Randomness: Head Meets Wall Edition

Smelliness is Next to Godliness - A new fragrance directly from the Deity that brought you Intelligent Design. Ah, the smell of it!

The Answer to That Would be Yes - New Yorkers have always thought of the Hudson river as a cesspool, but it's a shimmering vision of loveliness compared to this.

Baby Food Jars From Hell - Everyone keeps a few jars around the house of storing those odds and ends. I think I'm going to rethink that though.

Their Other Blog is a First Aid Blog - Combine a wet cat with and short-sleeved shirt and injuries will ensue.

Cussing in Esperanto - Now this is a useful site you poephols.

Eeeeew! - Dude, isn't picking them up for your significant other embarrassing enough?

Hiding In Plain Sight - Hey! Isn't that whatsisname? You know...that guy. Oh man, I SO know that guy's name...

And Down at the NASCAR Patisserie - Having your cake and driving it too.

Why Couldn't It Have Been Air Guitar - Clearly, people in Kansas City have too much time on their hands...and bad taste in music too.

Smell the Marketing - These ad guys have been smelling a little something more than the rainbow.

MyHouse - This whole MySpace thing is getting out of hand. (HT to The Churning).

Error 000 - The page at the end of the marketing internet.

Music Soothes the Washing Beast - I want an iWasher for my birthday...as long as it doesn't play Smoke on the Water.

Somehow, I'm Not Surprised - How the hell did they get that thing up there?

Spy vs. Spy - I'm glad to see that our spy agencies are keeping up with the latest technology after 9/11. (HT to Cap'n Dyke)

Support the Troops - Throw a few of these out on the front lines and those pesky terrorists will get such a bruise. Bring it on baby, bring it on.

Yo, Jake and Elwood - A food fight gets out of hand. These kids today don't know how to do anything properly.

Does it Come in Seaweed? - Those clever Japanese are always coming up with something new. I reckon they'll be releasing heroin Sugar Smacks next.

Cut Off From Reality...Him? - George hears voices...now filmed proof.

Uncle Ben Stirs the Pot - Whoa, what a radical dude he is. Move over Malcolm X.

Plugs for Holes - What a selection! Always Aroused Girl (NSFW), are you reviewing these anytime soon? Or, how about this?

OOOOO! That Tickles - “I am not attempting this record for the money,” he said. I should hope not.

Asshats on Parade - But if you burned it, they'd be all over your ass.

Labels: humor, randomness

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Thursday, June 07, 2007

Fight Theocracy, Be a Randomist

Atheist Analysis - If God made everything in the world, did he make atheists too?

Save the Simians - It's silly, but someone has to watch out for our simian friends...eh, Dr. Z?

Offering Her Flower - Sure, Always Aroused Girl (NSFW) test-drives sex toys and writes about her amorous adventures, but her flora photos are the bee's knees!

Campaign 2008 - Even though Bill blazed the trail for this (NSFW), let's hope Hillary doesn't make the same offer during her campaign.

What's Next? - What's next, Broccoli Coke?

"We're Here to Pomp You Up!" - It also comes in a Schwarzenegger autographed model. But, there is a danger if you use steroids.

Flush Your Cares - There's something strangely arousing about this.

Hotter Than Gazpacho - OK girls that's enough snickering in the back there.

Run Stinky, Run! - Yeah, but will it need a rhinoplasty one day?

God's Everywhere You Want to Be - Your purchases earn points so the pontiff can buy new shoes or see Harry Potter, Revenge of the Nerds.

1001 Uses for a Stray Cat - Wouldn't locking them up be easier?

Eeeeew! - Remember that time you syphoned some gas out of your tank and sucked too hard? (H/T to Tits McGee)

They'll Always Have Baghdad - Was Wolfie kicked to the curb?

Tree Victim of Bicycle Crash - Clear the Path! George has been out cycling again.

Homeland Insecurity - These are the people guarding our streets and these are the people they're guarding us from.

I'm a Little Bit Rock & Roll - Time sure flies. It's already been a half century, yet it seems like so much more.

Ahhh, the Stench of It - Next Up, Britney Spears Rancid, a heady mixture of sweat, cigarette smoke, stale diapers, bikini wax, and tequila.

Attention Mitt Romney Supporters! - A little sumpin' sumpin' for the lil lady. (H/T Gangstas & Hugs)

Useless Invention #1316 - Why?

People Will Steal Anything That Isn't Nailed Down - This is obviously not a lesbian wanting to have kids.

How Much is the Placenta in the Window? - The testicle of a right whale is to a midsized car like a human eyeball is to a male polar bear.

We Must Eat Them Over There Before We Have to Eat Them Over Here - George called and wants his freedom fries back.

Honest, I Was Just Self-Medicating - Yeah. I'm not buyin' it.

Labels: humor, randomness

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Saturday, May 26, 2007

Random Randomness

Laura B. Fights Back - Slap some tits on her and she could pass for Dolly Parton. (H/T to Debsweb)

That God Sure Knows His Houses - I may not believe in God, but he sure can put up some fancy digs.

As If The Real Things Weren't Scary Enough - A rogue's gallery so strange you might find them in a video game.

OMG! I'm My Mother! - Fearing becoming your mother seems to be more a female thing, but here's help for any gender. And if you don't want to cut the, er, strings...

Take a Chill Pill - Or any other kind of pill for that matter. If the insurance companies and drug companies get a load of this, there'll be hell to pay in Drugtowne.

Ted is My Copilot - Certainly the best teddy bear project I've ever seen. We're even prepared for the eventuality the plushies might crash.

I Wonder Where They Go When You Flush? - Yes, I admit to a tiny little obsession with urinals. It might be the increasing amount of time I spend in them as I get older...or it could be how much I love the smell of urinal cakes in the morning. TMI?

Holy Burritos Cap'n! - One can never have too many burritos nor too many places to store said burritos.

Little People in Space - There are a plethora of reasons to love local TV commercials and this is one.

Lesbian PSA - And now, presented for the benefit of our lesbian readers...

Why Do They Do It? - Because they can.

Buy the NEW Swiffer! - Have dog, will mop dust. Handy as a throw rug too.

Froggie Goes A'Hoppin' - It's a French site...get it? Frogs? French? Aw, come on. That's hillfrickenlarious!

YIKES! - If I see one of these babies, I'm not hanging around to take pictures. There's aliens in them damn things!

Break Out the Red Noses - Bush is a bigger joke, but then he doesn't mean to be. Parump-puhm.

Seven Cum Eleven - I'll never be able to get a Slurpee again.

Why? - Another product in search of a market. Make that two. No, make it three. Oh hell, let's just go for an even four. OMG, there's more!

Carpal Tunnel Anyone? - "The next one who calls me a secretary instead of administrative assistant is gonna get a March 6, 2007 between their eyes. I've got talent you know."

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Labels: humor, randomness

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Friday, May 18, 2007

POP! Goes the Bubble

It's time to rethink this whole Bush in a Bubble metaphor. Bubbles are fragile things borne on feathery puffs of air, changing course on a whim. They're also transparent, so if President Guy was inside one he'd see what was happening outside. Instead, we can't change George's course with a Force 5 hurricane and if he's looking outside, he's doing it through three feet of steel-reinforced concrete - and let's not get started on what the Big Dick's undisclosed location must be like.

Let's view the course change first. We can sum it up in one word - surge.

Surgin' Along

It's true it's still early, but it seems the only ones confident in the surge are George, the Big Dick, and the Twins. Death squad killings are up, Barney and Mrs. Beasley are out tracking kidnapped soldiers, and retired Generals continue to rip George a new one every few weeks. Even when he does change course - as with his recent decision to talk with Iran - he denies it's a change, but an "amenable conversation".

A real bubble would have long since popped.

Bubble-like transparency is a joke too. There are so many scandals Congress can't direct the heavy traffic. The House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform will postpone its own "amenable conversation" with Condi Rice to make room for a deposition from George Tennet on the evidence that got us into this bubbly Iraq mess. They're apparently setting up an Attorneygate carpool to move that scandal along.

Scandals, Scandals, Scandals

Hydra-headed scandals never elicit more than a yawn from the White House, so they've sparked a growing insurgency within the ranks of the Kool-Aid drinkers. Last week's Republican congressional delegation stopped by for tea, cookies, and a little ass-reaming and George made it sound like a love fest rather than the smackdown it was.

They weren't alone. Heretofore hardcore conservatives are getting fed up too. RedState.com editor Erick Erickson is, "tired of defending a party that continually puts into positions of power known perverts, louts, and corrupt common criminals." He's drawing up a "battle plan" that aims to, "wage war upon them until they bend to common sense and decency."

Well, ain't that just enough to frost a President's bubble?

Even the "bidness" guys are turning on him. Bloomberg News said, "While the other major democracies have, or are about to have, new leaders, America is mired in a rudderless status quo. A new embarrassment or scandal...seems to surface daily - the only good news for the White House is that occasionally these stories overshadow the bad news coming out of Iraq. Private conversations with Republicans throughout America reveal doom and gloom about a politically paralyzed presidency and party."

Ken Lay Returns From the Dead

What's next, is Ken Lay going to return from the dead and bite Decider Guy's ankle?

No, a bubble is not what we have here folks. What we have is a train on the wrong track and headed for the washed out bridge.

We should be so lucky that he lived in a bubble. If he did, we could simply pop it and make him go away.

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Labels: bush, humor, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Monday, May 14, 2007

A Good Walk Spoiled

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I've somehow reached middle age without taking up golf. I don't see the appeal of doing something so damnably difficult for recreation, but there you go - "different strokes for different folks" as they say.

When she was younger, I took the Omnipotent Daughter to mini-golf a handful of times. Aside from breaking a window in the miniature Dutch windmill with an errant putt, not much good came of it.

I also allowed co-workers to drag me to a golf scramble in mid-February on the frigid, blustery plains of Ohio. We shivered and played with an orange ball so we could find it in the snow. My slow pace kept everyone waiting way too long and several of us missed the next week of work with severe colds.

Golf at Goose

My only "real" game came in Goose Bay, Labrador. Braving swarms of mosquitoes and black flies, a friend and I borrowed a putter and a driver and went to play the now-defunct course on the Canadian Forces Base where we were staying. We got an idea of just how challenging the course would be on the first hole.

We teed off from a 12' round slab of cement covered in moldy Astroturf. It was equipped with a permanent steel tee jutting up in the middle. Our first shot was down a long "fairway" choked in weeds and sporting hundreds of pine tree stumps cleared for the second coming of Arnold Palmer. On the left was a large water hazard about the size of Lake Michigan. A moose grazed in the reeds along the shore.

Because I'd always heard it in the movies, I yelled FORE! and smacked the ball as hard as I could with my borrowed putter. "Nice shot," my friend said as my ball caromed off a granite boulder.

Mind the Moose

He lost his first shot in the lake after it bounced off a 2-ton moose ass. "Can I have a do-over on that," he asked?

"Yes. Please. That moose looks a little pissed."

We merrily chased the balls down the fairway, chopping and hacking as we went. We covered our huge divots by pushing knee-high weeds over them. Occasionally, we lost our balls in the rough (no pun intended). It was hard to tell where the fairway ended and the rough began. So, we agreed that when a ball went far enough into the head high weeds that you couldn't see the other golfer, it was officially in the rough.

If you had to call for a wilderness guide, it was a two-stroke penalty.

A Little Juice

After an hour, we arrived at the Hole 1 putting green. It rose about 4 inches above the veld on a square concrete slab covered in the best Astroturf the Canadians could provide. My friend putted first.

"Guess I'm going to have to give this a little juice to get over that lip on the green," he said as he thwacked the ball with his driver. And thwack he did - so hard the ball struck the concrete lip and rebounded into his forehead with a solid POCK.

"Nasty break on that one," he said. "Be careful."

I prepared my putt by yanking a handful of reeds out of the ground and throwing them professionally in the air to test the wind. They fell with a thud because I'd neglected to shake the muck off them before casting them aloft.

"Hmm, looks pretty calm," I said knowledgeably.

The Ungloved One

I lined myself up and wiggled my ass as I'd seen professionals do. I was confident I'd make the putt. There were no windmills with broken windows to block my way. I only wished I had one of those single gloves the pros wear - maybe a rhinestone one like Michael Jackson's.

I wasted six strokes before getting up onto the elevated green. When my friend's ball joined mine, we wasted another five strokes playing croquet and knocking each other's ball away from the hole.

Eventually, I managed to accidentally hit my ball into the iron pipe hole and it disappeared into the bowels of the earth. My friend's ball also disappeared, although we did hear his gurgle when it hit water a few feet down.

We'd played one hole. It took close to two hours. We tied at 60 strokes each and felt quite proud of our accomplishment. As we drank the celebratory beers we carried on our pockets and slapped at the huge insects sucking us dry. We wondered what par was for the hole. We looked for the sign, but it was laying in the grass, apparently shredded by a passing bear.

"Good game," my friend said.

"Yeah, same to you," I replied. "Maybe we can go on tour next year."

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Labels: humor, memoir, travel

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Saturday, May 12, 2007

As We See It: Benchmarked Edition

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Labels: as we see it, humor, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Thursday, May 10, 2007

Cherry Nibblin' Randomness

Shout the Power! - Maybe Condi could use this idea as the basis of some sort of power-sharing agreement with the Syrians. (H/T to Tits McGee)

Pomp and Circumcision - Rumors have it several Regent University grads did their undergraduate studies here. They submitted their SATs using this. (H/T to Konagod)

Hirsute Hounds - Great site, but the Albanian dude looks like he may need a little remedial training in differentiating canines and felines.

Piffle on Palfrey - Now that the DC Madam is laying off the girls, maybe some of them can get hired here. If not, there's always the streetwalker route. (H/T to Coyote Angry)

Who Woulda Thunk It? - I'm sticking with my original opinion. I don't care what Cracked Magazine says.

Asswipes for an Asswipe - Honey! Do you want me to pick up some more at the store?! I hear she's coming out with Tampons for Traitors in retaliation.

Counter-Intuitive Smog - If the air is bad for you, where did the guy get the lung power to blow this thing up. Huh? Well? Gotcha there, didn't I? HA!

Signs of the Times - And not a Poobah symbol among 'em. I smell a discrimination suit coming on...

White Men Really Can't Dance - Raise the roof y'all! The apparently can't recite the Pledge of Allegiance either.

War is Sexy - Even the country music fans are getting the hint.

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Labels: humor, randomness

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Saturday, May 05, 2007

When's an Emergency Not an Emergency?

e·mer·gen·cy - (n) a sudden, urgent, usually unexpected occurrence or occasion requiring immediate action.

The Commander Guy has never been known for his eloquence, so a little remedial reading might be in order.

"George, stop poking the other kids in the eye and turn to page 3 in The Pet War. Sit up straight so we can read together...and turn the book right-side up please."

Paying for the War of Error

The War of Error is funded through a series "emergency" supplementals, an installment plan predicated on imminent threats by a beret-wearing moustache and assurances the war would last, "weeks or months, certainly less than a year". Plenty of people fell for this twaddle, so it seemed reasonable at the time. Besides, it gave Congress a shot at some budget oversight via periodic reviews of war spending.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the, "sudden, urgent, unexpected occasion". It lasted four glacial years. The Republican Congress - aided by some quivering Democrat-Jelloheads - evaluated the emergency supplementals based on a string of new Presidential promises. WMD, regime change, nation-building, insurgency, Iraqi security, and a vague notion of "success" came and went like clockwork. Congress looked at the emergencies du jour, slathered on some extra lard, and passed the bills along for a Presidential scrawl.

Hostile Takeover

Through his ineptitude, George awoke one morning to find the Congressional Bank the target of a hostile takeover. The new management expected to see a return on their investments. They wanted a metric to show the strutting and posturing meant something beyond worthless drivel. Politely asking the BushCo CEO failed. Rallying the citizen stockholders failed. Finally, the Congressional Board decided on due diligence and inserted metrics into the emergency bills.

The CEO President went ballistic, as bankruptees in denial sometimes do. He railed against the bank, claiming he was being hornswaggled by unreasonable demands to meet quarterly performance benchmarks. Like any reasonable creditor, the bank continues to work out a deal, but the CEO Guy is having none of it. Even though he's the one in trouble, he demands withdrawal of the bankruptcy petition, full restoration of his emergency budget, and a juicy bonus for being so viciously attacked by enemy-aiding accountants.

Stockholders have seen this scenario play out time and again. In the end, the CEO usually loses and finds himself rooming with Dennis Kozloski at Club Fed or "pursuing exciting new opportunities" as a gentleman cow puncher in Texas.

It couldn't happen to a nicer guy.

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Labels: bush, humor, iraq, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Thursday, May 03, 2007

Americans Are Such Slow Learners

Shameless Self-Promotional Note: The Poobah clicked over 25,000 unique visitors today. If there was a Grand Prize to celebrate, it would go to an unknown visitor from W. Babylon, NY who came to the Poobah via a search on (and this is real): "how to cope with a chronic complainer" - very appropriate I thought.

So, W. Babylon person...thanks. And don't let any towers fall on you.

You can continue your quest for cultural enlightenment now.

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Four hundred years ago this month, three shiploads of settlers left England for the New World. Today, we think of Jamestown as a crowning achievement built by intrepid explorers challenging a dangerous and uncertain New World. In fact, the adventure was a problem-filled fiasco that nearly collapsed before finally taking root. Their problems were similar to those we face today - except dressed up in funny iron helmets, bulging pantaloons, and lace collars.

The epic voyage's poor planning was eerily Rumsfeldesque - as they say today, "mistakes were made". The Virginia Company - the Halliburton of the day - filled the colonists' ranks with a collection of n'er-do-well upper-class gentlemen and poorly trained lower-class peasants ill-prepared for a mission of exploration. They were commanded by cronies hand-picked by the company back in England.

The Unwelcome Wagon

After meandering at sea for months, the colonists arrived at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay low on supplies and in a cranky mood. They were so glad to see land again, they pulled over and threw a fabulous Mission Accomplished celebration. Unexpectedly, a band of natives appeared to run the group off mid-ceremony - not unlike the Iraqi Welcome Wagon threw imaginary flowers, and later bombs, at the feet of their conquering heroes.

The ships traveled up the James River looking for a place to colonize. Again - much like a Halliburton project - they couldn't have chosen a worse venue if they'd run a billion dollar feasibility study. The place was swampy and full of malarial mosquitoes. The drinking water was so salty, it poisoned several erstwhile settlers. Despite the lessons of their aborted Mission Accomplished celebration, the settlers sat back and relaxed until attacked by another band of insurgents. The fort they belatedly built was an oddly prescient harbinger of Baghdad's Green Zone.

Eating Their Own

While the fort protected them from natives, it didn't protect them from each other. Chronic shortages of food and political infighting plagued the colony. Their uneven foreign policy with the Indians consisting of periods of peaceful trade interspersed with deadly attacks provoked by blundering settlers expecting European behavior from the locals. A sort of reverse Old Europe mentality to paraphrase Rummy. Each time there was a crisis, the weak Company-appointed leaders were jailed and replaced by self-aggrandizing braggarts like John Smith. Replace Smith's iron helmet with a cowboy hat and he bore a striking resemblance to our current leader, except the he somehow managed to actually keep things moving.

Reduced to eating rats, the colonists began to eat their own. Archaeologists say murder was a common occurrence and political upheaval was the norm. A slow bleed, reinforced by Smith's promises of just one more corner to turn, reduced the population to 38 starving souls. Despite the dire conditions, the gentlemen of leisure still only worked at the point of Smith's sword. Apparently, draft deferments were still a few years into the future.

Eventually, the demoralized settlers decided to make the long trip home. On the back to the sea, they met long overdue supply ships bearing the flag of KBR, er, the Virginia Company. They surged back to the abandoned fort and proceeded to eat nearly all the provisions in yet another Mission Accomplished celebration, leaving them where they left off except for additional mouths to feed.

Halliburton's Board Gets a Clue

Unlike the theocratic, evangelical New England colonies to come, Jamestown was supposed to be a business venture. The Virginia Company, heavily invested in sure-fire gold futures, found none. They eventually turned a profit by selling wild weeds. It's rumored the first weed farmer was named R.J. Reynolds - a man who swore by the medicinal powers of the stuff.

True capitalists, the Company belatedly realized you can't make things to sell if you have no skilled labor. They pitched glassmakers and other artisans the delights of life in the New World. Craftsmen surged in, buoyed by promises of free land after serving a six-year indentured servitude. The upper class gentlemen still refused manual labor and the servants' enlistment bonuses were held hostage to Iraqi-like stop-loss orders and involuntary deployments. Then, as now, the upper 1% profited the most.

Americans Are Such Slow Learners

As much by accident as tenacity, the colony survived and 400 years on left us with a country that still hasn't resolved the problems of poor leadership, bad policy, and poorly distributed economic gains. If there's one thing that can be said for Americans, it's this:

We're really slow learners.

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Labels: humor, iraq, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Wednesday, May 02, 2007

What's It Like to Be a Dick?

Sometimes, I wonder what it's like to be Dick Cheney. Is he really that sullen and sour in his personal life? Does he see plots around the corner from his living room as readily as he sees them in the Washington press corps? I've known more than my fair share of difficult and persnickety people, but Dick is at the extreme edge of the envelope.

The Cheney family (they pronounce it Chee-Nee) makes a little more sense.

Wife Lynn can be snippy while she unstintingly supports the Big Guy, but she at least smiles occasionally and intimates there may be an actual human being lurking under the skin. Daughter Mary is the lesbian who's seemingly more sensible than Mom or Dad - perhaps that "gay gene" had a common sense enzyme attached to it. Daughter Elizabeth may be the smartest of the bunch. She's normally remains in the background, just an entry in Dick's Wikipedia entry, thereby avoiding the ill-will of the nation and two-thirds of the world.

The Two Dicks

For me, there are two Dicks. One is the affable, seemingly competent SecDef during Gulf War I. He smiled. He gave interviews. He answered questions rather than telling the questioners their questions were "inappropriate". Then there's the Dick we suffer today. A curmudgeonly semi-hermit, with all the warmth of Batman's Penguin, who crawls out from under his rock to pronounce most of the US population traitors and unpatriotic vermin. Dick's Gulf War smirk has turned into a venial, incessantly pissed-off mug convinced everyone in the world is wrong except him.

There were harbingers of Dick's conversion from his Gulf War self from the beginning of the administration. Tasked with choosing a viable Veep for George W. Pootiehead, he chose - SURPRISE! - himself. Even by Washington standards, that was an impressive display of hubris. I believe he always coveted the top job, but was savvy enough to know he couldn't win, even with Robertson, Falwell, and Dobson rowing his boat. He needed the coattails of someone so completely devoid of common sense, they'd outsource the whole job to him.

By the time Dick and George took the stroll down Pennsylvania Avenue, Dickie had stacked the cabinet and pulled off a silent coup. People accused Junior of being Dick's ventriloquist dummy, but Dick wasn't just pulling the strings, he chose the dummy's outfits, dressed him, emptied the sawdust turds from his shorts, and guided George's hand across whatever paperwork he couldn't sign himself. Dick divided his time between his secret, undisclosed location and showing up at the White House and the occasional Sunday morning talk show to let people know just who was in charge.

Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

One Smart Dick

There were a few dampers at the Cheney Theatre of the Absurd, but mostly he ran amok, undeterred by the guy actually in charge or any of the politicos charged with keeping him on a short leash. Dick was, and is, a force of malevolent nature. Team him up with Rove and they make Katrina look like a breezy day in the spring. They don't believe in a scorched earth policy, but scorching the dirt, digging it up, and firing it into space on the tip of a nuclear warhead.

There's probably little left to fear from George as his administration runs down. He's slow and the scandals are deep. He's already stated his intention to be pigheaded until the last day so we'll get what we expect from him until the next election because quite frankly, there's little left for him to hose. It'll be wall-to-wall scandal and world class ineptness all the way.

But Dick is smart. He may be crazy, but he's mean and single-minded. It's a deadly combination. From all outward appearances, he's a man obsessed and not shy about using his considerable power to make the point that he is right and everyone else is wrong. I don't know what the corrosive substance was that turned him so rabid, but it's still there and hasn't run it's course. I wonder about what the inside of his head looks like and what it all means for the rest of us. I can't even picture Dick with a kid on his knee, so I'm completely in the dark about what he might be like with all restraints lifted.

Dick may go quietly or he may decide to take the rest of us down with him. Nothing is out of the question where Dick is concerned. He has the disposition and cunning of a wolf. Even if I can't see what's inside that angry head, I can see he's still as dangerous as a rabid dog - and just as unpredictable. I just wish I could see what it's like to be Dick Cheney, but one thing's for sure...

I won't like the view.

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Labels: humor, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Sunday, April 29, 2007

The Incompetent's Incompetent

It's no secret the Bush administration prizes political patronage for "loyal Bushies" over anything else. All administrations dole out plum assignments, but Bush has stacked the entire government right down to the Assistant Postmaster in Hooterville, USA.

Bush's nominee vetting is inept. He selects his junior Turd Blossoms based on their belief in God or willingness to walk through fire to protect his craven ass. He has the uncanny ability to select people who don't have the faintest whiff of experience for their feather bed jobs. The result? They dig open pit mine-sized holes from which there is no escape save once again becoming lobbyists and CEOs.

At Least He's Our Turd

Congress, especially the Republicans, only compounds the problem. Their approval rationale goes, "I think he's a turd, but by God, he's our turd and that's good enough for me. Let's vote!"

The dysfunctional selection process guarantees appointees selectively bred for failure. A Presidential staff, who never met a donor they didn't like, submits nominees with no experience beyond the brownest nose and plushest lips ever to graze a Texas backside. Congress holds their nose and approves the nominee even when the nominee can't identify the three branches of government, much less run one. When the nominees stumble into trouble, the Bush/Cheney/Rove troika give them their full, unqualified support...while handing them a bar of pig iron as a floatation device.

With a process like this, it's amazing the country continues to stand. Every nook and cranny of our government is chock-a-block with people having the perception of a tree stump. They are so magnificently incompetent you might refer to them as incompetent's incompetents.

The Incompetent's Incompetent

Alberto Gonzales is the latest one. He, or whoever pulls his strings, stupidly decided to replace Federal prosecutors in a spectacularly ham-fisted way. He could've said, "It's legal, we can hire and fire at will" and shut his mouth. Instead, he started a long slide down the slippery slope of a self-made dung heap. First, he justified the firings by explaining the sacked lawyers were sub par performers - except for that one he canned because Karl's office boy in charge of BJs needed a job. When that didn't fly, he blamed it all on his sub-incompetent consigliari. Shockingly, they balked, resigned, and spilled the beans to a now very interested Congress. Each of their conflicting statements was another shovelful of dirt from Al's giant excavation. The fired prosecutors charged political interference with on-going investigations and records and notes contradicting Al's testimony fell like a blizzard. The White House was involved, and then it wasn't. He took full responsibility even though everyone except him and screwed something up. Al was living a hyped up through the looking glass existence.

Finally Al whimpered, "Hey boss, I need some help here." George replied, "He has my unqualified support...by the way, what was his name again?"

Dick said, "Frankly, he's an Al Qaeda agent and should be waterboarded."

Karl tried out the delete feature on his email and five million keystrokes later said, "Oops, my bad".

He's Passing Through the Earth's Crust

Meanwhile, Gonzo kept digging. He's miles past the Earth's crust now and well on his way to an inevitable meeting with the hot magma of truth.

People expect Bush's cronies to be incompetent, but they expect them to be incompetent in the Dick Cheney, shoot a guy in the face way. It takes real incompetence to rise above such a pathetic field. But Al has done it.

He's worse than Wolfowitz. Dumber than Rummy. Less stately than Condi and more incindiaryingly ill-fitting than John Bolton.

The Amnesiac Defense

Al has diminished himself with so many misleading statements, white lies, and giant whoppers he couldn't get Barney to follow him to a plate of Snausages. An angry mob is calling for his testicles, his own cronies have turned against him, and he's portrayed himself alternately as a liar and nitwit incapable of doing his job. His remaining defense is as an amnesiac.

"Mr. Gonzales, state your name for the record."

"I'm sorry Senator, but I don't remember my name. I'm afraid I wasn't present at that birth and never read the birth certificate in question."

Oh, if only I could get a case of amnesia. I don't know how much longer I can put up with the present.

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Labels: humor, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Friday, April 20, 2007

Clap for the Wolfman...

Since he took office, the Employer-in-Chief has found any number of jobs for cronies, political hangers on, and incompetent boobs. Brownie, John Bolton, and half the graduates of Pat Robertson's Regent University are just some of his spectacular hiring decisions. Apparently, George is setting himself up for a promising career with Monster.com after stepping down. This guy could put most placement services to shame - he works on commission too I hear. Very cost effective - if you are the hiree and not the hirer.

The success of his uberhires is on display again with another one of his placements under the gun - Paul Wolfowitz. After the neocon acolyte of Donald Rumsfeld showed the world his brilliant strategery for Iraq, the Recruiter-in-Chief found him a new gig as head of the World Bank. Paul spit-combed his hair, donned his best rat-chewed socks, and headed off for the Bank's executive suite.

Wolfie Laughs His Way to the Bank

Unlike many of Bush's appointments, Paul actually made some progress in his overhaul of the bank - proving that even idiots can do something useful once in awhile. He clamped down on the endemic Third World graft so common at the bank and made some inroads in improving morale at the bank. For a few moments it looked like this crony would actually steal victory from the jaws of defeat.

Flush with his dazzling and unexpected success, Paul found a girlfriend with whom he could share his good fortune. However, girlfriends are expensive (and presumably in this case, also blind). She'd need a little something to tide her over and buy a few knick knacks for the elicit love nest. A man with the pull to fund entire nations had the perfect solution - hire the little chippy.

Skimmin' His Career Away

It doesn't appear as though the girlfriend was solid World Bank material. Moderate raises came and went for others, but oddly, the girlfriend sleeping with the boss on his office hide-a-bed got bigger and better ones. She may not have showed much savvy for international finance, but she knew where to scratch Wolfie when he needed a lil' sumpin' sumpin' to keep him banging, er, banking along.

Like a bunch of those damned ungrateful Iraqis, the employees starting throwing bombs instead of flowers at the conquering Wolfie. Paul's response was to pronounce the nepotism no big deal. "Hey, we've got gazillions of dollars here. What's it going to hurt if I skim a little off for my best friend ever? Robert Mugabe does it."

Many of the shortchanged employees didn't buy it and pointed out that fighting corruption with corruption is a like fighting fire with fire. However, with his in-depth knowledge of the arsonary arts, Wolfie didn't buy what they were selling. As always, Wolfie knew best. There was a standoff - employees against boss and boss against employees. You might call it a civil war if not for George's Totally Abridged Civil War Dictionary.

There'll Always be Another Job

So here we sit, with Third World Countries to fund and Paul and Chippy comfortably ensconced in their hermetically-sealed, protective Glad bag. If you listen carefully, you can hear Paul screaming, "I'm Treasurer of the World! I can really stop corruption now that I've had some first had training. Much better training than that horse race fixing gig Brownie had too!"

But, the employees still aren't buying and the bank's board - along with quite a few finance ministers - are jumping on the "Dump Wolfie" bandwagon.

Eventually, Wolfie will grow short of air in his protective bag and he'll need a new job to leap to. I'm sure that as soon as he puts out the call, Bush Placement Services will find him a new job. Perhaps something in the Department of Justice.

I hear there'll be an opening there pretty soon.

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Labels: humor, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Wednesday, April 18, 2007

News in Review

Rove Emails Deleted - According to the White House, nearly four years worth of emails sought by the Senate Judiciary Committee were accidentally deleted by President Bush's political advisor Karl Rove. White House spokesperson Dana Perino said, "The President believes the emails were deleted by Al Qaeda operatives. He is quite disturbed by this action and has vowed to get to the bottom of it."

"Anyone found guilty of this crime will be sentenced to a position as a federal prosecutor and summarily fired for never having graduated from law school," Bush is quoted as saying. "I believe it is important for the public to appreciate the high levels of trust and honesty continuously displayed by my administration."

When asked about the four year gap, Rove explained, "It was just a minor error. I leaned over to answer the phone and my foot hit the delete key," Rove said. "It could have happened to anyone. The keyboard was only 12 feet away in the next office. Those democrats are just a bunch of nappy-headed hoes bent on the politics of personal destruction"

Iraq Surge - In response to continued criticism of his Iraq policy, President Bush announced this week that he would withdraw all but 12 soldiers from Iraq. The National Guard members are expected to have their tours extended by at least six years to help stabilize the country.

At the same time, Bush requested Congress approve a three-fold increase in the pending emergency funding allocation. "I plan to show my continued support for the Iraqi government by issuing a no-bid contract to Halliburton for the construction of 16,000 cardboard cutouts of soldiers," Bush said. "These cutouts will stand as a proud testament to all the progress we've made in Iraq."

Unnamed sources said Bush also plans to revitalize Iraq's destroyed infrastructure by deploying 60 papier mache power plants, 160 miles of Christmas ribbon printed to look like superhighways, and thousands of hospitals and schools constructed of shoe boxes. Those sources say Bush's plan will ultimately succeed because the faux products are all made from recycled materials. "Let the dems and their global warming compadres suck on that one," one source said. "That Al Gore thinks he's just so smart. He's not the only one who can be a tree hugger you know."

Romney Adopts Pro NRA Stance - Presidential candidate Mitt Romney announced last week that he was a longtime hunter and had recently joined the National Rifle Association (NRA) for their low-cost, term life insurance plan.

"I've hunted my entire life, although mostly within the last two years when I participated in unlicensed bunny shoots," Romney said. "I'm no big game hunter. I shot the occasional squirrel, small varmint, or snofibgulos on the planet Bangdor."

After his prepared statement, Romney was asked, "Governor Romney are you on drugs or do you really believe you've visited Bangdor?"

Romney replied, "No, I'm not on drugs. I'm a Mormon dammit - we can't even drink coffee! Bangdor is a wonderful planet. I especially like the anal probes they offer there. Quite refreshing," Romney said while smiling vacantly.

Romney's campaign manager said of the comment, "Damn! He's done it again. The tricky bastard is off-message. Jenny, go hunt him down and get him back here. He needs the anal probe again."

Lieberman in Line for War Czar Job? - The President announced this week that his administration is hiring a special "czar" to lead the War on Terror. According to Senator Joe Lieberman, the czar would report directly to the President so that he is ensured, "clear and unambiguous advice not offered by the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Defense Secretary Robert Gates, or the National Director of Astrology. Clearly, the President can't mastermind the entire endeavor himself," Lieberman said.

After three rebuffed attempts to offer the job to retired generals, Lieberman put his own name in contention. "I think I can build on my abortive quest for the Vice Presidency and vast experience as a Senator from one of the smallest states in the Union, to lose the war more quickly, thereby ensuring victory," Lieberman said.

Vice President Dick Cheney, pausing during a snofibgulous hunt on the planet Bangdor, said he doesn't think Lieberman is the best choice at this time. "I'm the Decider around here. The War on Terror is the centerpiece of this administration and I'm the one running the show. Now excuse me while I return to the hunt. Festus, hand me a No. 3 Furlburfel Blaster. Those pesky snofibgulous are damn fast."

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Labels: humor, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Sunday, April 15, 2007

Randomness Wolfie Style

Stinky Cheeseman Has a Girlfriend - Paul Wolfowitz is in deep doo doo over allegations he's been giving his girlfriend big pay raises. I know I'd need some payola to stay with a dude who wears holey socks, combs his hair with spit, picks his nose in public, and destroys entire countries by email. Obviously, that woman has a terminal case of low self-esteem.

Was It Good for You? - The Big Lie turned on it's head. Maybe they should use this service next time. Or, if it doesn't work out, this service. (NSFW and a tip of the omnipotent miter to Tits McGee)

But What About Ken? - Apparently Barbie is so much more than a astrophysicist brain surgeon with big boobs. She's quite the little plastic minx too.

How Much for a Lap Dance? - Hubba, hubba. (NSFW)

Horndogs-in-Chief - Clearly Dubya is not part of this crowd, but if they were doing the 10 Imbeciles-in-Chief survey, he'd be golden.

A Barack Obama for the Next Generation - Finally, a candidate I can really get behind. At the very least, she'll garner more votes than this guy. At least he didn't lose to a dead man like John Ashcroft. "Let the eeeeeeeagles soar..."

Run Ladies, Run! - Cap'n, run like the wind. The old geezer is after you and he really likes the ladies' ladies!

Would You Buy a Car From This Man? - Dubya must have been a car dealer in a previous life. The proof? It's here.

On the Catwalk - "I'm too commie for my shirt, so sexy it hurts." Those Ukrainians sure know how to make the fashion statement, eh? (NSFW)

Hair Today, Photoshopped Tomorrow - It's funny, but I always pictured them this way.

Wanna a Little Jesus With That? -First, you see images of the holy dude on toast, now he's in the peanut butter. Man, that guy is hella omniscient.

I Liked the Creme Filled Ones Myself - Yeah, but what do you dunk them in?

Angst Filled Fergie - Bumpin' to the humps with Alanis.

Get a Job! - Dad always told me to learn a good trade.

Barb Speaks the Truth - "Clinton lied. A man might forget where he parks or where he lives, but he never forgets oral sex, no matter how bad it is." - Babs Bush. Kinda like this.

From Microsoft Advanced R&D - Behold! The secret of Windows Vista.

Just Another Day at the Office - I'm suing these guys. They've obviously ripped off the idea for this game from my life at the office. Even if I don't win, I'll get back at them! Mwaahahahaha!

Yo Quiero Masterpiece - The talent some will show with their food, but can they make Mickey Mouse pancakes with chocolate chip eyes?

Made in Japan - They can invent a toilet that automatically blow dries your ass and yet they can't even master surfing for porn. Rank amateurs!

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Labels: humor, randomness

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Monday, April 09, 2007

Time for an Energy Thingamajig

Over the past 30 years, administrations of both parties have squandered golden chances to forge a coherent energy policy. Though the problem had built for years, it reached a big juicy zit in 1973 when OPEC closed the taps and Americans started buying over-priced gasoline on odd or even days. As the sheiks ordered up another round of couscous, Americans got the rude awakening.

"Gee, maybe trusting the Middle Eastern despots isn't such a good idea."

Ya think?

Oil or Borax?

Reagan did little about energy independence. He was too busy trying to outgun the commies and do a little gun running on the side. He believed the US was the bee's knees and, 23-skidoo, he forgot the world's sole remaining superpower got around in a fleet of 2 gal. per mile Lincolns. Perhaps he couldn't tell the difference between borax and oil. After all, they both came out of the ground.

Although the Gulf War was nominally about Iraq invading Kuwait, it was also a prelude to what happens when the whole Middle East goes up in flames. Unlike his lunkhead son, 41 waged a popular war. He emerged with record high polls and had - again unlike his idiot child - real political capital to spend. With the despots beholden to him and the populace ready to do his bidding, it was the perfect time for a coherent policy. However, his dismal departing poll numbers and loss of the election tells the story of just how shallow the Ewing, er, Bush gene pool really is. Golden Opportunity No. 1 came - and went.

No "Oil" for the Blue Dress

Then, Slick Willy came to town. He talked a good game, but made no real progress. It was clear the old what's good for GM is good for the country maxim was alive and well and living in Little Rock. The only change on his watch was to loop the gas waster manufacturers and gas suppliers together to share the cost of lobbyists. Bill pissed away his golden chance for a BJ under the desk.

Damn, that little minx Monica must have been good. Too bad it wasn't oil that stained the infamous blue dress.

Smilin' George's Hummerland

Now comes George the Stupider. From atop the smoldering rubble he brought it to those dangerous, cave-dwelling, video-taping, Islamofacists. But, George's missing weekends with the National Guard didn't prepare him to wage war nearly as well as his Dad. Shrub, Rummy, and the Coalition of the Inept sat down at the 'ol campfire, pulled out their mess kits, and promptly shat in them - repeatedly. When those mess kits filled, they ordered up another 110,000 and ate more beans. Meanwhile, the oil gushed so fast it threatened to pucker up the entire Middle East as it flowed into Smilin' George's Hummerland dealership where the motto is, "I'd give 'em away, but my wife won't let me!"

Oil Can George turned his energy policy over to Big Dick Vader. Dick asked the oil lobby to write the policy while he got a change of batteries for his pacemaker. Then, he howled about ANWAR as if it was the last untapped field on the planet. He followed with an encore of propping up Ken Lay and telling the country, "There's no possible way you can conserve your way out of an oil crisis"...and Osama was too shacked up with Saddam you traitorous vermin!

Oil greases the US's skids. It ties into defense policy, environmental policy, and foreign policy. Almost nothing in this country is untouched by the availability of oil. We're in a race between holes burned into ozone layer by oil or an energy crisis of gigantic proportions.

The Perfect Metaphor

But, leave it to George. He took a vacation from the War of Error last week to unwittingly craft the perfect metaphor for his energy policy.

During a demonstration for a hybrid hydrogen/electric Ford, George raced to a live charging cord, picked it up, and promptly began to shove it into the hydrogen tank. Ford CEO, Alan Mulally - he of the four-month $39.1 million payoff - leapt into action and saved the leader of the free world from self-immolation, proving that what's good for GM must be good for Ford too.

About $39.1 million good for him. Not so much for the country.

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Labels: humor, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Sunday, April 08, 2007