Yesterday at 5:35 p.m., while I was in the process of digesting a most excellent Easter dinner at the house of daughter TJ and son-in-law (Mr. Surly), the ol’ SiteMeter clocked the 500,000th visit to this site.

The 500,000th visitor came via Atlantic Broadband from Centreville, Maryland, using Windows XP and a Firefox Browser. He/she was referred here by our buddy Mostly Cajun, and I thank him for that.

To all who have come here on purpose to read my silly scribblings, thank you. I also thank those who may have stumbled on the place by accident and decided to return. In addition, a big thank you to the bloggers who have linked to stuff I’ve written and/or placed PRS on their blogrolls.

A very special thanks to the Nicest Guy in the Blogosphere who keeps the place up and running and to my friend Mike, the Computer Mavin, who is responsible for plugging in all those wires behind my desk into the things on my desk that make all this cyber nonsense possible.

Bill Richardson, former presidential candidate and Bill Clinton’s former energy secretary and ambassador to the United Nations, called Hillary just before publicly endorsing Barack Obama for the presidency. According to Mr. Richardson, the conversation “got a little heated.” James Carville, a longtime Clinton attack dog, wasted no time in making a not-so-thinly-veiled comparison between Richardson and Judas Iscariot.

Of course, PRS Operatives managed to obtain a transcript of the call, which is as follows:

RINNNNNNNG

Richardson: Hello, Hillary?

Hillary: Speaking. Who is this? Bill? Bill Richardson? Long time no hear.

Richardson: Yeah, Bill Richardson here. I wanted to talk with you …

Hillary: How are you Bill? We’ve been calling for days now, and we didn’t hear from you. Is everything OK with you?

Richardson: Yeah, Hillary. I’m fine. I’m calling, because I need to tell ….

Hillary: Everything OK with the family?

Richardson: Yes. Everything is fine. Please, I have to discuss something with you.

Hillary: Hey, what are friends for? Go ahead.

Richardson: Well, the thing is – I will be endorsing Barack.

Hillary:

Richardson: Hello? Are your there?

Hillary: Goddamned Sp*c!

Richardson: What did you say?

Hillary: You heard me, you miserable turncoat prick! This after all my husband did for your sorry ass? Hell, he even spent Super Bowl Sunday watching the game with you, eating a shitload of nachos and chicken wings and listening to your bullshit!

Richardson: I’m sorry, but I wasn’t comfortable with the tone of the campaign lately.

Hillary: Bullshit! You kissed my ass big time for the Vice President spot, and now I guess you figure you have a shot at it with the black guy. You’re an asshole. You’re going under the same bus his grandma did! Piece of shit!

Richardson: I thought you said we were friends.

Hillary: Friends? Don’t make me laugh, you wetback turd.

Richardson: I’m sorry you feel that way, Hillary.

Hillary: “Hillary?” It’s Senator Clinton to you, asshole. And, when I become President Clinton, the only goddamned job you’ll get in this country is picking lettuce!

Richardson: Well, I guess that’s that. Good bye and have a happy Easter, Senator.

Hillary: Eat shit and die.

click

It has been quite some time since Jimbo’s Deli updated its menu of specialty, celebrity-named sandwiches. We offer here an alternate version of the Ted Kennedy and six brand new entries. Without further ado, they are as follows:

The Ted Kennedy 2
A whopping pound of pan-seared sperm whale blubber served with an entire loaf of spongy white bread.

The Spitzer
Five-Diamond, well seasoned young tuna on sourdough bread. (Full payment in advance required)

The McGreevey
Two hot dogs in one soft taco. (Served with special TGIF relish)

The Sharpton
Hog jowls (greasy, like you like ‘em) topped with baloney and served on stale bread.

The McCain
Nothing but a heaping portion of freshly picked lettuce served on thick crusted white bread.

The Jeremiah Wright
Piles of turkey (no Goddamned white meat!) served on cornbread.

The Obama
One slice of black bread and one slice of white bread with nothing inside.

Yes, the Wiseass Jooette has struck again.

I give her credit for being be foolhardy enough having the Moxie to show up in Princeton on April 5th to explain to peeps from Jersey why living in Brooklyn is such hot shit.

I learned of this from Elisson.

Damned shame that Zonker has called it quits, but I’m really not all that surprised, because it appears that Life 101 has significantly cut into his blogging time. It could also be that blogging didn’t seem to be enough fun to be worth the time. In either case, despite my sadness at seeing Thunder and Roses close down, I completely understand.

Typically, bloggers “meet” online and become cyber friends. In rare cases, cyber friends get to meet in the real world (sometimes called, unflatteringly, the “meat world”). For me, it was the other way around with Zonker. I met him for the first time in Helen, Georgia in 2004, where he showed up without knowing a soul, and no one there (including me) had ever read his blog. Within minutes, he was one of the gang.

Since that time, I have been in his company at blogmeets in Jekyll Island, Tennessee (a couple times), Austin, New York City and most recently again in Helen. He manages to be a consummate gentleman and an ass-kicking party animal all at the same time, which is to say that he can seamlessly move from a serious discussion to wearing a mullet wig, fake tattoos or, most recently, devil horns, and it all works. Zonker is the guy who bought the dirndl that Velociman sported to everyone’s side-splitting delight in Helen last year (pic creds to Sam).

As a writer, he is among the best. He could dash off hilarious material, fire off a memorable rant, and occasionally tear someone a new asshole. Good stuff – all of it.

I will miss him in the Blogosphere, but he will remain a good friend in the “meat world,” and that’s a good thing.

I must confess that the politics and politicians of the day have drained me of my energy. I don’t think I need to explain.

With that in mind, I thought I would post something that I have enjoyed watching multiple times. It doesn’t speak of race, gender or enthnicity, but rather it screams of talent, honed to a fine edge by hard work, dedication and discipline.

Enjoy.

Via C&S

Just when New Yorkers (including one Brooklyn Jooette) were getting all smug and shit about Eliot Spitzer nosing out Jim McGreevey for the title of “Slimiest Governor” (with the help of a Jersey girl, I might add), a new McGreevey story splatters into the fan. This one allegedly involves Jim McGreevey, yet another young, male aide/travel companion, and Mrs. McGreevey in a series of post-TGIF-dinner threesomes.

OK, New York. The ball is in your court.

I took this photo of the window of one of our local Italian bakeries during a ground pound on Sunday.

I had no idea that St. Patrick loved him some excellent cannoli.

As much as I bitch about New Jersey, this is an example of one of the things I love about the place. “St. Patrick’s cannoli” — very cool.

Technodoofus note: The picture is blurred becauseI was hurrying to take it, as the store was open, and I didn’t want the owner to think I was a terrorist, or just some nut who needed his ass kicked. What I thought was a photo turned out to be a three-second video. My buddy Mike, the computer mavin, helped me turn it into a sort-of-a photo.