Monthly Archives: January 2008

>Dick Cheney Jokes and the Search for a New Candidate

>Once again I have mixed feelings about this race to the Whitehouse. What about the disenfranchised? We need a dark horse candidate. We need Leslie Alicia Cochran. For those of you who are not from Austin, Leslie is our resident homeless and celebrated transvestite. A few years back he ran for mayor and garnered almost three thousand votes. While Leslie may be a little off kilter he’s well spoken. I’ve spent some time with the man. For an entire summer I gave him a ride downtown from Bee Caves. He’s seems nice enough, although, even though I’ve spent hours with him, every time we meet he has no idea who I am. You know, like every other candidate.

We need a candidate that would add color to a debate stage. I was stoked when Stephen Colbert ran in South Carolina. For the first time in forever a pundit had a chance of controlling a delegate. Knowing Colbert, the Democratic Convention would of never been the same. Once again I have to mention the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. You can check it out at:

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-86918391775857487

Our job as citizens is to judge these candidates as people and decide for ourselves if they are worthy of our support. How can anyone judge these people? By their very nature, Presidential Candidates are practiced at not revealing anything personal, deep or real about themselves. I have noticed that one way to gauge their real personality is to watch their reactions when confronted with the silly or the humorous. Can they make a joke? Can they tell a good one?

It’s only thru the inane that candidates are forced to let their guard down. I’ve been saving a question for years. I haven’t had the chance to hit a Republican candidate with it yet. If someone uses this, please e-mail me back and let me know how it played out.

The question: “If Jesus Christ returned to earth tomorrow and ordered you, as your professed savior, to have sex with him, would you?”

You know the candidate would be worth supporting if he gave a detailed description of how he would sexually satisfy our lord. I mean, he has too, doesn’t he? If Jesus is your lord and savior, and he orders you to do something, how can you say no? I’ll tell you how. You can say no if you don’t have enough faith. And you can say no if you hate Jesus.
_________________

Dick Cheney Fun Facts: an addendum to Jon Stewart’s “You don’t know Dick.”

The first rule of Dick Cheney; you do not talk about Dick Cheney.

It is impossible to charge Dick Cheney with “obstruction of justice.” This is because Cheney cannot be in two places at the same time.

In the intelligence community, death is referred to as the “Dick Cheney Disease.”

Whenever Dick Cheney travels to France, they surrender.

Dick Cheney once played Russian Roulette with a fully loaded gun and won.

Dick Cheney sleeps with a pillow under his gun.

Dick Cheney was once in a knife fight, and the knife lost.

Dick Cheney can slam a revolving door.

Dick Cheney doesn’t play god. Playing is for children.

Dick Cheney can set ants on fire with a magnifying glass. At night.

In an act of great philanthropy, Dick Cheney made a generous donation to the American Cancer Society. He donated 6,000 dead bodies for scientific research.

Dick Cheney brushes his teeth with a mixture of iron shavings, industrial paint remover, and wood-grain alcohol.

Dick Cheney’s version of a “chocolate milkshake” is a raw porterhouse wrapped around ten Hershey bars, and doused in diesel fuel.

Dick Cheney doesn’t wear a watch, HE decides what time it is.

Dick Cheney can blow bubbles with beef jerky.

Dick Cheney once fought a grown male badger out of its den with only his teeth.

Dick Cheney starts everyday with a protein shake made from Carnation Instant Breakfast, one dozen eggs, half a pound of pure Colombian cocaine, and twenty ounces of rattlesnake venom. He injects it directly into his neck with a syringe. (This one may just be an urban legend, but to date the Vice President has never denied any of it.)

When Dick Cheney goes to eat Mexican, he orders a whole Mexican but only eats his soul.

Why did Dick Cheney cross the road? No one has ever dared question his motives.

Dick Cheney can jump-start a car using jumper cables attached to his nipples.

Dick Cheney’s body temperature is 98.6 degrees… Celsius.

Dick Cheney’s tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.

Dick Cheney lost his virginity before his dad did.

Dick Cheney doesn’t consider it sex if the woman lives.

Dick Cheney invented American flag pants.
_____________

My favorite jokes:
_____________

A man walked into his psychiatrist’s office with a concerned look.
“Doc, I’m worried. I’m having that dream again.”
“Which dream is that?”
“You know,” said the man, “the one where I’m into sadism, bestiality, and necrophilia. Should I be worried? Or am I just beating a dead horse?!”
___________

For some reason this joke sounds funnier if you imagine that Christopher Walken is telling it:
______________

A man walks into a doctor’s office. He says, “Doctor, I’m really worried about this dot I’ve developed in the middle of my forehead. It showed up last week and it hasn’t gone away.”
The doctor looks at his forehead and says, “I’ve only seen this in my medical books, but I am certain that this is what is happening. Within the next few months, you will sprout a full-sized penis from the middle of your forehead!”

“You mean to tell me that every day when I get out of bed and look in the mirror, I’m going to see a penis growing from my forehead?”

“Oh, goodness no, of course not,” said the doctor. “The balls will cover your eyes.”
_____________

Now, I think this last one is hysterical. What is wrong with me? Everyone I tell it to just rolls their eyes.
_____________

Three blind mice walked into a pub.
As they couldn’t observe their surroundings, it would be unfair to derive humor from this.

____________

Rudy Giuliani is to 9/11 as ___________ is to 9/11.
Answer: Reno.

_____________

Knock, knock Rudy. Who’s there?
9/11.
9/11 who?
You said you’d never forget.

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Dick Cheney Jokes and the Search for a New Candidate

Once again I have mixed feelings about this race to the Whitehouse. What about the disenfranchised? We need a dark horse candidate. We need Leslie Alicia Cochran. For those of you who are not from Austin, Leslie is our resident homeless and celebrated transvestite. A few years back he ran for mayor and garnered almost three thousand votes. While Leslie may be a little off kilter he’s well spoken. I’ve spent some time with the man. For an entire summer I gave him a ride downtown from Bee Caves. He’s seems nice enough, although, even though I’ve spent hours with him, every time we meet he has no idea who I am. You know, like every other candidate.

We need a candidate that would add color to a debate stage. I was stoked when Stephen Colbert ran in South Carolina. For the first time in forever a pundit had a chance of controlling a delegate. Knowing Colbert, the Democratic Convention would of never been the same. Once again I have to mention the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. You can check it out at:

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-86918391775857487

Our job as citizens is to judge these candidates as people and decide for ourselves if they are worthy of our support. How can anyone judge these people? By their very nature, Presidential Candidates are practiced at not revealing anything personal, deep or real about themselves. I have noticed that one way to gauge their real personality is to watch their reactions when confronted with the silly or the humorous. Can they make a joke? Can they tell a good one?

It’s only thru the inane that candidates are forced to let their guard down. I’ve been saving a question for years. I haven’t had the chance to hit a Republican candidate with it yet. If someone uses this, please e-mail me back and let me know how it played out.

The question: “If Jesus Christ returned to earth tomorrow and ordered you, as your professed savior, to have sex with him, would you?”

You know the candidate would be worth supporting if he gave a detailed description of how he would sexually satisfy our lord. I mean, he has too, doesn’t he? If Jesus is your lord and savior, and he orders you to do something, how can you say no? I’ll tell you how. You can say no if you don’t have enough faith. And you can say no if you hate Jesus.
_________________

Dick Cheney Fun Facts: an addendum to Jon Stewart’s “You don’t know Dick.”

The first rule of Dick Cheney; you do not talk about Dick Cheney.

It is impossible to charge Dick Cheney with “obstruction of justice.” This is because Cheney cannot be in two places at the same time.

In the intelligence community, death is referred to as the “Dick Cheney Disease.”

Whenever Dick Cheney travels to France, they surrender.

Dick Cheney once played Russian Roulette with a fully loaded gun and won.

Dick Cheney sleeps with a pillow under his gun.

Dick Cheney was once in a knife fight, and the knife lost.

Dick Cheney can slam a revolving door.

Dick Cheney doesn’t play god. Playing is for children.

Dick Cheney can set ants on fire with a magnifying glass. At night.

In an act of great philanthropy, Dick Cheney made a generous donation to the American Cancer Society. He donated 6,000 dead bodies for scientific research.

Dick Cheney brushes his teeth with a mixture of iron shavings, industrial paint remover, and wood-grain alcohol.

Dick Cheney’s version of a “chocolate milkshake” is a raw porterhouse wrapped around ten Hershey bars, and doused in diesel fuel.

Dick Cheney doesn’t wear a watch, HE decides what time it is.

Dick Cheney can blow bubbles with beef jerky.

Dick Cheney once fought a grown male badger out of its den with only his teeth.

Dick Cheney starts everyday with a protein shake made from Carnation Instant Breakfast, one dozen eggs, half a pound of pure Colombian cocaine, and twenty ounces of rattlesnake venom. He injects it directly into his neck with a syringe. (This one may just be an urban legend, but to date the Vice President has never denied any of it.)

When Dick Cheney goes to eat Mexican, he orders a whole Mexican but only eats his soul.

Why did Dick Cheney cross the road? No one has ever dared question his motives.

Dick Cheney can jump-start a car using jumper cables attached to his nipples.

Dick Cheney’s body temperature is 98.6 degrees… Celsius.

Dick Cheney’s tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.

Dick Cheney lost his virginity before his dad did.

Dick Cheney doesn’t consider it sex if the woman lives.

Dick Cheney invented American flag pants.
_____________

My favorite jokes:
_____________

A man walked into his psychiatrist’s office with a concerned look.
“Doc, I’m worried. I’m having that dream again.”
“Which dream is that?”
“You know,” said the man, “the one where I’m into sadism, bestiality, and necrophilia. Should I be worried? Or am I just beating a dead horse?!”
___________

For some reason this joke sounds funnier if you imagine that Christopher Walken is telling it:
______________

A man walks into a doctor’s office. He says, “Doctor, I’m really worried about this dot I’ve developed in the middle of my forehead. It showed up last week and it hasn’t gone away.”
The doctor looks at his forehead and says, “I’ve only seen this in my medical books, but I am certain that this is what is happening. Within the next few months, you will sprout a full-sized penis from the middle of your forehead!”

“You mean to tell me that every day when I get out of bed and look in the mirror, I’m going to see a penis growing from my forehead?”

“Oh, goodness no, of course not,” said the doctor. “The balls will cover your eyes.”
_____________

Now, I think this last one is hysterical. What is wrong with me? Everyone I tell it to just rolls their eyes.
_____________

Three blind mice walked into a pub.
As they couldn’t observe their surroundings, it would be unfair to derive humor from this.

____________

Rudy Giuliani is to 9/11 as ___________ is to 9/11.
Answer: Reno.

_____________

Knock, knock Rudy. Who’s there?
9/11.
9/11 who?
You said you’d never forget.

>Who is America?

>Watching the primaries I can’t help but ask the question, who or what is America? Listening to the candidates speeches I’m guessing they know their audience. Our candidates are playing to our lowest common denominator.

I guess that’s not too surprising. As a nation we’ve lost our identity. It’s not really anyone’s fault. We’ve just grown from 179 million in 1960 to 300 million today. We lose of sense of community when our cities reach a certain high density. That one degree of separation grows into two or three degrees. No one knows anyone else. (Except for Kevin Bacon.) In small towns everyone knows your business, but you can live virtually invisible in a big city now. You can be who you want to be. Is that loss of community what sends people to churches?

Ferocity of our differences leaves me like a deer in the headlights. It’s like watching newsreels from WWI. I don’t know what to think watching young men jump out from their perfectly safe trenches into a hail a bullets. What? Why? I can’t wrap my head around it, but there it is.

Can we define America by its desires?

For instance, if you head down to the San Fernando Valley in California, you’ll find a culture a bit different from the rest of the nation. It’s better know as “San Pornando Valley” or “Silicone Valley.” I recently watched a documentary called “The Girl Next Door.” It’s the story of Stacy Valentine – a porn star. It gives a frank depiction of her life – the camera follows her around on her daily routine. To her credit, she’s a hard worker. 9 to 5, all day, five days a week. She meets a scuzzy boyfriend and later in the documentary they break up. Her day job doesn’t seem unusual or otherwise affect her badly. It only gets odd during the AVN (Adult Video News) awards. Stacy has worked hard, very hard, all year and she’s nominated for an award in several categories. Unfortunately, the AVN committee hands out nominations like payback on some previous sexual favor and the judges have been horny. Stacy is only one out about twenty girls in every category.

Stacy gets all dressed up. She invites her parents to the award show. They couldn’t be happier for her. She loses in all categories, and has a nice little cry on her way home in the limo she has rented for the occasion. It broke my heart. Still, it was weird. I kept questioning my own emotions. How can I feel bad for a woman that lost the award for Best Double Anal Scene? What do I know? It could of been really sub par double anal sex. Maybe she flubbed a line. So why am I sad for her?

Evangelicals

The American Christian is a hard fish to catch, but if you’d like to get a real understanding of who they are look no further than Jesus Camp by Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady and Friends of God by Alexandra Pelosi. Wow. These movies scared the shit out me. The word ‘brainwashing’ filled my consciousness. What they do to these kids in Jesus Camp makes Gitmo detainees look like they grew up in a good neighborhood. Muslims don’t know brain-washing like we know brain-washing. We start screwing with their heads before they can talk.

It reaches a special level of sickness in Bible Camp as the ‘Christians’ teach the children to speak in tongues and flop around on the floor as they feel the glory of God’s love. Hallelujah!

Someone needs to get the butterfly net.

Beauty Pageants

Beauty Pageants are like the 8-track tapes of entertainment. (I still get pissed off about being forced to listen to two bad songs so I could listen to the one good song I liked.) I have more respect for the teenagers in Girls Gone Wild than the contestants. At least they were drunk and having a good time when they exposed themselves. Women in beauty pageants are in it for. . well, I’m not sure.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Miss Nevada. If Miss Nevada’s self esteem was water she would die of exposure in the deserts of her home state. But don’t turn the channel. Miss Nevada will be wowing the audience with her terrific trombone playing and then tell us her deep political thoughts regarding world peace.”

At what point does this become any kind of fun? Who watches this stuff?
I freak out when they have those beauty pageants for little girls. We’ve all seen them. They get these girls, sometimes as young as 7 (maybe younger) and dress them up as whores. To be precise, ‘whores’ is the wrong word. What they do is try to make pre-pubescent girls sexually attractive. Why? It’s mostly their moms that are pushing this nonsense. What happened to them that they want to do this to their little girl? When does it make sense?

America the dumb

Just south of Austin, near New Braunfels is the Snake Farm; a roadside attraction rivaled only by “The Thing!” I’m convinced its what happened to the extras from the movie Deliverance after principal photography. Snake Farm has a pretty mouth.

I was there about fifteen years ago and I can’t believe I haven’t gone back. The entrance was a carnival tent awning covering a small booth with no air conditioning. Sitting behind the register, covered in sweat, was a hugely obese man in a wife beaters shirt. Nothing like sweaty man boobs to signal the best in road side attractions. When I tell this story I almost never include the truth, because no one ever believes me. He was digging in his belly button with the end of a tooth brush.

I asked him, “How did the Snake Farm get started?” He got all defensive until I told him I was a screen writer.

That’s when his brother walked up, and they told me this story. I tried my best to remember it, but they were both talking at the same time. Here’s the bare bones of it:

“Well, me and my dad, Bob-Ray, use to just catch snakes to chuck at cars on I-35. Bob-Ray got tired of throwing ‘em at cars, and said we should throw ‘em all in that big pit out back. Bob-Ray is my dad. Not his dad, my dad. Then, Bob-Ray died, my uncle Bob-Ray, not his dad. He died after being bit up by them dag-gum snakes. So, I figured, hey, why don’t I just throw those darn snakes down that pit like Bob-Ray wanted. I was pretty pissed off at them snakes for killin’ Bob-Ray so for the next three years I threw all the snakes down that pit. So many people came by the house to see all those snakes, Jimmy, Bob-Ray’s other son, put up a sign. “See the Snake Farm. Ten cents.” Bob-Ray thought it’d be funny if we said we’s farmin’ the snakes. I didn’t see the harm.”

And there you have it. A legend is born. I’ve already written about the Minute Men in South Texas and my run in with a bunch of them in Eagle Pass. A crazier bunch of drunk fuckers you’ll never meet.

Are we fooling ourselves?

Is the overwhelming majority of Americans actually just those people on COPS and Jerry Springer? Is America the god-fearing sky pilots jabbering into heaven? Is America those godless sodomites in California that make a living through fornication? 56% of Americans believe in UFO’s. 22% believe in a 9/11 conspiracy and I’d rather party with the UFO guys than the Jesus freaks.

Watching the candidates, I think they know who they are playing to. They have correctly judged the American sheeple. In the end it doesn’t really matter. America is all of these things. The ballet continues, the band plays on, and Michael Jackson is building a fifty foot replica of himself in the desert around Las Vegas; complete with laser beams that shoot out of its eyes.

America is lasers shooting out of Michael Jackson’s eyes.

Who is America?

Watching the primaries I can’t help but ask the question, who or what is America? Listening to the candidates speeches I’m guessing they know their audience. Our candidates are playing to our lowest common denominator.

I guess that’s not too surprising. As a nation we’ve lost our identity. It’s not really anyone’s fault. We’ve just grown from 179 million in 1960 to 300 million today. We lose of sense of community when our cities reach a certain high density. That one degree of separation grows into two or three degrees. No one knows anyone else. (Except for Kevin Bacon.) In small towns everyone knows your business, but you can live virtually invisible in a big city now. You can be who you want to be. Is that loss of community what sends people to churches?

Ferocity of our differences leaves me like a deer in the headlights. It’s like watching newsreels from WWI. I don’t know what to think watching young men jump out from their perfectly safe trenches into a hail a bullets. What? Why? I can’t wrap my head around it, but there it is.

Can we define America by its desires?

For instance, if you head down to the San Fernando Valley in California, you’ll find a culture a bit different from the rest of the nation. It’s better know as “San Pornando Valley” or “Silicone Valley.” I recently watched a documentary called “The Girl Next Door.” It’s the story of Stacy Valentine – a porn star. It gives a frank depiction of her life – the camera follows her around on her daily routine. To her credit, she’s a hard worker. 9 to 5, all day, five days a week. She meets a scuzzy boyfriend and later in the documentary they break up. Her day job doesn’t seem unusual or otherwise affect her badly. It only gets odd during the AVN (Adult Video News) awards. Stacy has worked hard, very hard, all year and she’s nominated for an award in several categories. Unfortunately, the AVN committee hands out nominations like payback on some previous sexual favor and the judges have been horny. Stacy is only one out about twenty girls in every category.

Stacy gets all dressed up. She invites her parents to the award show. They couldn’t be happier for her. She loses in all categories, and has a nice little cry on her way home in the limo she has rented for the occasion. It broke my heart. Still, it was weird. I kept questioning my own emotions. How can I feel bad for a woman that lost the award for Best Double Anal Scene? What do I know? It could of been really sub par double anal sex. Maybe she flubbed a line. So why am I sad for her?

Evangelicals

The American Christian is a hard fish to catch, but if you’d like to get a real understanding of who they are look no further than Jesus Camp by Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady and Friends of God by Alexandra Pelosi. Wow. These movies scared the shit out me. The word ‘brainwashing’ filled my consciousness. What they do to these kids in Jesus Camp makes Gitmo detainees look like they grew up in a good neighborhood. Muslims don’t know brain-washing like we know brain-washing. We start screwing with their heads before they can talk.

It reaches a special level of sickness in Bible Camp as the ‘Christians’ teach the children to speak in tongues and flop around on the floor as they feel the glory of God’s love. Hallelujah!

Someone needs to get the butterfly net.

Beauty Pageants

Beauty Pageants are like the 8-track tapes of entertainment. (I still get pissed off about being forced to listen to two bad songs so I could listen to the one good song I liked.) I have more respect for the teenagers in Girls Gone Wild than the contestants. At least they were drunk and having a good time when they exposed themselves. Women in beauty pageants are in it for. . well, I’m not sure.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Miss Nevada. If Miss Nevada’s self esteem was water she would die of exposure in the deserts of her home state. But don’t turn the channel. Miss Nevada will be wowing the audience with her terrific trombone playing and then tell us her deep political thoughts regarding world peace.”

At what point does this become any kind of fun? Who watches this stuff?
I freak out when they have those beauty pageants for little girls. We’ve all seen them. They get these girls, sometimes as young as 7 (maybe younger) and dress them up as whores. To be precise, ‘whores’ is the wrong word. What they do is try to make pre-pubescent girls sexually attractive. Why? It’s mostly their moms that are pushing this nonsense. What happened to them that they want to do this to their little girl? When does it make sense?

America the dumb

Just south of Austin, near New Braunfels is the Snake Farm; a roadside attraction rivaled only by “The Thing!” I’m convinced its what happened to the extras from the movie Deliverance after principal photography. Snake Farm has a pretty mouth.

I was there about fifteen years ago and I can’t believe I haven’t gone back. The entrance was a carnival tent awning covering a small booth with no air conditioning. Sitting behind the register, covered in sweat, was a hugely obese man in a wife beaters shirt. Nothing like sweaty man boobs to signal the best in road side attractions. When I tell this story I almost never include the truth, because no one ever believes me. He was digging in his belly button with the end of a tooth brush.

I asked him, “How did the Snake Farm get started?” He got all defensive until I told him I was a screen writer.

That’s when his brother walked up, and they told me this story. I tried my best to remember it, but they were both talking at the same time. Here’s the bare bones of it:

“Well, me and my dad, Bob-Ray, use to just catch snakes to chuck at cars on I-35. Bob-Ray got tired of throwing ‘em at cars, and said we should throw ‘em all in that big pit out back. Bob-Ray is my dad. Not his dad, my dad. Then, Bob-Ray died, my uncle Bob-Ray, not his dad. He died after being bit up by them dag-gum snakes. So, I figured, hey, why don’t I just throw those darn snakes down that pit like Bob-Ray wanted. I was pretty pissed off at them snakes for killin’ Bob-Ray so for the next three years I threw all the snakes down that pit. So many people came by the house to see all those snakes, Jimmy, Bob-Ray’s other son, put up a sign. “See the Snake Farm. Ten cents.” Bob-Ray thought it’d be funny if we said we’s farmin’ the snakes. I didn’t see the harm.”

And there you have it. A legend is born. I’ve already written about the Minute Men in South Texas and my run in with a bunch of them in Eagle Pass. A crazier bunch of drunk fuckers you’ll never meet.

Are we fooling ourselves?

Is the overwhelming majority of Americans actually just those people on COPS and Jerry Springer? Is America the god-fearing sky pilots jabbering into heaven? Is America those godless sodomites in California that make a living through fornication? 56% of Americans believe in UFO’s. 22% believe in a 9/11 conspiracy and I’d rather party with the UFO guys than the Jesus freaks.

Watching the candidates, I think they know who they are playing to. They have correctly judged the American sheeple. In the end it doesn’t really matter. America is all of these things. The ballet continues, the band plays on, and Michael Jackson is building a fifty foot replica of himself in the desert around Las Vegas; complete with laser beams that shoot out of its eyes.

America is lasers shooting out of Michael Jackson’s eyes.

>Why I’m voting for Hillary

>I’m not voting for Hillary because of anything she has said. I’m not about change. I don’t have a new vision for America. What I have is a twisted fantasy I’ve been sitting on for ten years. I want to be the next Monica Lewinsky, but I’m not going to get there if Obama wins. My sexual ego would never need stroking again if I was the one who did the President. What makes my fantasy even better is that I’m not a good looking guy. I’m 6′ tall, and 280lbs. I maintain my girlish figure by sticking to the four food groups: “Candy, Candy canes, Candy Corn and Syrup.” And it isn’t a good illicit affair unless the guy she’s seeing is uglier than Monica.

“Mr. Korioth, you’ve broken up a marriage, you have publically humiliated the President, and now she may be impeached over this indiscretion; what do you say to the millions of Americans who consider you as the man who destroyed this country?”

“Yeah, my penis will do that.”

It would be like winning the ego lottery. But actually having sex with Hillary isn’t really part of my fantasy. The real fantasy begins when Bill and I throw down. Twenty minutes after she throws all his cloths into the rose garden, (lets not forget they are from Little Rock) Bill tells the secret service to stand down, and we go bare knuckles on white house lawn; broadcast live on CNN. Even though I don’t know any martial arts I win the fight, al la Lethal Weapon, with a roundhouse kick to his head. Hillary lets me in, and I am the new first man. That’s how I roll. It’s how its done in the big leagues. But, once again, that isn’t going to happen if Obama wins.

Well, I guess it could. But Michelle Obama would probably kick my ass, and I don’t think I’d win any ego points for having sex with Barack. Maybe a few.

Why I’m voting for Hillary

I’m not voting for Hillary because of anything she has said. I’m not about change. I don’t have a new vision for America. What I have is a twisted fantasy I’ve been sitting on for ten years. I want to be the next Monica Lewinsky, but I’m not going to get there if Obama wins. My sexual ego would never need stroking again if I was the one who did the President. What makes my fantasy even better is that I’m not a good looking guy. I’m 6′ tall, and 280lbs. I maintain my girlish figure by sticking to the four food groups: “Candy, Candy canes, Candy Corn and Syrup.” And it isn’t a good illicit affair unless the guy she’s seeing is uglier than Monica.

“Mr. Korioth, you’ve broken up a marriage, you have publically humiliated the President, and now she may be impeached over this indiscretion; what do you say to the millions of Americans who consider you as the man who destroyed this country?”

“Yeah, my penis will do that.”

It would be like winning the ego lottery. But actually having sex with Hillary isn’t really part of my fantasy. The real fantasy begins when Bill and I throw down. Twenty minutes after she throws all his cloths into the rose garden, (lets not forget they are from Little Rock) Bill tells the secret service to stand down, and we go bare knuckles on white house lawn; broadcast live on CNN. Even though I don’t know any martial arts I win the fight, al la Lethal Weapon, with a roundhouse kick to his head. Hillary lets me in, and I am the new first man. That’s how I roll. It’s how its done in the big leagues. But, once again, that isn’t going to happen if Obama wins.

Well, I guess it could. But Michelle Obama would probably kick my ass, and I don’t think I’d win any ego points for having sex with Barack. Maybe a few.

>My first try at writing a political speech

>

I currently count myself as just another out-of-work writer, but I think I’ve got a handle now on how to write political speeches. Uber-expensive polls rate important words that must be then implemented into political speeches. Not ideas or rhetoric, just the words. Without ever knowing exactly what these current money words are I can guess that one of them is, ‘change.’ (Not a hard guess.)

For Rudy Giuliani I can assume one of his power words is ‘nine-eleven.’ So, I thought I’d write a speech for Rudy. He needs the help. Most of the N.Y. fire fighters and N.Y. police hate his guts. So, here’s my attempt at political speech writing.. . .

Mr. Giuliani:

Good evening. Since the dark days of nine-eleven I’ve thought about little else but change. Change in the only way change can occur post nine-eleven. Change brought to you by nine-eleven. Change for change sake. And lets not forget, nine-eleven not only changed the way we do business; it has changed the very way we change change.

As I was thinking about change in those dark days of nine-twelve and nine-thirteen, I couldn’t help but think of the change needed because of nine-eleven. So I started calling “nine-twelve,” – “nine-eleven and change.” “Nine-thirteen” was “nine-eleven and more change.” By the time I got to nine-fourteen, it was “change plus nine-eleven,” which didn’t end there. Remember, change never ends, until you reach nine dollars and eleven cents. Only then is it nine-eleven without change.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Nine-eleven.

____________

I don’t want to give away too much. You’ll have to hear the rest at the Republican convention. Suffice to say, the rest of the speech has many more subtle references to 9-11 and change. Professional writers like myself are able to weave these terms, almost unperceptively, into the body of the speech. If you re-read it slowly, you’ll be able to see how I did it. I know, now you want to vote for Giuliani, but wait, there’s more. Send me some money and you can change nine-eleven yourself.

On another note, I got a kick out of this. . .

http://sg.news.yahoo.com/rtrs/20080110/tod-odd-brothel-dc-a929486.html

A polish man went to a brothel in Warsaw and found his wife working there. Don’t you just hate it when you find out your spouse is a whore? For some reason the guy was offended and now he’s getting a divorce.

Did he forget that he was going to a whore house? I’m just guessing, but wouldn’t he be able to get some kind of discount to have sex with his own wife? He should be happy. Nine-eleven.