Shorter James S. Robbins
Posted on November 19th, 2008 by Tintin
- Nuh-uh. The New York Times obviously doesn’t know that we still use big words. For example, look at my link here where the Word-o’-the-Day cited our use of the word “execrable.” That word has four syllables and only our really
smartperspicacious readers even know what it means.
‘Shorter’ concept created by Daniel Davies and perfected by Elton Beard. We are aware of all Internet traditions.™
Execrable: How to describe Doughy Pantload’s tighty whities at the end of the day.
Execrable: How to describe Doughy Pantload’s tighty whities at the end of the day.
Ah, jeez, thunder, gag me with a spork!
“Yes, we know that WFB Jr. is rotating in his grave at a high speed – we’ve hooked his corpse up to a generator and we’re using it to power the Corner’s webservers.”
Dear James S. Robbins,
Erudition is deep, extensive learning. It is not access to a thesaurus. To paraphrase Mark Twain, you opened it, you removed all doubt.
Sincerely,
J—, a humble pedant
Jesus rode a thesaurus, and that’s enough for me.
You fucking idiots, you don’t talk fancy by using fancy words. You talk fancy by using words outside their usual context, especially grammatical.
And ‘execrable’ is about as fancy as ‘pantloady’, although I can understand why they don’t use that one much.
Jesus rode a thesaurus, and that’s enough for me.
Bareback! That’s how he rolled.
This is (sorta) OT, but I thought I’d share:
http://kabukivillage.typepad.com/my_weblog/2008/11/ship-of-cools.html
Mark Steyn! Teh Dreamy!
my contribution, execrable
Indeed, sir, I am sure it was. Also, does “trenchant” also mean “causes trench brain”? Otherwise I’m not sure how it applies to most of what one reads at NRO.
Mark Steyn! Teh Dreamy!
Wasn’t that him on the cover of Tiger Beat?
“I must say I was impressed to see she made correct use of the word ‘myriad’ in her suicide note.”
Riiiggght … cuz that article in the NYT was about the lack of big words over at NRO.
Which proves just how stupid they are — they can’t even tell that a frickin’ newspaper article is saying that they are stupid and mean.
A Decline in Erudition?
I do not think that word means what he thinks it means…
He does have a point; when I read something from National Review, the word “execrable” does usually spring to mind.
That strange Kabuki girl, she took a picture of the towel-monkey, made for her by the cabin steward while she was out.
I just hope she tipped her cabin steward really, REALLY well; those guys work terrible hours for wages no American would accept, and they send most of it home to their families.
Yes opie…I tipped well.really really well…my mother raised me well.
Oh, dear, Lord. You made me go over there so I could try to make a funny.
But I can’t. The header is full of stooopid. “Liberal Fascism” on a tab! The Name of Frum! The goat of a thousand young!
I wuz struk dum.
Someone… pls… put some flowers… on Algernon’s grave…
But did they also make you a swan and a bunny from the towels?
“Mark Steyn…..sigh…..what can be said about that man that can truly do him justice? On the panels, he was the perfect mix of intellectual brilliance and wit…”
How can a human being type these words about the dull bore who’s mainly famous for writing a hefty screed about Europe being overrun by mud people?
The goal of any form of communication is to clearly, effectively and efficiently communicate. That is, successful communication occurs when you use language to effectively make the other parties involved clearly understand what you are trying to convey.
If you believe that the point of communication is not to communicate so much as to try to convince the other parties that you are not only a great deal smarter than they are, but you are a great deal smarter than than they thought YOU were, then you will never write or speak well, and you will always look like an egotistical prick…
mikey
Well said, Mikey.
But did they also make you a swan and a bunny from the towels?
I got a stingray.
If you believe that the point of communication is not to communicate so much as to try to convince the other parties that you are not only a great deal smarter than they are, but you are a great deal smarter than than they thought YOU were, then you will never write or speak well, and you will always look like an egotistical prick…
Mikey, you forget who their mentor was: William F. “Hermeneutics & The City” Buckley.
Oh sweet jeebus, via Sullivan, Corner numbnuts Jim Geharty has this to say about that ship of fools:
Do I vomit or laugh?
The white male is the Jew of liberal fascism.
I suppose one may have been a swan, it tilted…and an elephant….stingray? Don’t remember that….they kept the monkey up for a few days (hence some of the joke) but I failed to attend the special towel folding classes by the pool…
loneoak…sticks and stones and all that….
Kabuki Girl, a word of warning–this site exists to make fun of conservatives, just like your site lets you express how wonderful people like Jonah Goldberg are, your crush on Rumsfeld, and how much you wish liberals didn’t exist.
Many conservatives have told themselves that liberals don’t fight. We are not those imaginary liberals.
Found the track back, eh kabuki girl? Your sycophantic tripe was pretty pathetic. Needless to say, if you peruse S,N! you will find many sticks and stones and we don’t particularly care about either your feelings or your bones. You might as well not waste your time here, IMHO.
Lack of erudition? In the words of Sarah Palin, “You betcha!”.
I’m just happy that there is one more reason to associate James S. Robbins’ writing with shit.
Damn! Here I thought all this time it meant “Joe Lieberman.” Crap!
“Now listen, you queer, you stop calling me a crypto-Nazi or I’ll sock you in the goddamn face and you’ll stay plastered.”
This is why the out-of-context word thing works well. It’s not intrusive the way trying to jerk off a thesaurus on your audience’s face is, and the effect is a lot different – we’re used to there being a lot of big words we have no reason to memorize; adult language acquisition is pretty minimal on new vocabulary and much more strongly tilted towards building up the vocabulary we have.
That and acquiring words out of context requires actual skill. It’s a part of poetry in every language, and it is always subtly appreciated. It’s possible to go overboard, but there are a dozen dead inkhorn thesaurus boregasms for every living one, and people will still with a fair regularity use ‘congress’ to mean something it hasn’t normally in centuries – and that’s just one of the more common ones.
Plain language includes uncommon stuff plainly deduced from context. It’s mutually exclusive with what Robbins thinks he’s doing, and that makes him a Goddamn hack. That and the fact that, you know, he’s one of the Corner’s choad-dispensers.
It’s really not about words.
I wanted to get a pair of congress, but they were just too big, so I settled for a set of bongos instead.
islamofascist, the sound of Buckley’s voice makes me violent. I had no idea he had that profoundly snooty voice. He has to be the model for that James William Bottomtooth III character on Family Guy.
For a laugh, see kabuki girl’s entry on meeting S. Spruiell.
Kabuki Girl?
Never heard of her.
Is she cute?
mikey
It’s really not about words.
To quote the Love Song of the Wingnut Blogger, it’s all about me.
They wish to assume power over an entity they wish to humiliatingly minimize
They wish to speaken in order to weaken
The surly bonds of meaning
Yes yes yes
Oh I luv you oh I luv you my dear ole gramma
The Oxford English Dictionary does not have an ‘epicaricacy’
Is that word some kind of dirty rap slang or what?
Not in American Heritage or Merriam-Webster either. Is that egghead funning us slobs?
I found epicritic, maybe it is a derivative of epicritc, which I guess would mean NR is very very sensitive due to thin ennervated and innervated skin. That would fit. Some one help me here. I feel all dumb now.
epicritic
Main Entry: ep·i·crit·ic
Pronunciation: \?e-p?-?kri-tik\
Function: adjective
Etymology: Greek epikritikos determinative, from epikrinein to decide, from epi- + krinein to judge — more at certain
Date: 1905
: of, relating to, being, or mediating cutaneous sensory reception marked by accurate discrimination between small degrees of sensation
Rumsfeld I can understand. But Goldberg?
Seriously, now. He could be forgiven of being a momma’s boy if he actually did anything worth reading, he could be forgiven of being a half-wit if he had at least done well by the world in coming into his diminished scholarship. He could be readable if he were just a liar or acceptable – if dull – if he were just a party flack.
Here is a man who dances around the word ‘liberal’ like the worst kind of historiographic pedant without having that pedant’s understanding of what it actually entails; here is a man who earnestly seeks to screw with black people (and after all, racists have made great, if personally despicable, writers) but lacks one or perhaps just both of the lived experience or brutal honesty to admit that calling a largely black college “monkeys” was a vicious slur.
He has had so little to do and he has fucked it up at every turn. Unless you’ve really got a thing for goateed bloviators, he’s worthless – I don’t care whether you’re liberal, conservative, fascist, anarchist, Green, bolshevist, whatever. And I mean that in the most literal sense. He can barely be said to be worth the $60 or so his component materials would earn as scrap; he cheapens the English language just by using it, he damns the cause he seeks to praise, and his whole career has been one long, spectacularly impotent effort to indulge his absurdly childish personal whims; his strivings for greater significance and his preposterously-contrived nepotic standing are a cruel mockery at once of meritocracy and aristocracy. For no better reason than to provide verbal ammunition to people with just barely enough education to understand they are being dishonest, he decided to try and shit in the pool of the history of fascism (and trust me, right-wing takes on it are a dime a dozen even leaving aside the spectacularly asinine literary Kabbala about the NSDAP’s name) – and because he is a heroically ignorant dip-shit, he fucked it up so badly that it even embarassed the fuckwads who were banking desperately on him proving how fascist Hillary really was. They wanted no more than simple verbal gymnastics, something a child could do, and he fucked it up.
He’s a failed propagandist, let alone a historian; he’s ugly on the outside and uglier on the inside; and he owes everything to a woman a just society would barely give three squares. Why in God’s name would anyone anywhere on the political spectrum accept him as anything but a hilarious spectacle? For fuck’s sake, at least the Swift Boat cock-suckers didn’t include details of the Vietnam War lifted from a Turtledove book in which the south wins and General Custer spurts on an irishwoman’s stomach.
But other than that, alec, what do you think of Jonah?
(Kidding…good summary)
Epicaricacy is an extremely obscure word for schadenfreude derived from the Greek as a compound of epi (upon), chaira (joy), and kakon (evil). There isn’t enough evidence of its usage, at least that I could find, to classify it as an actual word in the English language.
I wanted to get a pair of congress, but they were just too big, so I settled for a set of bongos instead.
I got a pair of Congress All-Stars. The kids call ’em Chuck Taylors. I’m wearin’ ’em right now!
Cliff, thank you. I will use epicaricacy all the time from now on. It has ring to it. It sounds high toned and ecclesiastical in a high toned English way.
Totally OT, but CNN is reporting that the Begich campaign has issued a release claiming victory in Alaska. No details yet.
Further details re Begich beating Stevens available at Mudflats.
I still value schadenfreude for its nearly onomatopoeia characteristic. Happiness in the suffering of other just feels like schadenfreude. Epicaricacy feels sort of prissy.
That is true poetry. Of course, I thought it was a The-o-saurus.
Also, lest anyone think I am joking or something, that last clause describes a scene in How Few Remain, the opening book in the series whose version of Oswald Mosley Goldberg evidently preferred to write about. I wish I were joking, but I am not.
Also, Dave Niewert savaged the book from a much more expert position on fascism than I can pretend to. Here you will find the whole shameful sequence.
Liberal Fascism deserves to be the Grand Old Party’s headstone. There was once something respectable about it – even if any principles I could earnestly endorse started evaporating in the 1880s and had fully disappeared from the national party by the 1968 election, it was occasionally on the side of justice and certainly had something like an intellectual elite. Its last President, when a majority of his officers and strategists (rather than Rumsfeldoid suits more used to maximizing profits than the notoriously Pareto-optimization-averse business of actual warfare) expressed doubts in private – or, sometimes, public – about his insane scheme to topple the internally strong and externally pathetic dictator of a country on an ethnic and religious faultline (with the majority sharing a side of that faultline with one of our sworn goddamn enemies, to boot) on a shoestring, chose – instead of actually accepting their advice, to find pliable wingnuts to support the plan.
Eisenhower went against what seemed by all evidence to be fairly deep (and relatively malignant) personal instinct and principle to desegregate the schools when so ordered by the Courts. There were Doughy Pantloads his Department of Justice could have mainstreamed in response, there were J. Whatsamatta Yoos to construct a legal figleaf for unconstitutional oppression, but he fucking did the right thing.
Of course, we are hamstringed by the asinine convention dictating that a man or party may select its own tombstone. A shame, as – puerile though the cover may be – it would be at least somewhat more tasteful than ‘Republican Party of the United States – 1856-2008 – High Jack This Fags’.
In all seriousness, it’s one of those things that makes you wish for Clarke’s History Lesson to come true, if only to spare history the burden of understanding it. I would literally prefer me and my progeny and every grand work of culture I ever knew and loved being ground to dust under the relentless advance of a planet-covering glacier to that shit.
So if Martin pulls it out in GA, can I not feel quite as pissed off that they let Joe keep his Chair?
On a shamefully on-topic note, the original post suggests to me that the logical thing to photoshop Pam Atlas into, whenever we should next encounter her delightful prosody, would be a fez.
You know, what with the hated Mahometan dipping their hats in the blood of Christian babies to make them.
Way late, but…
Andrew McCarthy?
“Jesus rode a thesaurus, and that’s enough for me.”
Just tell me where to send the royalty checks, because that baby is gonna get some mileage outta me.
alec,
You don’t always get to pick your own stone.
Hmm, maybe I should provide context.
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Well, that clears it up, justme.
So if Martin pulls it out in GA, can I not feel quite as pissed off that they let Joe keep his Chair?
No. It makes no difference.
59, 60, 61…The pukes aren’t going to obstruct a Democratic president with that small a group.
This sucking up to Senator Palpatine is bullshit: We’re the exclusive club, the election’s over, so suck on it style bullshit.
~
Alec,
I’m shallow. I was even more disgusted to find out what Jonah looked like than I already was by his execrable op-ed pieces in the LA Times, which are thankfully much fewer in recent months.
Loneoak, I thought that was someone from S,N being clever with their name, not the Real KG… until she answered me the second time.
Fat, dumb, stupid, and with a trust fund…
That’s the way to go through life!
the asinine convention dictating that a man or party may select its own tombstone
I choose “He was a quiet neighbour — Never said much” for mine.
Don’t forget Goldberg’s wife is an Alaskan heiress. Her father made a fortune on liquor stores and shopping malls there.
Gosh, I sure hope that Mrs. Goldberg isn’t suffering from the Republican Recession like poor, poor Tom Friedman. It sure would be awful if Goldberg had to support himself by his wits.
I’m gobsmacked. I would have thought the “good provider” box would be the only one checked on a potential list.
But perhaps she wanted good, solid, Wingnut genes.
Since they tend to be recessive.
to support himself by his wits.
Selling pencils on a street corner, I suppose.
I certainly don’t wish to affect the high level of discourse with which The National Review has so rigorously adhered in it’s relentlessly partisan hate-mongering but I feel I must point out that Rich Lowry is the King of the Douchebags.
I posted this down below, but it’s too good to let it disappear into the ether:
How can you not love a woman who writes something like this? Describing Sarah Palin:
http://www.grasstopsusa.com/tt091808.html
The New York Times criticizing the erudition of the National Review is like the North Carolina State University Physics department criticizing the cold fusion experiments of the East Carolina State University Physics department.
It’s like there was this three legged dog. It ran around town on three legs, barking at everyone, and occasionally biting someone. Everybody in town hated the three legged dog, but it had been in town for decades, and nobody quite knew what to do about that angry, dangerous three legged dog.
One day, you’re crossing the street because they didn’t have your brand of dental floss at the dry goods store, so you’re gonna break down and go into the chinese store and see what they’ve got for floss. And you’re no more than halfway across the street when that goddam three legged dog takes it in his head to fuck with YOU. Well, hell, you’ve been in town long enough to know that this freakin dog is dangerous, and nobody will lift a finger to make it stop. So you break into a run, heading for the bus station just up the street. The dog, despite it’s physical handicap, tacks north to intercept. You run more desperately towards the bus station, knowing that no one in town is willing to stand up to the fucking three legged dog.
There! The door to the bus station. Safety!
Just then the 2:40 from Redding pulls into town, turning ponderously around the corner and flattening the three legged dog. Just like that, a decade’s reign of terror is over, in a small pile of distorted canine intestines.
Time stops. Everyone looks around, and breathes a sigh of relief, of peace.
Yeah.
It’s like that with Ted Stevens…
mikey
Thank you commie atheist. Truly astonishing and worth the read. I may undertake a metaphor count.
I’ve elected to go with ‘Yvette Nancy Akiyama – 1995-2066 – Devoted Wife And Mother’.
This is especially true if I somehow wind up famous. Every word on the stone must be a lie. There is precedent, of course.
I would, myself, go with King Shit of Fuck Mountain, but I was always a sucker for the classics.
http://www.grasstopsusa.com/tt091808.html
http://www.humanevents.com/article.php?id=20217
WHAT IS TARA TEDROW HIDING?
Infuse another little piece of my heart into yours,
Infuse another little bit of my heart now, darling…
I am in love with Tara Tedrow.
I could be wrong but I think she is calling Palin a sexist and effete bigoted hater of our military who provide and protect the military’s way of life. I am confuzzled.
North Side represent.
FYWP.
totally off topic. Puppy cam!
http://www.ustream.tv/videoplayerpopup/channel/317016
Dude, fuck John Cole.
He went from being a doctrinaire ditto-head to a lazily liberal just when it became clear that Bush conservativism was dying a horrible death. He never has anything insightful to write about, quotes better authors so much that he may as well be a link clearinghouse, and frequently ends posts with phrases such as, “…but what do I know.” Hey, here’s an idea; if you don’t know about a subject, don’t post about it.
He’s the perfect example of someone that shouldn’t blog. He’s just boring. If it weren’t for his two milktoast cobloggers to make him look better by comparison, Cole would be even more unbearable.
I know we’re supposed to be in “big tent” mode right now, and be welcoming to our new post-partisan compatriots, and I know we’re not discussing Cole right now, but really, his blog sucks.
[Palin] is the embodiment of every great Frank Capra movie
Particularly Arsenic and Old Lace.
If Palin ever offers you elderberry wine, take a pass.
WHAT IS TARA TEDROW HIDING?
She’s going to be the biggest kid in her kindergarten class in 2022.
Junior [slap!], senior [slap!], junior [slap!], senior [slap!], my sister [slap!], my daughter [slap!], my sister [slap!], my daughter [more slaps!]
She’s my sister AND my daughter and she’s a junior AND a senior!!!
Lego My Capitalism
by Tara Tedrow
I got your Lego capitals right here!
What a perfect description of George Will.
You know what they say about (stopped clocks|dogs’ asses) and (the time|the sun). If you’re in the business of chronometry or heliometry, using one or the other as a primary source is a terrible idea, but if the sun or Father Time happens to be doing something funny at the time. . .
Basically, what I’m saying here is that you shouldn’t be afraid to fist a dog now and again to tell the time when your cell-phone dies. Not if you have a watch, of course – that’d just make it worse.
WHAT IS TARA TEDROW HIDING?
That she’s not on the debate team?
The more I think of that a piece of our hearts infused into her own business, the more it reminds me of a M. R. James horror story.
Lesley, are those your puppies?
Oh snap!
I won a coupla debates in high school (T-Turna 4 lyfe) but I don’t, you know, use that as credentials.
Maybe I’ll get back into it in Portland, I dunno, but I still don’t see myself using it to secure wingnut sinecure anytime soon.
OT, but the story of Sammy Korir just gets weirder and weirder.
Ah, lovely. Here I was thinking that, being a fraudster (to be 100% fair, I think the 419 comparison is unfair, because 419 scammers are hard-working thieves and Korir is a long-con man with a lot of money, six figures worth’ of it from the Norwegian government), Korir was simply acting on mercantile impulses in seeking out the suckers with the biggest wallets. In the 90s it was apolitical feel-good education and health reform in Africa; in the aughties it’s been monomanic AIDS stuff and now it’s stopping Barack Obama.
Turns out – if this article is to be believed – he’s just a right-wing flack; the ‘asylum seekers’ bit is equivalent to someone boasting about working with the cops to stop the filthy illegals.
Still can’t say I’m sorry to see his newest slate of victims picked clean.
Here is an excellent rundown by someone who watches the man like a hawk, for those who haven’t seen it.
Chief Editor Korir, Norwegian secret agent.
This Michelle Obama tape will self destruct in five seconds.
Yes.
It looks like API was an email address gathering scam. Korir really is a genius. I was still hoping we would learn that API was a side project of S,N!, but I’m fine with this ending. I’d love to know how Korir so successfully predicted what the crazed dreams of fReichtards was going to be and how to exploit it. Makes me wonder what elaborate bait we could stay laying out for the next election cycle.
Wups. Note to self, check links.
The story of the tombstone in question.
It is a bit tough without preview. Preview, oh my darling preview, where are you?
Tara Tedrow, debate vixen.
FYI, those red eyes aren’t due to the photographic process. That’s how she looks in real life.
OK, I’m sure someone has posted this already — but for god’s sake — read this interview by Nate Silver from fivethirtyeight with John Ziegler, wingnut. It is the funniest thing I have ever read. It ends with Ziegler telling Silver to go fuck himself. Read it. Now.
I know we’re supposed to be in “big tent” mode right now, and be welcoming to our new post-partisan compatriots, and I know we’re not discussing Cole right now, but really, his blog sucks.
We’re always supposed to be in “big tent” mode, you fucking idiot. That’s how you win elections and stop being a powerless minority.
http://hasobamatakenawayourgunsyet.com/
A helpful site.
justme — he, he, he
Jumbo McManchowder felt the rage burning through him like cleansing fire as his sword hewed off the beturbanned heads. Gore fountained up from the necks of newly decapitated enemies, and Jumbo felt the exaltation of battle lift him out of himself.
People toss words around like salad – I tend not to trust myself over-much when it comes to them, so I just go with common usage. Don’t knock it if it works.
What Merriam-Webster’s has to say for “erudition”:
: extensive knowledge acquired chiefly from books : profound, recondite, or bookish learning
… so, based on anything I’ve ever seen on that website, either there’s some hidden parallel wingnuts-only super-duper-secret NRO that oozes with wit, style & pithy wisdom – or Robbins is so completely full of shit that an enema would make him vanish like a snowball in a blast-furnace.
I got your epicaricacy right here.
Good stuff, Djur. I’d love to quote bits of it here, but I think that would be a disservice to those who haven’t looked at it yet. That’s one of those texts best read in its entirety, from start to finish, to get the full effect.
I choose “He was a quiet neighbour — Never said much” for mine.
I’ve elected to go with ‘Yvette Nancy Akiyama – 1995-2066 – Devoted Wife And Mother’.
I would, myself, go with King Shit of Fuck Mountain, but I was always a sucker for the classics.
Roses are red
violets are blue
I am now dead
you will be, too.
Gosh Loneoak…so much for dialogue…monologue of alike opinions only? Okay, I’ll leave you to your sandbox toys and hang with folks who don’t mind opinions and lives that might be different from their own…you have every right to be an intellectual and political snob…indeed you do it so well it seems a shame to break your stride.
mikey @6:15: That was almost like an early Truman Capote short story. Excellent!
We’re always supposed to be in “big tent” mode, you fucking idiot.
Quote of the day.
That debate team page – it’s over a year old. FWIW. OTOH, advanced degrees (GWB MBA Harvard) don’t guarantee intelligence, so why should being on a debate team?
Imagine no liberals….its easy if you try….no hippies whining, above us only sky….
Kabuki Girl can dish it out but can’t take it. I guess she isn’t one of the folks who don’t mind opinions and lives that might be different from their own.
I, for one, welcome Kabuki Girl to “Sadly, No!”
This place has been in need of footstools for a while.
Boo hoo, poor Kabuki Girl. The mean, mean liberals – who, she informs us on her blog, are all jack-booted thugs who hate humanity because they can’t get laid – have meanly been mean to her.
What a bunch of meanies.
she informs us on her blog, are all jack-booted thugs who hate humanity because they can’t get laid
This is what is commonly known as “projection”.
Wasn’t it the NRA that called federal law-enforcement officers “jack-booted thugs,” which in turn compelled an outraged Geo. H. W. Bush to resign his membership?
Also, isn’t it a well-known and time-honoredly proven fact that it is conservatoids who can’t get laid, not free-spirited, tolerant, giving, life-loving liberals? And that that alone goes a long way toward explaining traditional conservative mean-spiritedness, spite, venom, gall, jealousy, hatred of everyone and everything, and general all-around loathesome attitudes? I thought so.
she informs us on her blog, are all jack-booted thugs who hate humanity because they can’t get laid
And yet we’re all libertine licentious hippies who want everyone to get stoned and allow gay marriages and abortions as birth control.
Go fig.
Geeze, everyone knows we atheist secular humanists have sex with whatever or whomever we want, whenever we want. It’s how we recruit the next generation, for Pete’s sake!
Geeze, everyone knows we atheist secular humanists have sex with whatever or whomever we want, whenever we want.
I’m having sex right now as I blog! With a doormat!
A throw rug and a copy machine.
A potted plant and a copy of Ulysses.
A Vectrex game monitor and a bedroom slipper.
Damn slut…
I’m no longer allowed in Best Buy.
Take that, conservatives.
A Victrola and the starboard dive plane of the USS Ethan Allen.
Aw, now I’m sorry I ever mentioned the towel monkey.
A Batarang and Two-Face’s lucky coin.
They don’t call you the Caped Crusader for nothing.
They don’t call you the Caped Cruiser for nothing
Fixed yer post.
A space heater and a five gallon bucket of drywall compound.
A space heater and a five gallon bucket of drywall compound
See, this is what happens when you’re a moderate: No one invites me to all the good parties.
Consider the erotic geometry of the toaster, gleaming like a chromium breast upon my kitchen counter, built only to be penetrated. When does humankind stop penetrating the toaster with bread and wake up to the new nightmare of erotic injury-toast? We see our toaster before us, rounded like the breast of a woman, and our hands are drawn to press down the plunger, to light the coils, and we watch in erotic agony as the coils turn red, then orange, glowing like the nightmare of toast and semen, and we must penetrate the toaster. The toast can no longer mediate our lust, and we must slide in one digit, then two, and the pain is an exquisite nightmare as our fingers slide past the chromium labia of the toaster’s top and into the red-hot slots of erotic agony. We smell our own flesh burning, fusing with the metal, and our orgasm is the orgasm of nightmares. The chromium geometry of the toaster melts our agony into humanity, and we know then that we must penetrate the toaster further, and we grasp the blinding pain of the searing slot with our hand and we bring the toaster down to our pubis. We must penetrate the chromium labia with our phallus, and so we do.
A potted plant
Does this mean that we can call Susan of Texas a stalker?
Ballard, you are SO uninvited to brunch.
I couldn’t remember Ballard’s exact words about the abstract geometry of doors and the corners of rooms as the pornography of the future, so I asked Teh Great Gazoogle, and his rant about toasters popped up instead (as it were). It was crying out to be shared with the rest of you.
I will make more coffee now, this time without misusing the various orifices of the coffee machine.
I need to go take a shower now.
“We must penetrate the chromium labia with our phallus, and so we do.”
OK, I’m handing in my Liberal card.
My personal erotic city limits sign is firmly planted (heh) short (heh) of plugged-in kitchen appliances.
That said, they don’t call it a “weed whacker” for nothin’.
My personal erotic city limits sign is firmly planted (heh) short (heh) of plugged-in kitchen appliances.
Y’know one day I was toying around with the, uhhhhhhhhhhh…
Food processor?
…yea, yea, and I had my weiner stuck all the way in and then I turned it on and….
You had it set on puree?
…….yea, and man it hurt!
I hate when that happens…
I just use a spatula when it gets stuck. So, is that, like, toaster gynecology now?
No. Too pissed-off looking, like the type that runs their waitress ragged, then tips 5%.
Tara Tedrow deserves her place in the slimelight.
That all seems very, very strange. I never craved a toaster or a color TV.
RB is so right.
So like T. Boone Pickens, I say drill, drill, drill on Sarah Palin.
Go for it, baby. Drill her!
A stencil kit and a XQJ-37 Pan-Sexual Roto-Plooker.
Oh, the really good parties involve 100 lbs of marbles, a six inch depth of lime jell-o and a motel room rented with a stolen card.
I never craved a toaster or a color TV.
Nevertheless, you should be wondering — before it is too late — whether your toaster or color TV craves you.
Oh, the really good parties involve 100 lbs of marbles, a six inch depth of lime jell-o and a motel room rented with a stolen card.
DAMMIT!
“commie atheist said,
November 19, 2008 at 6:07
I posted this down below, but it’s too good to let it disappear into the ether:
How can you not love a woman who writes something like this? Describing Sarah Palin:
An American woman who came onto the scene with a piece of our hearts infused into her own and knocked the Left’s glass houses down with their own rocks wrapped in a lipsticked smile.
http://www.grasstopsusa.com/tt091808.html”
By Satan’s scrotum, that’s what I call writing. Tara Tedrow is masterful:
“For it is not so much who Sarah Palin is, but what she is. She is the everyman and woman that built this great country. She is the embodiment of every great Frank Capra movie, the Mrs. Smith going to Washington, the average Jolin going up against the big city snobs, the K Sreet and Wall Street power brokers, the sexists and effete bigoted haters of our military who provide and protect their way of life. She might not have a $28,000 per seat fundraiser sponsored by Barbara Streisand, but she has won a priceless seat at the table of every average American’s table.”
Wow. Just, wow.
I don’t see why you all have to resort to inanimate objects when we are all but a short trip away from the many erotic beasts of wood and field.
You think history is gonna remember me for my bloggin’? Hell no: I’m gonna be the last man to fuck a spotted owl. Or in the last coupla digits, at least.