Paul Ryan, Set This Straight!

Oh Paul... Say it ain't so! Please Paul your credibility is at stake big time. If you lied so blatantly as the Detroit News would have us believe about the GM plant, well, is that stuff about your Mom and kids and wife and Janesville all for real. Are you for real?

Yeah, ok, your tie was weak. So pale, it blended in with your nice shirt. Is that stuff from Costco, by the way? The widow's peak looked great with your toned down, yet quite nice, tonsorial look. Ann R made it hard for anyone to "hit it out of the park" again, but you were good overall. Yea, the close was rushed and the beginning of your speech was froggy-tense, but your cadence in the middle was on the money.

Oh, gotta give props to Condi. Man, she is a hitter for you and Mitt-o. You need to engage her more, especially since she has antidotal Obama power. Smart, articulate, foreign policy savvy and of color... yabba-dabba. Plus, she looked healthy and telegenic. Offer her a deal she can't refuse. But back to you, Paul.

No doubt, you are the brains of your team. PObama has Joe and you, well, have Romney. Mitt is way more hair potent than the weak plugged Biden, so the Reds win big there. Both of them, however, talk loose. Forget them, it's you against PObama, brain wise. Do not underestimate your adversary. He can talk as well as you, maybe better. With this in mind, yap facts need to be veramente! Getting caught in bold faced lies, well, enough said.

When you spun the Janesville WI tale last night, you tugged heart strings. My, listeners felt the pain of your high school buddies losing their jobs at the GM plant closure. You made us think that Barack had promised that the plant would be kept open for another hundred years. But it was locked up, dead, within a year of Barack's bold, but hollow, promises. Of course, you underscored it was a failure of Barack's economic policies, which led to the shut down.

Damn, you were good... Then this pablum from the Detroit News from August 16 re-entered the net. Trouble is that you re-told that same story last night!

Washington - Republican vice presidential candidate Paul Ryan inaccurately said Thursday that President Barack Obama "broke his promise" by failing to keep a General Motors plant open that closed in 2008 - before the Democrat took office.

Ryan, the House Budget committee chairman, recounted the decision by GM to shutter the Janesville Assembly plant in his hometown in June 2008. The last SUV rolled off the line in December 2008.

"I remember President Obama visiting it when he was first running, saying he'll keep that plant open," Ryan said at a campaign stop in Ohio Thursday, recounting the fact that his high school friends worked at the GM assembly plant. "One more broken promise. We used to build Tahoes and Suburbans. One of the reasons that plant got shut down was $4 gasoline. You see, this costs jobs. The president's terrible energy policies are costing us jobs."

In fact, Obama made no such promise and the plant halted production in December 2008, when President George W. Bush was in office.
GM cited the low demand for SUVs and high gas prices during the Bush administration as the reason for closing the plant, but Obama hadn't taken office.
Obama did speak at the plant in February 2008, and suggested that a government partnership with automakers could keep the plant open, but made no promises as Ryan suggested.
"I believe if our government is there to support you, and give you the assistance you need to re-tool and make this transition, that this plant will be here for another hundred years," Obama said.

From The Detroit News: http://www.detroitnews.com/article/20120816/AUTO0103/208160480#ixzz251H0x6ay


 Tells us that David Shepardson is wrong, that he mis-reported, that he got his facts Palined, tell us... tell us please! This is so disheartening, cuz, if you messed this up... if you lied... your credibility is gone. Set this straight!

Oh well, the political process is painful and nasty. Like lawyering. Hey, you're a lawyer and so is PObama and Biden. Mitt is Ann Romney. But lying crosses the line, even for lawyers. Stretching, massaging and blending the truth is fine, but a line is a line. Paul, set us straight... Paul, go talk to Ann.

Ciao

Plane Bored

Plane boredom

yea, ever have it?

Drone, drone, drone

go the engines.

Running out of Isaac,

lapdog of a storm.. mebe a 'cane,

over hyped, unless

ur NOLA, NOLA!!! bound!

Oh, fo' sure.. mebe..

Crescent City gonna

take the hit,

nethin' vs. Katrina, though... mebe

Look at the moon...

white on green, 

cheese, nah

that's yellow, but...

eggs are green,

and so is money

and so are sumbody's

eyes... u-body?

Bein' plane bored

leaves lots of time

to think and to reflect,

yea... ooh...

Cuz when ya' look out...

it's clear there is

a lot more than

Uuuuuu, me, NOLA, Isaac and green!

Ciao

Isaac Eats NOLA

Just landed in New Orleans LA. Damn... Looks like it's gonna be a dark and stormy night. Not possible to get hit again, eh NOLA? Folks from the Big Easy and Jindal was laughin' it up when the 'Pubs held back their Tampa gig for a day. Bobby said he might be Isaac delayed... he will be! He could do a fat Jersey boy Christie and leave the State with an impending weather popper. Nah, Jindal is skinny... He cares...

Gonna go down to the Olde City, find a house and check in. I hear for a grand, the Madam will put you up in style. Gonna get a honey I can toss around, slim, er, real slim. Wind, rain and a surge - dunno care. Brought five large, so good to go...

Oh yeah, la famiglia thinks I went to Dubuque to sell farm widgets. Hey, don'na tell 'em. Lucky 4 me no one reads this shit. Hey maybe I'll post a pic, ya' kno of la festa, like... Mebe ain't no Harry the Prince, but some people call me Dick...

by Tom

Ciao

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Isaac Emergents Florida

 

 

Shut 'er down... yea, that's the ring out here in Florida. Shut 'er down! The entire state is under emergency. Yikes, Isaac is big. Right now it is barreling towards the Keys. The drainage highway is jammed with the usual cast of characters, heading for the mainland. Of course, a like number of salties remain in their shelter spots to tough it out in places named Pine and Deer. The stories will become legend...

Wind, rain and storm surges are the stuff of hurricanes. Floridians are proud of their 'canes. Ha, they even named their vaunted football team so. Yet, of interest, is the fact that they are as weenie as New Jersey people when it comes to the weather. Gubernator Scott, he of the HCA dollar drench, is as frema as big lot Christie. Remember it was foul mouth, Chris, who shut down Jersey for a storm named Irene. Ascared... over nethin'... indeed!

 

Looking at the projected path of the soon hoped to be a hurricane Isaac, the weather center will move around the peninsula without touching down. Hmmm, other than the Keys, no landfall in FL (the panhandle is part of Alabama.) More likely the bullseye will be Alabama or Mississippi or perhaps, Guam. But jittery Scott is out of the GOP conclave in Tampa and Ann Romney is out of public blather till Tuesday and ... Tuesday...

By then Isaac will be eating grits and scoring high on standardized testing, while being nicely situated with a full benefits employment package in some southern state. By then Ann will tell the delayed by a day GOP convention in Tampa why she and Mitt-a-mundo need not disclose their tax dirt. By then, Paul Ryan will be buff-er and be talking about his plans for Medicare starting in 2020. Abortion will be the poison ivy word of the week. Akin??? Achoo!

 

America was not always so intimidate-able. For sure nine-eleven changed the country beyond any possible predictions. There is no way the people, who orchestrated the plane scrum, could have ever thought that the USA would remain eleven years later a shaken, neurotic shell of what it once was... Akin (he-he) to all of the identification fear-downs, liability diarrhea and over worriment of everything, shutting down states for weather possibilities is terrorism defined, second declension.

Back to the convention... The GOP should win the Presidency without even trying. Running on Obama's record will win the day. Barack doesn't have a chance.

• 43 left him a bankrupt country
• BO did a decent job with 43's slobber, but that was akin to fixing the plumbing in a leaky house, no one notices those repairs on resale
• BO is indecisive, too chatty, too willing to negotiate and too gentle
• unemployment is read out at 8.2%, it's really more like 13%
• real estate remains weak, the real estate run-up made 43 look good while it lasted, but its crash has botoxed BO
• health care is horrible and convoluted, except for those with good jobs and the wealthy, most Americans get third world offerings
• A'stan war drags on..., Obama failed to stop it... what is he thinking?
• Debt is soaring with no end in site, say $16T...
• BO has no toothy energy policy (nor does Mittie) - big oil runs the USA, hmm forget energy then, money talks and cazzate walks
• Dem's youth/celebrity vote has been eroded... Ben Atflatte might show up in Tampa... it'll be windy... he'll wear a tight cap
• Obama is no longer a rock star, aw...
• Americans will vote in a candidate even if it hurts them in the long run - Mitt gets a break here in generating votes from the 99% of folks with whom he is not in sync

 

As it may turn out, Isaac will amount to nethin' much for real Florida. PObama has already turned out to be nethin'. As for Mitt-o and Widow Peak, well, if they don't blow a sure thing in unseating Mr. Cool, bets here in Clewiston say they will become elected nethins', too. Now sing America the Beautiful while puttin' up the storm shutters.

 

Ciao...

 

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Blue Velvet Faerie

Red lights are a time of reflection... for him. It was his way of self control. While for most drivers the red light stop was a source of chafe, not him. He had trained himself years ago to not allow that angst to eat him out merely because he had the lucklessness to get it red. Red!

So, in a way, red lights had become his friend. Sure, since he mostly drove solo suzuki, the quietude and solitude of the Alfa let him mind wander on red. In truth, much of the time he spent idling was spent on women and their parts. As he will tell anyone who would listen, nothing more dolce than a woman in bloom. Too bad, no one listens to anybody these days.

Last night Tory Black stopped over at the Yard. There the women all looked like they followed the same web fashion instructor. Yeah, their spiky heels, their peggy pants and their blousy belly button tops drove him nuts. The skinny girls were so hot. It was a good time for him since these days' fashion made the underweight the featured dish. Damn, he hated fatties.

A DJ with orange skin and slick ebony hair, who looked like he came from New Jersey, was a spinner of skill. Boom-boom-boom kept the crowd wide eyed and ready. Music indeed can reach the brain like hot shot heroin. Tory and most everybody there was boom-boom horny. After all, the crowd was still in the prime of their respective hormonal flushes. These same boom-booms would make sixty years olds wanna run into a rough surf with the intent to suicide.

This semaforo at A1A and Donald Ross is a killer. Two minutes, full up what with the green arrows here and there and the long drag times doubled by the train passes. Even the yellows were ponderous. On this windy, rainy morning Tory caught it right. A long train... where the heck was it going with its 83 cars. He counted! He counted and thought about the girl with the blue velvet bra... last night... last night...

Sitting there, out of the way in the an obtuse angled corner of the Yard, she seemed distracted as she talked with a few friends. He could hear the sound of her voice although he was a bar away. Impossible really, but he wanted to come to her. Magnetism is a funny physic.

Flash eyes, the kind that blink a millisecond of light as they beam at you... Tory had seen this once before when he was watching an old black and white film from 1944. The actress, Lauren Bacall, did that flash in a close up scene with Humphrey Bogart. There, in the obtuse corner, the girl with the blue velvet bra, flashed... at him!

Not that there was a perceptible light to any one but him. As soon as he saw it, he looked around. Not a flinch, the drone of the alcohol fueled scrubs alongside and in front of him was unaffected. Oddly, once he saw her blip, Tory couldn't hear. It reminded him of his friend Lance Pescadore, who always claimed he could not hear when he wore sunglasses. Ha!

Faeries are said to have light power. Unexplained, these ethereal creatures can harness the energy and power of the lumen and use it for their purposes. Faeries are delicate, sensitive and beautiful. Ummm, the corner girl was all of that and she tasted sweet (although Tory had no way to know that then.)

Of interest is the fact that after the light blip, the girl (let's call her Lauren because her name remains unknown) became brighter. Yea, Tory could see her as if she was in Kodachrome with a cross process. He knew about cross processing Kodachrome to get more vivid colors and hues. Right, he used a LOMO camera...

About the bra... she was wearing it under a white tank. Thing was, that once the flash-metamophasis occurred, the whites disappeared. Yea, imagine how Tory fidgeted about. A man lives for a moment like that. Small skinny girl tits in a blue velvet bra.... damn...eyes aflash...blonde (real) hair...damn...damn...

He wanted to move to the sound of her voice. His boots were concrete, yet he had words he wanted to say to her. Time suspended, as if spun off into space, a minute became an hour. Now sitting in his car, the thought that he had been mesmerized came to him. Did SHE have that kind of power? The FLASH, the FLASH... that was it. A hollow became his chest, his life an abyss.

Green... beep-beep-beep... reality. Car horns and impatient drivers are so off-putting for a man, who drives an Alfa Romeo. For a man, who has been touched by a faerie. For a man, who is going to spend the rest of his days looking for the light. For a man, who is going to taste the sweetness in due course. Only thing, he doesn't know that yet. She does!

Ciao

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Bird of Take 2 and Call Me...

 

 

Va bene, va bene... somedays a person needs a little color, a tad of geometry, some change-up to be a picker-upper. Here in the USA, like much of the world, things could be better. So, check out these birds of paradise or bird of paradises, take a deep breath and smile. A couple of fingers of Blue would be nice, too. Better than aspirine, ha, aspirine!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh, the Blue...

 

 

Ciao

 

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Empire State Stain of Shame

 

 

America is a violent place. There it is, the beginning and the end of this entry. It's the way it is here in the States. Shoot 'em up - bang, bang. About an hour ago a gunman shot maybe 10 and counting folks in front of the Emire State Building. At least 2 are dead. The shooter is reported dead as well. Details coming innnn...

 

Damn! In front of the Empire State Building... might as well be the Eiffel Tower or St. Peter's Basilica or the Hollywood sign. How degrading, to kill there of all places. There in New York City of all places. Right under Mayor Bloomberg's raised nose, of all places. And where were those cops?

Ah the law was there, around there, near there... but not THERE to stop the heinous crime before it unfolded. Donuts aside, the cops there and here and everywhere always seem to be late and short. But, they try, they try...

 

Another sad day entry for the USA, the gun toting capital of the world say for Somalia or some other god-forsaken lawless enclaves. The echo of "what if everybody in NYC was packing heat" comes up. Surely, just like it could have been in Aurora CO, the folks with the hardware could have brought the murderer down before he did toooo much damage.

Va bene, va bene, gonna skeedadle for now and catch up on the latest. Gonna go buy a gun tooooo. Hey here in Florida it easy to pack...

 

Ciao

 

Addendum August 25th

The shooter's name was Jeffery Johnson and his now dead target was was Steve Ercolino. Johnson had a beef with Ercolino about a job layoff...

So the final tally, 2 dead and 9 wounded. New York's finast ( 2 officers shooting, 9 and 7 pop-pops respectively) released 16 rounds, nine of which wounded innocent bystanders. Yikes on that one. If ever there was a plea for more donuts and fewer bullets... Police Commissioner Kelly said the innocents got hit by bullets ricocheting off of things like flower pots.

Gotta wonder just who the good guys and the bad guys were in this ugly scenario. Oh well, at least no one was killed by the "friendly fire." Is this an example of doing something, "My Way"?

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Rape is Rape

Todd Akin is now the darling of Dems far and wide. Yippee the Blues collectively yelled when Todd blubbered his truth. Indeed, he recognizes the power of women - to conceive or not. In short, he lines up with the camp that says when a lady doesn't want to conceive, she won't! No matter the biology of the sperm and of the egg. Todd...

Succinctly, Mr. Akin bloviated that a woman, "legitimately raped", can prevent a pregnancy from happening. Todd is citing dream work by Isaac Assimself. Professor Assimself is emeritis at Strayer U and delirious at Phoenix University. Photogenic... he is a great virtual teacher, what with his shock of white hair. Oh, Isaac the putterer is the one who discovered eruptase after years of research on pointed ears. Great scientific discoveries are often happenstance.

Eruptase is an enzyme, which prevents adhesion of the egg-sperm cell complex. There it is, that big egg lanced by a spermie, looking to hook on the wall of the uterus. It sends out ropey gangplanks with hooks that attach oh so efficiently to the engorged endometerium. Once attached, pregnancy accomplished, yea!

The molecule, eruptase, takes on a green iridescent hue when made in quantity. It is commercially derived from the uteri of electro-prodded, almost impregnated, beavers. Eruptase is never found when females are happy and wanting fulfillment. However, when things aren't legitimate in the nether world, a lady secretes eruptase by the literal liter to prevent an impregnation. Although he didn't enunciate it, hot Toddy must have been thinking about eruptase when he blathered like a cidrule.

The boys, Todd and Paul, don't care much for abortion. Well, maybe begrudgingly for the mother's life, but not much else. They worked together in Congrees to cobble together a limiting payment for a rape-abortion statute. Todd and Paul, perfect together...

Rape... hmmm. There is always a patina in every rape evoking (victim) tempting. Perhaps that was what T-man was talking about when using the word, "legitimate" (no tempting). Was that what T-bone meant? In a legitimate rape the female is guiltless of forcing the action? Is that when eruptase secretion kicks in? Eruptase and pregnancy avoidance are arguendo related to the legitimacy of the rape?

In all of the arguments against abortion, there is always an element of responsibility. Right-O Bunky. Scooby-doo... if you're going to fool around, then be ready to pay the price. Now there is some sound thinking. If anything, America lacks that - responsibility... and accountability and individual integrity. Oh, if only America was like it was in 1960.

So let's get this right...

• Akin, Ryan and Mitt Romney are all Republians
• All oppose abortion, but they vary on exception degree... life of mom, generic rape, legitimate rape, forcible rape, recreational rape, love gone bad rape, faux rape and rapeseed oil (ok, a joke to lighten it up)
• Akin believes in the work of Prof Assimself, to wit, eruptase
• Eruptase disallows pregnancy in legitimate rapes so that abortion for l-rape can be eliminated... the legitimates abort themselves, sore to speak
• the forcible rapes are another matter, no abortion for f-rapes? One wonders what happens to eruptase secretion in f-raped women, becasue if it is low these unfortunates can't avoid pregnancy
• Todd Akin has managed to piss nearly everyone off, since he has taken the abortion issue to the public in a way that might cost the Reds votes
• Most Republicans have asked or demanded that Congressman Akin stop running for the US Senate now, even Sarah Palin has chimed in!

President Obama couldn't be happier. The GOP ranks have been jostled and bloodied. Interesting that this mess is the first stain Mr. Ryan brings into the R-R presidential run. Mitt, who is a teflon-er, is not going to be tickled pink about the widow peaker's button up history with Todd. Right now, Mr. Romney is practicing smiling in a mirror while combing his hair. But he is not talking... (No worry, though, Mrs. is alway jawing about why she and Mitt will NOT release any more personal tax information.)

"Rape is rape!" so said Paul Ryan today. In fact, by the way he said it, it seems no distinctions are needed. L-rape, f-rape, r-rape, l-g-b rape, faux rape... yikes! Perhaps Paul is changing his tune... oh, heck he is a politician. Certamente!

Ciao

August 27, 2012

Tom Smith, running for a US Senate seat from the Keystone State, has jumped into the abortion fray by claiming a rape pregnancy is comparable to having a baby out of wedlock. Moreover, he is a staunch pro-lifer. To each his own...

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Happy Birthday, Peter

"Yeah, we turned into oldies." Josh Figs said so to no one in particular. Like so many loose leaf pages in a hurricane, whoosh, the years fly by until ineptitude settles in like an evil fog. Ah, but that is the way of life. Indeed! But some days are special.

Sitting there in the Division of Motor Vehicles  could make anybody feel sorry for himself. The flotsam and jetsam of life were there. Mostly blacks, Hispanics and poor whites. Somehow the well-offs missed this place. Maybe that was because the richies all bought new cars and the dealers did the dirty work of registration. Ha! The last new car Figs had was a 1988 Ford Mustang. That was 23 tears ago, back when he was 42. Back then he could get an erection on command.

Yeah, back then he fucked in that Mustang like a killer. A corner boy was he back then. Had two donnas on the hook and he wore them both out. Sho' he did 'em till they had lips twice the size of roast beefs. Yeah, back then his big cock was a jackhammer. Now though, after two prostate surgeries, that humdinger was a fleshy flapjack without spine or life. Fuck.

Sure he was sorry for the things he had done. The two kids he had, he never fathered other than making them. One wife and three live-ins all gone, like a puff of acrid smoke on a breezy March night. Whoosh... But those days were gone. Nowadays those memories did nothing but make him weepy or mad. A man, who can't fuck, is no man at all. Turned inside out, he sat there, waiting to hear "89". Yeah "89" was his number.

Not that taking title to a '00 Jeep Cherokee was any comeuppance, but a ride is a ride. 'Sides he got the Cherko for $400 from the widow, Abigail Stinson. She couldn't stand to look at her long dead Edgar's wheels any longer. 'Stang only has 34,987 on the clock... so there. She wanted Josh Figs to give her some lovin', but a flapjack ain't goin' in a dry pussy anytime soon. Tongue yea!

He had no regrets most days. Why would he? He did it as Frank sang, "His Way." But somehow that mattered little. As the end approaches, a good meal or a memorable lay from years back is NOT sustenance. No, no... there is no solace in old memories of repletion. Funny thing about that, things that are so pleasure intense at point A have no sticktuitiveness. Point B is out of the question. Forever is a word with protean definition. Sister Germaine used to say that stick-word - flashback!!

"89"... 

With fresh plates in hand, he walked the hot asphalt to the Jeep. He drove it there, although he had not yet registered it. Ha! He bogused the insurance. No, he had no insurance. Like he cared. Josh Figs would stem anybody interested in trying to milk him. A free man, he had nothing to lose. Maybe, he thought...

Either I'll get a platter at Geet's or I'll drive this bag of bolts off of the Walt Whitman. As if there was any difference. Sometimes when his blood sugar dipped, Figs got nutty. He chose the diner.

"Roast beef platter, hey slather on the gravy.. lot's of spuds. too."

Sitting there, to the left of him was Podres John. Wrinkled and crinkled John looked ten years older than Figs. He was actually a few years younger. Podres, who had a small - still working dick, worked with Figs back in the nineties when they day shifted sheet rock.

"Hey."

"Hey you, shit bag, how ya' doin'?

"Fucked out, can't fuck!"

"Yeah, well, my arthritis is killin' me."

"Hate to tell you this Pods, yeah, we turned into oldies."

"Fuck."

In silence, Josh (Peter) Figs ate his rubbery roast beef while the edentulous Podres John gummed an All American Burger. The pipe music was a rendition of Those Oldies but Goodies, by Little Caesar and the Romans. Oh yeah! Oh fuck!

Happy Birthday

buon compleanno