pointing at me and saying, “I’d like mine in his arm, please.”

I wonder if Jim Greer from Oswego, New York (who was sent to Korea and whom I haven’t seen since) has any idea that his smartass remark, made so many years ago, still makes me smile.

Jack Paar, the Late Night Talk Show Pioneer, died today at age 85. He took over the “Tonight Show” from Steve Allen in the mid fifties and his wit, sentimentality and easy style captivated the country. He attracted a wide variety of guests, from Judy Garland to the “Charley Weaver” character created by Cliff Arquette.

I remember being in my early teens when Jack Paar walked off the show in protest of the network’s decision not to air a joke about a “water closet” (i.e. a bathroom). I recall that the dispute so caught the country’s attention that the principal of my junior high school, at an assembly, lectured us that there were far more important things to think about other than some “rich, television personality walking off his show.” I suppose there were more important things, but I don’t remember them today. I do, however, remember Mr. Paar’s dramatic exit from the program.

I got it then, and I get it now.

May he rest in peace.

Stop by and say hello to Dale of “mostly cajun, all american and opinionated,” who is new to the blogosphere. I see that Dale spent a couple years as a drill sergeant, and, as some of you know, drill sergeants are special people to me.

Besides, anyone who compares Rosie O’Donnell to an “albino water buffalo” definitely has his shit together.

On the way home from work, I heard a radio clip of Wesley Clark saying that, unlike some of his competitors, he “grew up poor,” and that his family could not afford to send him to Yale. “Instead,” he continued, “I went to West Point.”

He then said, “I paid my way through college.”

Paid his own way through West Point???

You can’t make this shit up.

As I mentioned before, the move from BlogSpot (courtesy of Craig at mtpolitics), left some of the titles looking a bit goofy, in that they sometimes picked up a few words of text from the BlogSpot post itself. In addition, because Blogger did not have a title field, the original title appears in the text of the Movable Type Post. Are you still awake? I know this is captivating stuff here.

Anyway, I’ve spent a bit of time cleaning up the old posts, but it is a one-at-a-time thing, so I figure I’ll get them all done by Christmas.

Now, I’m headed off to the Legion Post for a couple belts with the Usual Suspects. I’m sure we will all show the signs of having Cabin Fever. I, for one, am having Key West fantasies.