There’s nothing funny in the news.

…and hasn’t been for some time.  So I haven’t had much to write about.

Since this blog’s hiatus, the dollar has bottomed out, Afghanistan has gotten worse, Obama has won the Nobel Peace Prize (no really, when you consider the ramifications, that’s not funny either), health care has continued its evasion of common sense, and Congress is belly-up in political still-water.

So let’ s just look at some pictures.

 

 

It's sort of sad when the elderly cling to falsehoods, like everlasting life, and people loving them.

 

Democratic Gubernatorial candidate for Virginia Creigh Deeds is f-f-f-falling b-b-b-b-behind. (T-t-t-t-too soon?)

 

Hill staffers can accurately predict the weather based on the fluctuating density of Senator Byrd's frontal lobe. The more he looks like a zombie, the more likely it is you're going to need an umbrella.

 

Professor Mindy Slavert, seen here, will build the world's first time machine in 2023. Unfortunately, Professor Slavert's lack of knowledge of US history, coupled with her apparent inability to convey topical opinions vis-a-vis legible protest signs will cripple any successful results in her work studying the space-time contiuum.

 

"...and for 20 bucks, we'll turn your mugshot into a full blown 'wanted poster' or baseball cards, or, hell, both!"

 

Most ironic tiny protest sign ever.

 

Seen here playing "Tiny Dancer" by Elton John, like most little people before him, Nepal's Shortest Man simply embraces the humiliation.

 

This isn't her first time holding two microphones... if ya know what I mean.

 

SOMEONE GET HER A MICROPHONE SHE'S GOING FOR THE FRONT ROW

 

Nokia appears to be getting this whole 'mobile' thing wrong.

 

"...yeah, and, oh, over there, we got Osama Bin Laden HIMSELF locked up. Yup, 2012, we just take him out of the cage, snap some photos, and Obama's got it in the bag."

"Huh huh... are you serious?" Secretary of Education Arne Duncan discovers what happens when you enter 55378008 into a calculator and flip it upside down.

The Far Right Is Just Plain Stupid, and the Far Left Is F***ing Certifiable.

That’s all I really have to say… Dunno if I even need to post anything beyond that at this point.

A Quick One Before I Go…

Andy Richter tore up Celebrity Jeopardy last night, and absolutely wiped the floors with CNN’s Wolf Blitzer’s beard.  Awesome.  Take a look.

And note the resemblance. 

Have a good weekend.  See ya.

Jay Leno for President!

The past few weeks, I have been building to this moment, to announce my nomination and support of Jay Leno for the next President of the United States.  I know a lot of you are reading that as a joke, but it’s not.  I am completely serious.  Jay Leno, the Funniest Man in America, deserves his turn at the voting booth. 

For those you living under a rock, you may or may not have heard that Mr. Leno humbly resigned his position as King of Latenight earlier this year to allow a younger Conan O’Brien to take his slot.  NBC, realizing the less funny O’Brien would make an absolute mockery of the historic TV spot with his talking bear and masturbating dogs, begged Leno to come back and host an entirely NEW hour of comedy at 10:00pm!  Genius!  As I watched this unfold, I knew, deep down, that Leno would be the ultimate Presidential candidate… funny, attractive, bellowing voice, head-on logic… he is a Decider!  A true patriot!  Not afraid to take the fight to BOTH sides of the aisle!  

I have a 10 point plan to put the host of the famed 10 at 10 spot in the front of every other ticket for 2012.  And how did I come up with this brilliant plan?  I didn’t have to.  Leno already came up with it himself.  In his monologues.  Genius.  No wonder everyone in America loves him!  Everyone!  Even black musicians!  HE’S HIT EVERY VOTING AUDIENCE HARD!  Check out the following zingers:

On gay marriage:

“In honor of gay marriage now being legal in the state of Vermont, Ben & Jerry’s is now selling ‘Hubby Hubby’ ice cream. You know, if you want to name an ice cream after gay marriage, why not just call it ‘Ben & Jerry’s?’”  HILARIOUS.  He’s implying Ben and Jerry DO IT.  And!  They’re married!  What??!

On bipartisanship:

“Well, people are still talking about last week when President Obama gave his speech on healthcare and that Republican congressman yelled out, ‘You lie!‘  He yelled out, ‘You lie!’ to the President. So, at least the two sides are talking. You know, and that’s good. There’s dialogue.”  IT’S FUNNY BECAUSE IT’S TRUE.  You know that’s so true, it’s funny. That’s Leno in a nutshell!  Whacky stuff!

On the Wall Street Fat Cats:

“Yesterday in New York City, President Obama gave a tough speech to the Wall Street Executives. See, Wall Street is considered a safe place for Obama. You see, on Wall Street, if someone yells out ‘you lie,’ you could be talking to anybody.”  HA!  Because they lied to us!  Funny cures depression, folks, Google it.

On race relations AND terrorism (way to mix it up, Jay!):

“Well, listen to this. Here’s some good terrorist gossip. According to a Sudanese novelist who once lived with Osama bin Laden for four months, Osama bin Laden is a huge Whitney Houston fan which is surprising. I mean, considering the way those people treat women, you’d think he’d be a bigger Bobby Brown fan.”  Terrorist gossip??  More like INTELLIGENCE.

He is so ready to run.  I mean he’s primed.  He’s grown his hair out, he’s interviewing tough subjects like Miley Cyrus… he even pulled off a joint interview with Tom Cruise and that chick with the semen in her hair from “There’s Something About Mary”.  I mean, how do you get through an interview with someone who’s had semen in their hair??  He’s clearly ready for anything.

And what about that 3:00am call everyone  was so worked up about last year?  Well, ask yourself: if it’s 3:00am in our Nation’s capitol, then what time is it in LA?  Tha’ts RIGHT.  Midnight.  Just an hour after Jay gets home from shooting his latest awesome episode of The Jay Leno Show!  He’s not even TIRED.  He’s probably doing pushups in his garage, next to his 500 muscle cars.  OH, and that reminds me, Jay on the environment.

“I don’t give a f*** about the environment.”

AWESOME. 

So be ready, America.  Jay Leno isn’t going away.  And if he does, you can bet he’ll be back, in the spotlight, in front of whoever he’s decided he wants to be in front of.  He’ll take away the other candidates’ votes with jokes, and  you know what else?  KEVING F***ING EUBANKS.  Bam.  There’s your ticket.

This is my calling.

House Resolution 179: I Am Rubber You Are Glue

Whereas on September 9, 2009, during the joint session of Congress convened pursuant to House Concurrent Resolution 179, the President of the United States, speaking at the invitation of the House and Senate, had his remarks interrupted by the Representative from South Carolina, Mr. Wilson; and

Whereas the conduct of the Representative from South Carolina was a breach of decorum and degraded the proceedings of the joint session, to the discredit of the House; and

Whereas the fallout from this most egregious act has allowed the Representative from South Carolina to gain over $2 million in donations; and

Whereas the coverage on the Representative’s actions played on National Media over and over is pretty much free press; and

Whereas the rest of us are struggling with finding a solution to Health Care to minimal positive press coverage and donors practically retreating; and

Whereas this guy shows up and calls the President a liar, and all of a sudden he’s the most popular member of Congress; and

Whereas I held a town hall on health care last week, and some guy brought a gun, another guy told me I was a traitor, and there were pictures of the President with a Hitler mustache; and

Whereas my job has become a farce; and

Whereas Congress has devolved beyond return thanks to antics of all members, not just Mr. Wilson; and

Whereas this behavior is preceded by that of the Democrats in the House in 2006 and 2002; and

Whereas this also happens daily in England (and they have a Queen!): Now, therefore, be it

Resolved, That the House of Representatives disapproves of the behavior of the Representative from South Carolina, Mr. Wilson, during the joint session of Congress held on September 9, 2009.

This was going to be about ACORN. But, eh. Whatev.

From the ACORN website: 

“ACORN is the nation’s largest grassroots community organization of low- and moderate-income people with over 400,000 member families organized into more than 1,200 neighborhood chapters in about 75 cities across the country.  Since 1970, ACORN has been building community organizations that are committed to social and economic justice, and won victories on thousands of issues of concern to our members, through direct action, negotiation, legislative advocacy and voter participation.  ACORN helps those who have historically been locked out become powerful players in our democratic system.”

If you haven’t heard, and you probably haven’t (more on that later), ACORN is in a bit of trouble.  Though, to put that in context, I should mention that ACORN is hardly ever out of trouble.  The organization has up until recently been accused of engaging in a handful of illegal activites surrounding lobbying, elections, and various other criminal franchises.  The process of pundits on the Right coming after the ’grassroots community organization’ repeats itself with the election cycle, and rarely does anything come of it.  Because ACORN is, for all intents and purposes, a wholly Democratic (the party, not the ideology) organization, attacks from conservative groups seem politically motivated, allowing ACORN to scream ”victim”.  Yes, up until now, ACORN has been accused of some nasty things, and they’ve gotten away with it.

So, if you haven’t heard about it, don’t worry, it’s probably because, like ACORN, the media is at the teet of the Democrats.  If you can’t stand Fox News for being biased to the Right (and dear Lord, are they biased), then get off your laurels and start bitching about the Left and the rest of nightly and cable news.  I don’t watch the news, and somehow, I end up being able to form my own opinion about pretty much everything without Johnny Shouting Match telling me which way to walk when it comes to politics.  Funny how that works, reading… and thinking.  And writing.  Like I said.  Don’t worry. 

A couple of conservative ‘activists’ (Young Republicans for Breitbart) strolled into a several branches of ACORN and video’d their conversations with several staff members.  Posing as a pimp and a prostitute, these two were able to get ACORN staff to sign on to various plots to 1) create a tax shelter for income gained through illegal prostitution performed in housing sought through ACORN, 2) get advice on running said prostitution out of resulting housing and, most agregious, 3) start a child prostitution ring using illegal immigrants from South America.  (Find the videos here.)

Nothing pains me more than for me to have to reach to the far right wing blogs for information on a scandal.  I had to sit through an interview run by Sean Hannity to get the gist of this.  That’s like getting a rudimentary math lesson from Paula Abdul.  But this is how the new media movement works.  Fox News, owned by Rupert Murdoch, is the last televised bastion of the Conservative Movement of 2000 – 2004.  From this once looming empire spawned Breitbart News, a conglomerate run by conservative Andrew Breitbart, who hosts several news and blog sources linked to Matt Drudge’s news catch-all, The Drudge Report.  This pocket of conservative media enjoys a bigger audience than the networks and various other cable news sources and sites out there, and have survived this long for posing as a non-conformist, apolitical source for news.  The liberal news sources do this as well.  It’s just, somehow, the conservatives do it much better.  How do we measure that?  Audience numbers and ratings are the battleground results for any media outlet.  It doesn’t matter if Drudge gets 4 billion hits in a year from red states, that’s 4 billion hits. 

So it’s bittersweet, because I absolutely hate organizations like ACORN, and I hate biased media… But anytime one of them gets in trouble, I love to see them dragged across the coals.  The notion that people living in the poorest parts of the country need to be shuttled to the voting booth is insulting and denegrates the spirit of free elections.  If people don’t want to vote, they don’t have to.  Moreover, if people don’t how to vote?  Inform them.  Everyone knows they have a vote in this country, and hey, if they don’t?  Then fix the goddamn Department of Education, because that’s the bigger problem.  Until then, I don’t care who you are, if you put someone on a bus and tell them to vote for one party or the other it’s electioneering.  You know they do it, and if you don’t, you might as well start a religion based on the unicorn, seeing as how you have fully embraced a seperate dimension in which ‘grassroots community organization’ means anything else other than Democrat. 

It’s like the political circus tent broke, the rain got in, and all the worms have crawled out of their damp dark spaces to soak up the mainstream.  The Town Halls, for instance, where the Right Wingers are calling Obama Hitler, his army of volunteers brownshirts… I didn’t like it when the Left did it to Bush, and I don’t like it when the Right does it to Obama.  The birth certificate issue… like, really, do you know how much vetting goes into the Presidential Election?  You think the FIRST thing they’d check is the guy’s Constitutional validity!  But I shouldn’t be surprised.  People are bringing assault rifles to political rallies to simply make a statement.  Where am I?  It’s like some high school kid’s poorly written, post-apocayptic, West Wing fan fiction.   

So, anyway, a fake pimp and a fake prositute walk into ACORN and get video evidence of something we all assumed was possible, that when nutjobs on either side of the political spectrum get organized, the rest of us suffer.  And guess what?  When they get caught, nothing ever seems to happen.  Just as voting and running for office and speaking your mind and getting involved are all part of the American Way, so is the accompanying scandal, rule breaking, ham fisted protesting, and criminal action engaged by those who seek to take advantage of our first ten amendments to that imperfect document established to create a more perfect union.  It’s nauseating. 

From ACORN’s website:

 ”As a result of the indefensible action of a handful of our employees, I am, in consultation with ACORN’s Executive Committee¹, immediately ordering a halt to any new intakes into ACORN’s service programs until completion of an independent review.  I have also communicated with ACORN’s independent Advisory Council, and they will assist ACORN in naming an independent auditor and investigator to conduct a thorough review of all of the organizations relevant systems and processes.  That reviewer, to be named within 48 hours, will make recommendations directly to me and to the full ACORN Board.  We enter this process with a commitment that all recommendations will be implemented.”

Yeah.  Right.

It’s Not Like I Have Type II Diabetes – The Biggest Loser Returns

It feels like it’s been an eternity since NBC rolled out (literally) their last season of The Biggest Loser.  Like an old, sweaty, dehydrated friend, The Biggest Loser is back, now stuffed with even more exploitation of contestants’ grief, shame, and sorrow.  Last night’s debut was loaded with stories of loss and struggle, and the producers, once again, shamelessly exploited every aspect of contestant confessionals.  In a (very) round table, contestants were prodded as to why they thought they had jumped the rails, and, as a follow up, why they were here.  Blah, blah, blah, orphanage, blah, blah, blah, firefighter, blah, blah, blah, my family died in a car accident, bl… wait, what?

That’s right.  NBC brought Abby on, a teacher from Texas, at just under 250 lbs, who, when asked why she was the way she was, broke down as she shared the tragic loss of her husband, 5 year old daughter, and 2 week old son in a car crash.  A shockingly legitimate heartbreaking confessional on The Biggest Loser?  Say it ain’t so.  Still, as terrible as her loss is, we have to remind ourselves that Abby is now on a television show because she’s tired of being overweight, and wants to make right the wrong that is her current state… oh, and she’s in the running for a cash prize.  Moreover, the website indicates she was overweight before the accident, so, invoking her family’s loss as an excuse for being overweight kind of sends me mixed signals.  I suppose being involved in this trash heap of a show precludes things like dignity and respect, so I shouldn’t be surprised.  But really NBC?  When you interviewed her, did you consider that maybe this was unfair?  The woman needs more than a weight loss show to get her life back.  What zingers are Bob and Jillian gonna throw at her in the gym?  Will they invoke the car crash to get her back on that treadmill?  I wonder how the cast will react when they’re put in a position to vote her off down the line.  I feel disgusting already.

Speaking of disgusting, let’s move onto Shay, the social worker from California.  Shay is the show’s heaviest contestant ever, if you can believe it, weighing in at 474 lbs.  Shay’s claim to shame last night involved a story about her mother dying from a heroin overdose when Shay was just a kid, and her having to move into foster care thereafter.  She fought her way through that horrible abandonment, vowing never to give up, and put herself through college.  Shay did a lot of vowing last night, claiming she was a fighter, a motivater, a pusher, a mover, a shaker…. until she met Jacob’s Ladder.  Seriously, that’s what it’s called, Google it.

Not Shay.

Let’s rewind a bit.  I’m getting ahead of myself.

The show kicked off with a brief introduction of each contestant, each one fatter and seemingly sadder than the next, as the TBL Tour Bus rolled out in the California country side toward The Ranch, where hopefully these people would get some sense knocked into them.  Suddenly, the bus stops and lets the Losers out on the road, where Ali, the show’s resident birther, informed everyone they’d be racing the final mile to The Ranch.  SHOCK!  WORRY!  PANIC!  A MILE?!  But wait!  (Of course.)  There’s more! 

Daniel, after mistakening The Biggest Loser last season for a show he made up in his head, The Nicest Loser: Hugs Edition, shows up in a black sedan to inform everyone he’s back.  Seriously, this kid is the most positive MFer on the planet, and hopefully he’ll sweep this thing, because I didn’t like a single other person from last night’s cast roundup.  This is the same Daniel who brought his walking piece of fried chicken friend on the show, and was kicked off, because said piece of fried chicken continued to smoke and pound hot dogs like every meal was a contest when sent home to compete off The Ranch. 

And then there was Tracey. 

I understand that a mile might be difficult for these guys, but props to the ones who actually ran it.  (Daniel cleaned up at 14 minutes in first place, to give you an idea of the lethargy we’re dealing with this season.)  The last stretch of the run ended up on the beach, and Tracey here collapsed.  Didn’t seem genuine, honestly.  She screamed, “MY LEGS UR JELLY” before planting her zepplin like torso onto the sand.  She struggled a few times to get up, each time looking right into the camera, before a TBL medic approached her and tried to lift her.  “UM GONNA CRAWL!” she ranted as she clawed her way through the sand, until several more medics arrived to pull her to her ‘feet’.  Her eyes rolled back into her head before fixing themselves on the camera once again… she never finished the race and was rushed to the hospital.  Hey Tracey?  This isn’t an audition for More to Love.  It’s The Biggest F***ing Loser.  So unless your serious, go home.  We don’t need this prima donna BS.  No way your collapse was real.  I mean, Shay beat you.  SHAY. 

My favorite thing about a season opener on TBL is the visit to the Doctor Whatsisface at the Institute For Not Being So Goddamned Lazy and Fat.  (I made that up, btw.)  Doctor W. tells each contestant they’re sick, then he does a series of tests on each of them to show them just how effed up they really are, like blood tests showing their capillaries have been replaced by Ju Ju Bees, or that their sperm count now equals ‘hamburger’.  Sean, the youth pastor with an effeminate southern lisp (hmm) who just wants to “hug his wife” (hmmmmmm) sat with the doctor last night after he’d written on his medical history sheet that he simply had no medical issues.  The doctor giggled a little as he said, “How does a man at your weight keep a straight face when he hands over a sheet of paper that says he has no medical issues?”  Zing!  Sean replies, “It’s not like I have Type II Diabetes or nothin’.” 

The doctor leans back.  “Sean.  You have Type II Diabetes.”  SNAP!

Back to Shay, who was given a CAT scan in the zoological wing of the facility, to show how much of her body had been overrun with fatty tissue.  NBC had no problem showing the CAT image, and I had no problem taking a pic with my iPhone, as I wiped tears of laughter from eyes at the sheer audacity of the network to parade these poor people around.  I also have no problem producing said image, here, for your own viewing displeasure.   Seriously, the image on the left looks like the Hulk dressed up to go trick or treating as a skeleton.

The show rounded out with the typical last minute workout, and a hapless unknown first weeker severed from the cast (Alexandra.)  With more cast to review in the early parts of the season, the producers are forced to tone down the repetitive nature the show takes on later in the season, as NBC is forced to fill 2 hour blocks of fat people working out with some sort of drama or event.  The show is best at the front end, when we are treated to drastic weight loss weeks, people breaking down on machines, machines breaking down from people being on them, and the general hysteria that accompanies people being motivated beyond what they’ve thought they’re capable of. 

 Expect me to continue tuning in for more recaps and mockery of the show I love to hate.

Sweeping Generalizations – Abercrombie & Fitch

It all started in 1997 in Atlanta.  After visiting colleges all over the southeast, and discovering that my wardrobe lacked necessary certain elements of conformity, having mostly been acquired over the previous five years in Italian malls and at the base’s somewhat out of touch and always out of date PX (post exchange for your civilians) back home, my mother decided we should go shopping.  Several stores were recommended to us: American Eagle, Old Navy, and Abercrombie & Fitch. 

It wasn’t so bad, back then.  Before the loud techno music, the topless Denim Boys, the CBRNE-like assault on the olfactory vis-a-vis the cheap cologne pumped through the air ducts… if douchebags had a Disney World, it would be named Abercrombie & Fitch.  But back then, it was just a template for preppies who wanted some of that plaid and denim look that dominated the early 90’s, only this time, it would be fashionable to be unfashionable.  The kids that frequent(ed) A&F have more than likely never played the rugby sported in the ads on the wall:  nubile, topless young men tackle and toss each other through muddy fields, smiling their Mayberry smiles, always seeming seconds away from some sort of fashion orgasm.  Young men adorn the front of every store now, topless, close, in hopelessly erotic poses the models were either too dumb to notice, or too happy about to be considered even close to the archetypical straight males the store wishes to attract to the register.  Back then, it was a store, with hardwood floors, some moose shirts, and flannel.  I bought a winter jacket there.  It fit, and lasted all of two winters. 

I went back in 1998 one night with some friends from my dorm to get some shirts for a party we’d been invited to by the girls on the other side of the dorm.  As we walked through the store, ducking through the sale racks trying to find a price that matched our income (none), we were pummeled by the smell of cedar and pounding techno music.  Ben looked at me with a desperate sort of glare, as if to say, “Are you serious right now?”  Mike lasted maybe 5 minutes.  Nestor didn’t seem to mind so much.  (That was Nestor.  Sorry, dude.)  We ended up at the Gap, with its brightly lit interior, corduroy selection, and REMish soundtrack at a polite level, it was/is the vanilla of clothing stores.  Shirts acquired, we left, and began our next mission: get beer.

I returned to A&F in Tallahassee, back in 2005 before coming up to DC to see if I could score some decent jeans.  5 minutes after walking in, and realizing that my size, 35×32, was all the way at the top of the jeans wall (the most inaccessible part of the wall happened to have the larger sizes), I looked around for someone to help.  Another guy walked up, shirtless, and asked if I needed some help.  Shirtless.  Cut.  Tan.  And then there was me… swollen, hairy, 35×32.  Regular job. 

Take a minute and think what you would do if someone hired you to sell things topless.  Women and men.  Go on.  Now think about your current job.  Makes you happy, don’t it?

I just kind of stood there.  I stuttered out a ‘no thanks’ (I think), and turned out to leave.  I looked behind me on the way out and noticed the topless guy talking to another topless guy who was sliding a ladder across the shelf, the kind connected to bookshelves in libraries.  Only this was for jeans.  I knew it was ridiculous, but I didn’t find it funny then.  And I find it even less funny now.  Why?

This.

Now, I could fault the girl for taking her autistic sister into such a terrible store, but honestly, I don’t know what the women’s apparel section is like in Abercrombie.  I feel like I would know, or would have checked it out… perhaps topless men handing out denim would receive some quid pro quo in the women’s section… probably not.  Still, here’s a girl, autistic, being denied a service she’s entitled to by a public store.  I can picture it now.  Some skinny bitch of a Abercrombie employee, smelling like something between cedar, pine, and rodent sex, in cutoff jeans and a tiny shirt embroidered with some sort of sexual innuendo mixed with a State’s motto (Missouri: The Show Me Your Boobs State), hanging shirts she’s found left behind in the dressing room (because that’s her really important job), clicking gum back and forth in her tiny, bitchy mouth, probably wondering what “Todd” or “Drew” is doing… she’s standing there, and this poor girl and her sister walk up for help.  This little piece of shit denies them access to the dressing room, based on “company policy”.  Though, “company policy” more than likely translates to Rodent Sex’s need for empowerment, having been robbed of any autonomy growing up by being repeatedly told she should stick to dolls and makeup by her father, treatment doomed to be repeated by the boys she chooses throughout her shitty, vacuous life.  So… Ms. Flannel Rodent Sex, III tells this poor girl and her autistic sister to move it or lose it.  Then she goes out later that night, and she tells her friends, “OMG YOU GUYS, I TOTALLY KICKED OUT A RETARD TODAY!  EWWWW!!!”

Boy, if I ever had to describe Abercrombie to anyone, I would have to use that paragraph and the accompanying news story.  It is one store I am happy to say I do not frequent, and if I did, I’d probably be the kind of person that would find it funny to refuse someone with a handicap a service afforded by us “normal” folk.  Okay, yes, that’s a sweeping generalization.  But if you look up, you’ll see that this is a blog.  And it’s written by me.  And that’s kind of my thing.

The Reclining Airplane Seat Placebo

Bess and I were up by 4:30am to make our 7:30am flight out of Denver back to DC.  After several days of hovering between Boulder, Colorado Springs, and Aspen, we were a little worn out.  Despite being a great trip to the middle of America, being deprived of sleep by one unfamiliar mattress after another will take its toll.  I have pictures that tell the better part of the trip; the gorgeous views, good food, Norman the French Bulldog, our digs in Aspen… but our return to reality was punctuated with some bitterness.  Consider the trip a complete success before I begin my tirade.

After taking our seats on our return flight, we immediately realized that they did not recline.  Oh, there was a button you could press that would lead you believe you could recline, but no, it was just a placebo.  I clutched the arm of the seat and pressed my hardest, pushing back in frustration, again to no result.  I looked at Bess as if someone had clutched my heart out of my chest, “Guess we aren’t sleeping!”  Bess, who had just taken Dramamine to ensure a deep sleep all the way back to DC looked back in resulting fear, on one hand for being robbed of the prospect of sleep, on the other for having to tolerate my infantile reaction to the situation.  Frontier apparently removes the reclining functions for rows 10 and 11 of its cross-continental aircraft, because they’re near the emergency exits.  (I haven’t figured out the relevance, either.)  But I nodded off anyway.  Apparently, when it comes to sleep, physiology beats physics. 

I’ve never had a drunk flight attendant before.  The woman was a sight to behold…  she looked like a Disney villain, cracked lips, wrinkled face, sunken  eyes… her hands were wrapped with veins, skinny but swollen, like a neuse knot.  She slurred her way through the emergency protocols:  “Taayyke juh seabel and pushin the sum maskuhs gon’ fall…”  And it wasn’t like she was bored with her job.  In terms of volume, she outperformed any other flight attendant I’d witnessed.  She talked, and talked, and talked.  Sheer mushmouth.

On beverages:  “We haffa vodkas, whiskers, cokes, n… jush ask yer ttendants en they brin it.”

On movies:  “Prefews on ferteen… swipe thcard.”

On landing:  “We here.”

etc.

Guy who brings food on plane at 7:30am.  This guy is always on my flight.  Usually it’s something tempting, like Cinnabon or McDonald’s.  This time?  I dunno, a sandwich from somewhere.  Ham and cheese, enough mayonnaise for me to smell it.  Ugh.

New flight attendant security measures…?  Really?  Have you guys seen this?  The pilots need to pee pee, so the attendants set up a blockade using the drink cart in front of the cockpit door, where the service corridor runs perpendicular to the seating aisle.  Never forget, indeed.  This is going to stop some raving lunatic from storming the cockpit?  How about they do what my dad did when we used to travel around Europe?  “We’re not stopping, you should have gone before we left.  Yes, I know it’s a 9 hour drive, that’s why we have the pee pee bottle!”  <Produces blue bottle with the letter ‘P’ written on all sides in Sharpee.>

Pictures up later.  Awesome trip.  Ready to go back.

Misplaced Technology – Twitter, June 20, 1776

thom_jefferson

Wrote some stuff with @johnny_adams today.  Looking forward to emancipation from British!
5:12 PM Jun 20 from TwitterParchment

Just invited Ben Franklin to sign up.  Told him it would be cool if he could tweet from France
5:19 PM Jun 20 from TwitterParchment

@ladiesloveben Are you serious with that screenname. 
5:48 PM Jun 20 from TwitterParchment

#followfriday @ladiesloveben @johnny_adams @thegeneral @hancock @samadams @willfloyd2 @2ndcont_congress
5:50 PM Jun 20 from TwitterParchment

@ladiesloveben Can’t make it.
6:24 PM Jun 20 from Twitter Parchment

k got to go eat something famished.  The British would be better off taxing my appetite than my food!!! LOL
7:10 PM Jun 20 from TwitterParchment

Been thinking about conversation with @ladiesloveben on the press.    
8:24 PM Jun 20 from TwitterParchment

Freedom of the press?  Maybe?  Are we tossing this word around too lightly?  “Freedom”
8:26 PM Jun 20 from TwitterParchment

Whatever, hope the Press can maintain a sensible dignity if we grant them inalienable rights to speech.
8:27 PM Jun 20 from TwitterParchment

@ladiesloveben  your right I don’t think so but whatever hey how about we emancipate slavery while we’re at it?
8:40 PM Jun 20 from TwitterParchment

Night.  early Saturday with @2ndcont_congress
9:13 PM Jun 20 from TwitterParchment

ladiesloveben

test
5:43 PM Jun 20 from TwitterScroll

@thom_jefferson You know it my boy.  Come to France with me next Summer, I will show you just how much they love me.  There are some women t
5:51 PM Jun 20 from TwitterScroll

wtf why is there a character limit?  So much for ‘freedom’ of speech!  LOL
5:52 PM Jun 20 from TwitterScroll

what is followfriday?  I am not so good with this took me 10 minutes to figure out this @ symbol.  heiroglyphs?
5:54 PM Jun 20 from TwitterScroll

@johnny_adams As visitors in this town, we should engage the local businesses as friends… wanna get hammered?  Smith’s Tavern?
6:10 PM Jun 20 from TwitterScroll

@johnny_adams Yes, they have food there, too.
6:13 PM Jun 20 from TwitterScroll

@johnny_adams See you then.  @2ndcont_congress we are going to Smith’s if you all are interested
6:20 PM from TwitterScroll

@thom_jefferson what convo u should come to smiths we are gettin tossed
8:26 PM from TwitterBerry

@thom_jefferson expressing my freedom to party right now!!!!
8:28 PM from TwitterBerry

@thom_jefferson THE PRESS SUCKS THEY ONLY CRITCISE IOUR WORK AND THEYR GAY HOPE THEY DON READ THS
8:38 PM from TwitterBerry 

johnny_adams 

Having a hard time projecting… I must question science when something like this comes before amplified sound.
5:12 PM from TwitterScroll

LOL RT: @thom_jefferson @ladiesloveben Are you serious with that screenname. 
5:49 PM Jun 20 from TwitterScroll

Bored.  Missing Abigail and the kids.  (But mostly Abigail lol)
6:08 PM from TwitterScroll

@ladiesloveben k cool do they have food I could use some stew or whatever it is we eat in this period of history
6:12 PM from TwitterScroll

@ladiesloveben Let’s do 7:30 I need to take a bath I smell like a dandy’s pisol muzzle
6:18 PM from TwitterScroll

Bathing till I turn prune!  oh the luxuries of urban Philadelphia
7:03 PM from TwitterScroll

No towels.  Philadelphia be damned!  using wig to dry off
7:12 PM from TwitterScroll

Heading to Smiths for ale and stew with @ladiesloveben.  maybe some port later if we feel like it.
7:18 PM from TwitterScroll

@2ndcont_congress can we take tomorrow off gonna be totally hung over not in the mood to talk about freedom
11:36 PM from TwitterScroll