Kitty Kitty

Let’s have some Captioning Fun!!1! with this one…

L to R: Obama, Fox News-watching voters

A fax machine is just a waffle iron with a phone on it

I saw this commercial the other day…

…and I thought to myself, “Self, doesn’t that look awfully familiar?”

Muscular Monday Motivational

Greetings, excellent people. We’ve had a rough couple of weeks and some big losses, I know, but it’s Monday now. The good lord has seen fit to bless us with another week, another fresh chance to start anew and maybe push back the forces of totalitarianism that threaten to engulf our once-great-and-will-be-great-again nation. So strap on your rollerblades and go taunt some Occutards.

And now, hot chicks that can squat more than you weigh.

You want more, right? We got more.

I am tired of holding my nose while voting Republican

Why is there a not Romney candidate?

Bob Dole (R hold your nose) Loser, endorses Mitt.

John McLame (R hold your nose) Loser, endorses Mitt.

Wait! Mitt lost to McLame? Did he pick up any one in the draft? Has he been practicing?  Just how does he win? He is a loser endorsed by losers.

Why can he beat Obama? Things are different you say Obama is weak. He is a (R hold your nose) candidate. I am tired of holding my nose.  He Lost to McCain last time, we cannot afford to have him lose to Obama this time.

BBF – Crack Whore Barbie Edition

I would rather suck face with Nancy Pelosi’s underpants than revisit this week. On to the music, shall we? I wrote this song for DWS’s fist. Right after I forced her to donkey punch her nether region.

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This week’s model is a young beauty that originally hails from the Check (fuck you and your fancy spellin’) Republic. Now a Brit, she is in he twenties and can’t seem to keep from looking sick, confused, or high as flippin’ kite. Please welcome some deranged chick with big knockers.

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BBF

Afternoon, Tardasils™.  New year, new boobs. And I don’t mean the folks that have recently de lurked.  Please listen to this song I wrote for Mrs MJ. She punched me in the face, but it was her fault for brining up ‘running girl‘.

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Little is known of this week’s BBF model other than she hails from the land that created ejection seats for helicopters and put screen doors on their submarines.  Please welcome the 23 year old, Mia B!!!!!

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BBF – Hey, close that door, it’s kinda nippy out!

Happy Friday, H2ers! MJ is kinda tied up in an unknown basement with work, so I’m filling in this week. Since you are in a hurry to get to the poat, let’s have a sped up version of Excitable Boy, excitable Hostages:

Today’s featured lovely hails from Vancouver, British Columbia. I don’t know how many of her 22 years she has spent there, but I’m sure the residents appreciate the scenery. Our 5′ 4″ 117 lb. lady sure lights up a room when she walks in, doesn’t she? Let’s welcome Desiree-Elyda Villalobos!

Home is the Sailor, Home from the Sea

And the hunter, home from the hill.

We are gathered together to celebrate the life of MCPO, USN (retired, expired). Beloved husband and father.

He was born in the summer of 1879, exact date unknown because of the courthouse record fire of aught-seven, the seventh son and fourth daughter in his family.  He was a precocious child, doted on and spoiled by his loving sisters.  In high school he loved to play all sports but his first love was football, where as the team captain his senior year, he developed as a natural leader, encouraging his teammates with exhortations like “If ya ain’t cheatin, ya ain’t tryin”, and “who the fuck put my cup in the freezer?”

His fondest desire was to serve the country he loved in the Navy.  As a boy his grandfather thrilled him with tales of the sea, adventures, fantastic stories of bravery, victory, and triumph.

Let’s pause for a moment as MCPO’s nephew Bob Earl (or as his mom calls him, “Josh”), the third boy on his sister’s side of the family, renders this tribute.

Please be seated.

MCPO enlisted in 1909, just missing Teddy Roosevelt’s “Big Stick” World Tour. He served through two World Wars, Korea, Vietnam, Grenada, the Polyester Conflict, and the off-Broadway productions of Annie, The Lion King and Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolfe.  His military decorations include twelve Purple Hearts, various campaign medals, the Croix de Boix with “F” for Fabulous device, and the “White Pantaloon”.  Not many people knew he wrote poems, mostly about life in the Navy.  I have read a few that his family shared with me, and I was both entertained and very impressed with them.  My favorites were “You Say Potay-to, I Say I Slipped and Fell On It”, “There’s Nothing Like Scrubbing a Gun in the Morning Sun”, and “Mistakes from Subic Bay”.

In retirement, after a long and honorable service to the nation, MCPO found joy in spending time with his family, square dancing, political activism, and, the thing he loved most.  The game of golf.  He spent hours on the links refining his game, whether in sunshine and blue skies, or slightly inclement weather, which, sadly, brought us here today.

Mrs. MCPO, incidentally whose phone number and email address are printed in the back page of the Memorial Brochure you are all holding, confided to me that he was lucid to the very end, and at peace with the end of his struggle.  She asked me to share with each of you his final words, which were “Boy I sure hope there’s golf in heaven” and “Having a foot disease named after you isn’t as hot shit as I thought it was gonna be”.

Fair seas and fair winds Master Chief.   We’ll never forget you, a shining beacon that helped us avoid the rocks close to shore.

Quiet! Geniuses at Work!

Today, we encountered what is considered to be deep thinking on the economy by two leading lefty thinkers. First, paid Soros shill Matt Yglesias begged for shoplifting to help the economy like Hemlock helped Socrates’ retirement plan. Then, Nobel Prize winner and former Enron adviser Paul Krugman pined for a mega natural disaster to help us out of our doldrums in the same vein as Mothra fighting Godzilla stimulated Japan’s economy.

Well, as I stand in awe of the genius on display in front of me, all I can say is:

Bite Me

I’m getting ready to head out for a bit, here is the worst poat in history.

Also,

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[UPDATE: Rosetta]