Where do they get bottled water?
You know, that so-called "pure spring water" everybody drinks nowadays.
Where does that water actually come from?
The bigger question is: has anybody checked the water for funny chemicals lately? Is it radiation? Some kind of gene-spliced Franken-virus? Psychotropic drugs? Alien nano-tech? Glenn Beck bathing in the reservoir? The machinations of cats? What? There’s got to be something in the water is what I’m saying here.
Where exactly is that spring anyway?
I'm guessing that it's got to be in Louie Gohmert's backyard.
Because, man, speaking of Louie, it's been a weird month so far, hasn't it?
The George W. Bush Presidential Library opened last week.
Bush Library, those are two words you don’t usually see together in the same sentence, unless they’re caveated with the phrase “book burning.”
Yes, yes, I know, former First Lady Laura Bush is a librarian, but that just makes it even weirder (seriously, you’ve got to wonder about that arrangement. I mean she had to know, right?).
The Big Dubya says he didn’t want the George W. Bush Library to be “all about him.” He says history will judge his presidency.
So, so very many jokes, so, so very little bandwidth.
Stonekettle Station was there, of course, way back in 2009, long before mainstream media. For you, gentle reader, I do it for you. And for the fame and the glory and the piles of genuine American cash bucks.
And the easy gratuitous sex.
But mostly for you.
Bush says he and former VP Dick Cheney have a “cordial” relationship. Cordial. I don’t know, man, I’d double-check the security if I was Dubya, and I’d stay out of cornfields and away from men with shotguns and orange vests. I mean, we saw what Dick does to his close friends. Cordial is likely to get you a ride on the ol’ Rendition Special and waterboarded in an undisclosed former Warsaw Pact satellite nation by large lumpy men with Bulgarian accents.
Cordial, that was the same kind of relationship Cheney once had with Saddam Hussein and look how that turned out.
Wait, what I am I saying? I’m rooting for Bush here and how in the hell did that happen? But otherwise I’d be cheering on Cheney and his black clockwork heart, and no, wait, I, uh, Goddamnit, it’s hard to know who to side with in this relationship.
Listen, I’m just saying, if you drop by for a visit and the GWB library staff has Bulgarian accents, I’d run like hell.
And as long as we’re on the subject of testy cordial relationships that are likely to end with a gun “accident” in the middle of a cornfield, you’ve got to wonder how John Boehner is getting on with his soon to be son-in-law.
Seems Lindsay Boehner is engaged to dreadlocked Jamaican-born Rastafarian Dominic Lakhan.
Lakhan was busted on pot charges in 2006 – because, well, when you’re boffing a Rasta, giant knit caps and large fragrant buds of cannabis sort of come with the territory.
Boehner, as you’ll recall, is vehemently opposed to drug use, including and especially marijuana. Plus he’s more or less head of the same group who isn’t real big on immigrants from the islands, mon, if you know what I mean.
And next month his daughter is marrying a Rastafarian from Jamaica.
Now it’s not like we didn’t already know about Jesus’ twisted sense of humor when it comes to the children of conservatives (speaking of Dick Cheney) but man, this takes the cake (and the chips and the cookies and the leftovers and, hey, Dad, don’t you have anything to eat around here? I got the munchies baaaad. But I digress).
I don’t know about you, but I sense one hilarious reality TV show in the making: Thursday night on Fox, it’s Mr. Speaker Gets Baked! Tensions mount when Lindsay brings her new husband home for the holidays. Things start out with a bang [overdub sound of rhythmic squeaky bed springs from the guest room]. Watch things go from bad to worse when a certain prominent Republican mistakenly eats a plate of magic brownies right before a big House vote on immigration! Wake the kids and set the DVR, you don’t want to miss one minute of this week’s hilarious hijinks! (special guest appearance by Honey Boo Boo, brought to you by Doritos).
Anthony Weiner is back on Twitter. Says he can’t be sure there aren’t more pictures of Little Tony floating around the blogosphere.
If I was Weiner (first thing I’d do is change my name and/or my fetish. So many joke, so little bandwidth), I wouldn’t worry about it, nobody remembers the warm-up band. No seriously, see, Bill Clinton joined Twitter this week.
It’s like the ribald comedy just writes itself, isn’t it?
With all the conspiracy theories flying around lately, I’m shocked that Alex Jones isn’t openly speculating on whether or not this is all a set up paid for by late night comedians.
Think about it, two politicians famous for not being able to keep it in their pants?
Weiner and Willie?
Even Jay Leno could get a couple of laughs out of that.
Speaking of getting a rise out of conspiracy theorists, apparently one of NASA’s rovers drew a naughty picture on the surface of Mars.
NASA tried to deny it, just like Tony Weiner and Bill Clinton, but they’re not fooling anybody. Every guy who has ever passed out during a college dorm party recognizes that picture – usually they discover it the next morning, drawn in permanent laundry marker on a prominent part of their anatomy, right before they have to meet their girlfriend’s parents for brunch.
I’m going to be honest here, I can’t wait to see what the Face On Mars nuts comes up with for this one (Nuts. See what I did there? Ballsy move, right? But I digress).
Face on Mars, I suppose it was only a matter of time until we had a Wang on Mars.
And as long as we’re on the subject of nutty conspiracy theories, how about New Hampshire Republican Stella Tremblay (I swear I’m not making that name up).
Not content with just being a run of the mill loony-tunes birther or buying into every goofy debunked conspiracy theory regarding the current president, trembling Stella went after Woodrow Wilson this week (Also, Trembling Stella is up for grabs as a band name, have your people contact mine. Rates are reasonable. I take PayPal).
During a state legislative committee on Federal Relations and Veterans Affairs this week, Tremblay stood up and announced that she wanted to use the last day of Black History Month to outline the contributions of African Americans to early America – and then she launched into a wild rambling unintelligible fever dream that began with Frederick Douglass and somehow got to President Woodrow Wilson being an enthusiastic supporter of Adolf Hitler.
“Woodrow Wilson, because he was a sympathizer and he believed in the Aryan race, he believed that Hitler was correct in the races, where our Founding Fathers believed that all men were created equal. He went through all the educational material and wiped out all the, uh, all anything, that he could about the true history, about how the slaves were a really good integral part.”
Just one thing: Woodrow Wilson left office in 1921.
He died in 1924.
During Wilson’s time in office, Adolf Hitler wasn’t precisely a nobody, but he wasn’t exactly front page news outside the beer gardens of Munich either. He’d just gotten out of jail for his treasonous attempted coup against the German government, the Beer Hall Putsch, and was more or less lying low and licking his wounds. He was elected Chancellor of Germany in 1933 – about nine years after Woodrow Wilson kicked the old Aryan bucket – and didn’t become the actual Fuhrer until the end of 1934.
But hey, if you’re already a birther with a tenuous grasp of reality, why let a little thing like actual history get in the way of good conspiracy theory, right?
After connecting Wilson to Hitler in support of Black History Month, Tremblay worked her way around to the point: her bill to force New Hampshire to recognize what she says is the “original” Thirteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution – which she says is really about strengthening the ban on titles of nobility.
Because apparently that’s an actual problem we have here in the United States.
The rampant, widespread, unregulated, willy-nilly conferring of titles upon the peasantry.
As I’m sure you know,
certain raving nutters actual historians with actual degrees in actual American history claim that a constitutional amendment covering titles of nobility was ratified by the states in the 1800s and then taken out of the Constitution by Abraham Lincoln during the Civil War and replaced with the existing “Thirteenth Amendment” – which supposedly bans slavery.
See, according to Stella Tremblay, the idea here is that since Honest Abe allegedly pulled some kind of flim-flam, the US Constitution is, in fact, void.
Which makes America not a real nation.
Which somehow means it defaults back to the previous owner.
Now, just so you don’t think she’s completely nuts, Tremblay double-checked her historical facts with David Barton. Barton writes books, on American history, so he’s like an expert – never mind that his book, The Jefferson Lies, was taken out of print because it made actual experts in US history fall onto the floor and foam at the mouth in convulsions.
According Tremblay’s spokesman, who addressed reporters in order to make sure the liberal Lamestream media didn’t take Trembling Stella out context, the United States is no longer a country. See, it’s now a corporation chartered in the District of Columbia – which Tremblay's proposed legislation actually notes in the text. And because the “real” Thirteenth amendment was ratified and then illegally removed from the Constitution by President Abraham Lincoln, Lincoln's actions dissolved the United States, which means he could not have actually emancipated the slaves.
Bummer, Black People, looks like you’re all still property. Gives kind of a different meaning to Black History Month, doesn’t it?
Tremblay’s spokesman then went on to explain how the United States is still subject to Lincoln's declaration of martial law and is now under the control of Queen Elizabeth II.
I swear to you, I am not making this up.
It’s all true.
So terribly, terribly true.
But, really, folks, how awesome is a speech that begins with the contributions of African Americans via slavery, connects an American president to Adolf Hitler through posthumous Nazification (I visualize this process kind of like how Mitt Romney’s church can just convert random dead people into Mormons), manages to raise the lurking danger of unsuspecting Americans being suddenly raised to nobility (Wait, I’m a Baron? Goddamnit, I suppose I’ll have to order new checks now), and finally ends up with a declaration that reveals surprise! slavery is, in fact, still legal and we all belong to the Queen – all during a speech supposedly in support of Black History Month.
Anybody know if NASA is taking requests?
Maybe we can get Curiosity to draw a picture of Stella Tremblay in the Martian desert?
I’d chip in a fiver, as long as they made it big enough to see from Earth.
In fact, I’d like to pre-order the Hubble poster, please.
And then there are the poison letters.
Last week, somebody sent ricin-laced letters to the president, a U.S. senator, and an 80-year old Mississippi judge.
Predictably the conspiracy nuts went apeshit.
But eventually all the sensational leads involving space aliens, Bigfoot, the CIA, and North Korea turned out to be dead ends. This entire thing appears to be just another tired and clichéd case in which an alleged child molester named Dusty Dutschke, a part-time taekwondo instructor and part-time lead singer in a band consisting of himself and a robot, attempted to frame a mentally disturbed Elvis impersonator who believes the federal government ruined his life to hide its involvement in a secret plot to harvest organs from corpses and sell them on the black market.
Honestly, how many times have we seen this exact scenario?
On Wednesday, authorities were at a small retail space in Tupelo which Dutschke once used as a martial arts studio. Investigators in gas masks and Hazmat suits like something out of The Andromeda Strain were observed carrying large containers full of plastic-wrapped items from the building. Once outside, other officers started spraying down the protective suits with some sort of mist in an obvious attempt at biological decontamination.
Officers at the scene wouldn't comment on what they were doing – which, you know, demonstrates an admirable degree of self control. Because frankly, at this point, I imagine the urge must be damned near overwhelming to walk out of that building, face the microphones, and announce in a solemn and sincere voice, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we just found the zombified body of Jimmy Hoffa sitting behind the controls of a flying saucer holding the trigger used to bring down the World Trade Center. Also, Mr. Hoffa had President Obama’s Kenyan birth certificate in his pocket and the plans for a hundred mile per gallon carburetor… Ur, I mean No Comment! No Comment!”
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to run down to the hardware store and pick up a water testing kit.
I’ve got well water and a massive high quality filter system, but frankly, you can never be too careful.
Especially when they really are out to get you.