This week, my insurance premium went up $883.
In related news:
Funny, intelligent teenage boy seeks new home. All reasonable offers considered. Skills: Licensed driver; Xbox expert; does homework without being asked; watches The Colbert Report and gets all the jokes; open-minded, non-homophobic, non-racist, non-asshat; compassionate; reads classic novels without them being assigned; provides numerous laughs daily; gives a lot of hugs.
Oh, never mind. I'll keep him.
I Like Stuff
During the debate, Mitt Romney made a few bold statements.
"I like coal."
"I love Big Bird."
"I like great schools."
In honor of how brave he was, I'd like to share some things I like:
I like pistachios.
I like comfortable underwear.
I like dance movies.
I'm often told that I'm an honest writer. I feel better that I can be honest about liking a bunch of benign crap.
"Obama has too geaux"*
Before the debate began, we went all Mystery Science Theater during the intro.
|"Hello, good to see you, sir." "Fuck your mother."|
The consensus is that Romney "won" the debate based on his "performance." Plus, his American flag pin is slightly bigger which means he is way more American-er.
|The person who created this image won the Internet.|
|The clock is ticking on the contract, methinks.|
"[Obama] hasn't done this poorly since he debated Clint Eastwood." - Stephen Colbert.
I guess Obama's disappointing debate performance explains why I woke up yesterday morning with the inexplicable urge to have Republican men climb inside my uterus and use their personal religious beliefs to make my reproductive decisions for me.
Just kidding. I still don't let Republicans in my pants. I'm still pro-choice, I still think your employer trying to restrict the benefits health insurance provides is the equivalent of them telling you how you can spend your paycheck (benefits are part of your pay, you know), and I still think gay marriage should be legal and that people who believe in the "biblical" idea of marriage clearly haven't ever read the bible.
The other night, a person that the Great Chris Talley™ and I have started referring to as "Titts McGhee" (click on "Titts" to see why) posted on Facebook that "Barack doesn't believe in God."
Not one person in the thread called him on it. Nope. One woman just chimed in to say she thought the president should have to believe in God because all that separation of church and state stuff is just nonsense the founding fathers came up with after they smoked some of Betsy Ross's super-awesome weed stash.
I might be paraphrasing.
Anyway, I can't with these people. I just can't. Obama is a Christian. I will never understand why the "Titts McGhees" of the world have such a desperate need to spread false information. If it's not enough to reasonably outline your opinions regarding taxation, spending, civil rights, or social programs, and you feel you must make up complete and total bull shit based on fear to try to sway people's opinions, I'm going to have a hard time listening to anything else you have to say.
Yesterday, Mitt said he was "completely wrong" in his statement about the 47 percent. I'm curious what all the people who rabidly defended him for calling half of Americans lazy victims are now saying about this turnaround. Never mind. I know. "Ehrmagerd! Barack doesn't believe in God. AMURICA!"
Incidentally, I don't think it matters what Obama's religion is. If that mattered then it would matter that Mitt Romney believes in Mormonism, which is about as stupid as Scientology. But, hey, to each his own. Honestly. Believe what you like and let other people believe what they like. Maybe you've heard of a little thing called freedom of religion. Well, it also means freedom from religion.
It makes me think about this state in which I live and how, when you first move here, people ask if you root for Auburn or Alabama. You MUST choose one, they say. And I say, "No, my friend, I do not have to choose one of your two silly options. I can choose to watch Lifetime movies all Saturday long and never once hear the deafening boos and cheers of the indoctrinated houndstooth-draped masses, and it certainly doesn't mean I'm going to hell."
* "Obama has too geaux." Someone actually wrote this statement on Facebook the other night.
Dear Louisiana, Please stop spelling the word "go" wrong when you are not discussing football. It is not cute.
Dear "Titts McGhee," Please learn the difference between "too" and "to."
Girl Gone Wild
This week, I finished reading an excellent memoir by Cheryl Strayed. The title is Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail.
I highly recommend it.
No matter what "trail" you have had to travel in your life, you will relate to the author's search for answers as she stumbles along the path, a massive backpack she nicknames "Monster" strapped to her back. We all carry the weight of our "baggage." We all stumble. And I so desperately want to believe that eventually we come to a place in the journey when we can look back and say, "I made it."
But we must continue to move forward, despite the ache in our souls or our soles.
Conspiracy Theories and Day Drinking
If you haven't heard, there's a new conspiracy theory in the works. The great minds of the world are spreading it via Twitter. You can read about it here or I'll boil it down to the basics for you: Democrats are only pretending to be employed so they can lower the unemployment rate in order to help their chosen messiah, the Antichrist Barack Obama.
So, in the spirit of honesty with which all my posts are written, I will confess to you that I do not really have two jobs and a freelance gig.
I sit on my back patio and indulge in elitist activities like reading books and seeking out information.
Instead of working, I do a whole lot of day drinking and host weekly abortion parties. It's like a tupperware party, but in your womb. You know you're done when you hear the burp.
Oh, don't worry if you're not even pregnant. You can still come! One of our physicians from the Todd Akin School of Medicine™ will give you an abortion anyway.
Happy Friday, everyone. I'm late for my first cocktail, er, shift at my totally true, not at all made-up job.
|Linda, these abortion parties are the highlight of my week.|