This morning marked the first installment of my new segment on Pat & JT: The DC Blitz.

Taking the headline-grabbing snark of the Hollywood Blitz and reworking it for politics, including a peppy new intro theme assembled by Pat & JT's crack producer Tommy O set to the tune of Sweet's 1970's classic rocker "Ballroom Blitz." Those of you younger than I, and that's probably most, will recall that song better as one of the tunes performed by Tia Carrere's character and her band in Wayne's World. Arguably, the Sweet version is better.

(You can download the podcast of the show including the DC Blitz here. Look for the show from 8/30/07.)

Nonetheless, here's my notes from this morning's edition, in case you missed it. Please keep in mind that this is written in my on-air shorthand.

DC Blitz

Condi wants to see the quality Bling
Washington Post reporter Glenn Kessler has a book coming out about Condoleeza Rice that will have all the sheen of a Kitty Kelly tell-all. It includes a passage where Condi comes unglued on a jewelry counter rep who back-sassed her. Saying (basically) that the rep was poor and she was wealthy and she should be shown the “good” jewelry. Finally, something she’s competent at, berating minimum wage employees!

A Hot Car for a Hot Karl
According to politico.com, Karl Rove’s Jaguar was wrapped multiple times in industrial saran wrap, stuffed with eagles and someone put an “Obama 08” bumper sticker on the windshield. Who would perpetrate such a heinous act on the Turd Blossom’s car? Why his White House staffers who will miss his “puckish behavior” in meetings and, of course, his “eating of live human babies” to stay so completely diabolically evil.

In case you missed it...
ALLEGEDLY: Fidel Castro may or may not still be dead. His brother, Raul Castro, will most likely keep that vivacious revolution going... at least until he kicks as well. The rumors prompted the College Republicans at Harvard to suggest making Fidel Piñatas and a pitcher of Cuba Libres in a note that was sent around to the club, according to the National Examiner. Fortunately one club member came to his senses long enough to say: “I have a feeling that abusing effigies will not very effectively convey the kindlier, gentler, big-tent image that the Republican Club is trying to [create].” (And I thought neo-cons hated institutes of higher learning!?!)

He’s standing his ground with a “wide stance”
SCANDAL WATCH: When will Idaho Senator Larry Craig resign in light of his recent Minnesota airport bathroom under-stall booty call? Seeing as how he’s a guy who would normally probably love having guys pile on him, in this instance he’s probably not too into it since they’re only metaphorically piling on -- in demanding his resignation. GOP Rep. Pete Hoekstra, John McCain, and Norm Coleman so far have called for his resignation. Mitt Romney didn’t ask for it outright but did refer to Craig as “disgusting” which doesn’t bode well, and he has already withdrawn from four Senate Committees he was on. But hey, Alberto Gonzalez hung around until literally nobody in D.C. except of course the prez could stand him anymore, so Larry could be there for a while.

In related news... When Tucker Carlson was discussing the Larry Craig situation on his MSNBC show night-before-last he confessed to being attacked in a men’s room for some unsolicited man-love, but the advances were brutally rebuffed and Tucker returned with a friend 20 minutes later to beat the guy up. (Personally I don’t know why someone would assume a pie-faced youngster in a bow tie named Tucker would be gay... but nonetheless...). This admission caused quite an uproar in the blogger community. Apparently both of Tucker’s viewers were very upset.*

*This isn’t merely just a mean-spirited joke, Tucker is the least watched program in that time-slot. Seriously, more people watch the Ronco Electric Food Dehydrator infomercial re-run on PAX rather than him. He’s JUST THAT GOOD!

And that is more or less how it went out on the air.

So I offer a recap for those who think I might be leaning hard on GOP scandals of late.

Here's a list of just the most prominent GOP scandals of the last 11 months:

Sen. Larry Craig (R-ID) - Busted for soliciting anonymous gay bathroom sex. He has a wife and kids, btw.
Sen. David Vitter (R-LA) - On the D.C. Madam's call list. Likes to be in diapers. Has a wife and kids, btw.
Glenn Murphy Jr. - chairman of the Young Republican National Federation. Caught giving an unsolicited blowjob to a friend's passed out brother. Was busted for the same thing in the past.
Pastor Ted Haggard - Former leader of the Evangelical Church. You know the story: Meth, gay hookers, etc. He's totally cured now, thankfully. Wife and kids, of course.
Coy C. Privette - Christian Action League president and North Carolina Republican lawmaker. Busted at a motel with a sex worker.
Mark Foley - Dishonored congressman. Creepy lecherous fan of Instant Messaging. Was a Republican despite Fox News "mistakingly" reporting him as a Dem when the story broke.
Rep. Bob Allen - Offered $20 to GIVE a blow job to a black undercover cop. He claimed it wasn't because he was trolling for gay sex, it's because he was afraid of black people. And apparently it's common knowledge that the only way to disarm a black man is with a $20 and a very convincing blowjob. Ironically, the only universe where this statement is true is in the fantasy world of hardcore gay pornos.

That's JUST THE HIGHLIGHTS of the last 11 months of GOP debauchery.

Any scandal of size from the left in the last 11? Yeah, of course. Louisiana Dem. William Jefferson had the $90K of wrapped cash in his freezer, which definitely wasn't cool. I'm not saying the left is immune. Of course not. But the right certainly does wave the flag of family values and moral responsibility. Is this what they mean by that? Hypocrisy is truly the ruling elite's greatest luxury.

That's all for now kids.
Huzzah.

At Max Muscle (of course they have a myspace) picking up some delicious MaxPro Vanilla Protein powder yesterday I snagged a copy of their free in-store mag on my way out the door.

Not to read too far into it, but what does this image say to you?

Jay Cutler: On Top, or A Top? You be the judge.

I refuse to believe that they're not picking up on the imagery. It's not, how you say... "subtle."

Perhaps I'm out of line here. Maybe it's just me. I dunno. But for some reason I want to think about it over a fine cuban cigar and pop in the DVD of 300.

Huzzah.

There were plenty of big stories that went down this week. But if you want that you'll go to CNN, or if you're retarded you'll go to Fox News. Here's the stuff that stuck out to me:

Blogger and skeptic Connie Schmidt pulled back the curtain on The Secret, and subsequently got yelled at by a bunch of idiots who think that if they wish for things then magic will happen and they'll have those things. Were this true I'd be attaching a picture of my 12" thunderpenis. Note I have not attached said picture.

At the gym this week I caught a few minutes of S.O.B. (Socially Offensive Behavior), which is a show hosted by the marginally amusing D.L. Hughley that shows that white people are racist. No shit. The part I saw was hidden cameras at a job interview where people were confronted by a white-power racist asshole interviewer. Of course, most of the people went along with it and then were forced to explain themselves. Perhaps, S.O.B. producers, people are so desperate for a job that they'd be willing to put up with anything to get out of a bad situation. If any of them were trying to get out of a job with a former "voice of the Huskers" they'd probably be willing to put up with anything.

The N.S.A. would like you to know that if you dare question them, more innocent Americans will die. By principle alone, anyway. Ironically, if they relinquish their right to question it, they're not technically "Americans" anymore. Go fig.

N.B.C. is bringing back American Gladiators. Finally! I'll be able to amp up the ebay value of my autographed AG poster (no shit, pic forthcoming).

President Junior Doofus pissed off a bunch of people in Kansas City. Not for being a shitty president, they're over that already. Now they're pissed that he personally towed all their cars.

Gays love drugs. Way to reinforce a negative stereotype fellas!

Steve Jobs, the turtlenecked titan of industry, is being inducted into the California Museum for History, Women and the Arts along with a woman from the Electric Company, a serial monogamist/former actress and a guy who took pictures of trees. Finally, someone is recognizing Steve for the good things he's done.

I'm not fat, I have a virus. Whew.

The act went "horribly awry"? No shit! I would say that's an understatement.

Plastic "Designer Impostor" Dick Clark, Ryan Seacrest will be hosting the Emmys. I can't believe I rode past E! Networks building in Dave White's Mazda wonderwagon and we didn't lie in wait to run him down to save the future. But the LaBrea Tar Pits weren't going to look at themselves.

LaBrea Tar Pits: Where nobody's dreams come true.

That's what was up this week, kids. Oh, and they're tearing up the Ranch Bowl to build a Wal Mart, but you can read about that in the previous post. Take 'er easy. Huzzah.

For those of you that aren't my myspace friend, or you just don't read the bulletins, one has been going around the last couple days about how the Ranch Bowl, an icon on 72nd street since the first time mullets were cool (and arguably mullets were always in style at the 'bowl) is being finally demolished to make way for the Wal Mart Supercenter that should further fuck up the already dodgy traffic in that area.

This is sad on so many levels for so many reasons that I can't begin to list them. But the myspace bulletin asked people to recount their Ranch Bowl memories. Here was my entry:

Marv - I saw so many spectacular (and quite a few crappy) shows at the bowl, not to mention some heavy drinking and light bowling. Some highlight shows: Jonathan Richman, the Barenaked Ladies before they broke huge, Matthew Sweet (three times), Jellyfish, the Ogden Edsel reunion show, Timbuk 3 and above all an intimate evening of holiday music with Mojo Nixon. He was touring with the Toadliquors on the Horny Holidays world tour and it was the night of a huge ice storm in Omaha. Being an ardent fan I braved the sleet and ice and saw a genuine rock n' roll maniac have a full-scale rockabilly freak out with about 15 other people in attendance. It probably sucked for Mojo if he got a cut of the door, but it was a wonderful intimate performance for me and the rest of the audience that night. Ah... sweet, skanky Ranch Bowl, you will be missed. To commemorate it, I'm going to drop a cleveland steamer in the parking lot of the Wal Mart they're building in its place. Truly depressing.

Complete Lunatic: Mojo Nixon

And it's true. The Ranch Bowl was filthy and hot and crowded and loud, but I saw some of the defining bands of my generation there. And certainly some of the bands that helped me define myself with their music.

Here's the fucking Wal Mart that will be built.
I'll be able to tell future generations of rocking out in that parking lot when it was a bowling alley.

I'm not one to get all gooey and misty over stuff like this, but I will forever have a smoky, dirty, sticky void in my heart that will be in the shape of the Ranch Bowl.

Huzzah.

I was always fascinated with the "cult of personality" pop icons who languished at the periphery of fame in my formative years (AKA the 1980's). The John DeLoreans', the Bernard Goetz's and the like. This fascination was amplified by coming of age during the second renaissance of Saturday Night Live. The mid-to-late 80's saw the show come into its own again as a comedic juggernaut. Frequently these two indulgences, my pop-fascination and my SNL exuberance, would cross paths. As was the case when the ultra-dependable SNL cast member Nora Dunn (the female Phil Hartman, IMHO) would do her spot-on impersonation of the "Queen of Mean" Leona Helmsley.

Nora Dunn as Her Royal Meanness

Leona always seemed like a caricature to me, too audacious to be a real person. The former hotelier and real estate magnate turned ex con was a compelling figure for anyone whose net worth was less than a billion dollars to rally against. Nothing will turn the middle class against you faster than casually saying "only the little people pay taxes." She denied to the very end ever saying it, but it was a damning piece of character witness testimony. She was branded a tycoon by the media and a monster by her employees, allegedly humiliating her underlings on all levels, from the shoe-shine guy in the lobby up to her lackeys in the board room. She was the physical embodiment of the power-suit woman of the 80's. A compelling dichotomy, to some a devoted wife, philanthrope and shrewd businesswoman, to most a cold hard bitch.

She got busted for tax evasion in the late 80's and did hard time. You think Martha Stewart had it rough? Hardly, by comparison. Martha is wealthy, but she doesn't own the Empire State Building. It may be sympathy for the devil, but going from billionaire to the new fish in cell block H must have been a shock to the system.

Leona passed away today at the age of 87. Regardless of her circumstances, she was an icon of the 80's and a terrific comic vehicle for the under-appreciated Nora Dunn.

Sayonara, Leona. They say only the good die young. In your case... well...

You can read the whole story here.

Huzzah, kids.

Whew, thanks Exeter International!



(via Queerty)

I've made this commitment to lean down my fat ass, So I've been going to the gym twice a day during the week and only skipping the gym for either cardio or lifting on Wednesdays. Results have been lackluster, but I keep climbing that mountain. This has been going on since March. And with the exceptions of illness or pure unavailability I've made it happen.

But now it's Tuesday, it's time to go to the gym over lunch, but I didn't feel like it. So where did I go instead?

A big hat of deliciousness? You decide.

Yep. And so I ate a Big Montana of shame and some curly fries of self loathing. Now tonight I will have to self-flagellate like no tomorrow and eat a celery stick for dinner.

Arby's: You are not worth it.

(Huzzah)

UPDATE: But is working out really all it's cracked up to be?

On Headline News at the gym over lunch today, on the screen beneath the headline "Rove Resigns" read the subhead:
"Bush: We're still going to be friends."

The picture on the screen was a press conference with Rove standing behind Bush.

Oh good. They're still going to be friends. I'm so relieved...

Wait... who gives a shit?!?

Seriously, even if you're the most ardent "Bushie" out there, do you really care that he and Karl "Turd Blossom" Rove are still going to be friends? Really?

I just don't believe it. Seriously, folks. Is this news? What the hell?

(Huzzah)

Even though I made an impromptu trip to Tennessee to help my parents with my dad's surgery (please see previous posts), I did find a few minutes to break away on Saturday so I went to check out the much-ballyhooed Highway 66 Flea Market/Farmers Market. It wasn't what I was expecting at all. The farmers market consisted of a few tomatoes and some homemade beef jerky that a woman with no teeth was hawking like a carnival barker.

As far as the Flea portion of the market, it was nothing to crow about. When I think flea market I think antiques, bric-a-brac, funky old junk. What I found was more like a Nobbies/Oriental Trading Company cast-offs wholesale closeout outlet mall. Discontinued items, imported Chinese junk versions of name brand items, etc. I was taken aback by the insane volume of off-brand Crocs. (In case you're unaware, Crocs are those primary colored plastic shoes that fat, lazy and indigent people wear when they've stopped giving a shit about even trying to put a little effort into their look). Every time I see a friend or loved one in Crocs or imitation Crocs I die a little bit inside.

The battery was dying on my digital ELPH, so I just squeezed off shots when I was really impressed by the crap-itude. Enjoy.

Welcome in the Name of Jesus Christ.
Jesus! Come in already! I don't want to air condition the whole world!
Christ!


Check the back row: Jesus - Bitch - Jesus
They weren't able to make a hat with Jesus, Bitch Training
and the American Flag/Eagle all in one.
So I didn't buy.


This tasteful lamp was a mere $300. A bargain at twice the price.
I'm getting matching ones for the bedside.


Here's some spices at the flea market/food market.
This is sure to be something you'd hear from many distinctive dining rooms:
"Why Helen, this meat loaf is delicious, do I taste MSG?"
"You sure do, along with my secret meat loaf seasoning and Lemon Pepper."
"Well it's just delicious."


Put some Blood Balls in your mouth.
I didn't want to be too conspicuous, so I didn't take a picture of the whole rack.
But it was all seasonal foods from previous seasons.
Including some Disney's Cars-theme cereal from the initial film release.
And some Halloween frosting. It's almost in season again.

That's it. I'm back in Omaha soon. I will once again breathe air that isn't filled with the smells of pork rinds, redneck b.o. and skoal bandit!
Huzzah

Dad pulled through. He's all good. There's a hilarious piece of packing tape on his face, but besides that a full recovery is expected. The results of the biopsy won't be back until next week, but all indications are he's fine.

Please tell him that the scar adds character

However the A/C has failed at the house, so he's recovering in a post-anesthesia haze in the middle of a heat wave.

It's hot, it's humid and it's redneckular. Welcome to a Tennessee summer.

I did manage to break away and get in some gym time at the Sevier County Recreational Center. It's a gym only in the loosest of definitions. After finding the non-broken elliptical machine I got a decent sweat on. I was going to try and get in a chest workout, but the lack of enough benches, adequate weights and navigating a group of surprisingly scrawny-yet-toned rednecks deterred me from getting more than just a couple sets in before I gave up. The heat, the sweat and the locals.

I was thinking about this area on the drive back up the mountain. It's like there's this beautiful geographic area. Gorgeous mountains, rambling lazy streams that are postcard-beautiful. And then all these shitty lazy bumpkins happen upon it and decide to exploit it to an astonishing extent.

And they all smoke. All of them. Everyone here smokes. A lot. All the fucking time. Everywhere. Even while having dinner. It's amazing.

About 36 hours and I'm back to sanity with acceptably healthy parents and almost 6 hours left in the weekend.

Huzzah

Tom Petty was right when he said that the waiting is the hardest part. But he was also right when he said that he wont back down, he's gonna stand his ground. So I guess what I'm saying is Tom Petty wrote a bunch of songs. However most of them don't have anything to do with my situation right now except for the Waiting.

It's 8:00a.m. Tennessee time and I'm sitting in the waiting room with my mother. Apparently they don't have outpatient surgery as we know it in the civilized world, but rather a system they call "Day Surgery." So my dad is in day surgery where he was escorted by a male nurse who was tiny, hairy and gay, like a wishnik troll.

The expertly appointed day surgery wheelchairs, soon to be available in NASCAR themes

Since my flight was delayed getting in because of a bunch of adopted Guatemalan babies I didn't get to bed until a little after midnight local time. That normally wouldn't be a problem except my dad had to check in at the hospital at 6:00a.m. And it takes 90 minutes to get from the house to the hospital, so you do the math. A day on airplanes, 3 hours of fitful sleep, a two-minute cold shower and now I'm surrounded by a bunch of other day surgery hangers-on. The difference between me and them is that I took the time to shower.

This yokel was part of some human interest story on the local morning newscast.
Thankfully I couldn't understand a fucking word he said.

The only things that have made it worthwhile for me so far would be the check in nurse, a dwarf with thick southern drawl who appeared to me like a character from a play written by David Lynch and Tennessee Williams, and the douchenozzle sitting across from me who opened up his ThinkPad and looked at my MacBook Pro and visibly scoffed. Go ahead and give me guff, StinkPad user, I know that you're just jealous.

Now I'm watching Gene Shalit and Sesame Street's Elmo interact on the Today show. This is why I'm watching less and less TV. Somebody please come knock me unconscious.

With luck I'll find a wifi hot spot soon so I can upload these posts. Amazingly they don't have it here in the waiting room.

Huzzah, kids.

How long was I in Tennessee before I heard some flat out overt racism?

Trick question, because I was listening to it ALL THE WAY from the departure gate in Atlanta until I finally got off the plane in Knoxville.

The row behind me on the plane was having an insanely loud and drawl-filled conversation that I only heard in fits and starts in between songs on my pod and the sounds of takeoff and the "how to buckle your seat belt" movie.

Here's a sample:

[noise]

Redneck #1: ...Mexicans... should have to learn the language... bullshit... the forced me to take two spanish classes to graduate.... bullshit

Redneck #2: ...I know.... don't want to offend anyone anymore... supposedly "free" in America...

[more noise]

(and this is my favorite part - marv)

Redneck #1: ...and my granddaddy was in the Klan, and I'm proud of him... [noise] makes me nostalgic for it...

Redneck #2: ...at school they make me turn my dixie pride t-shirt inside out (this means a shirt with a confederate flag on it - marv), ...but them black fellers were allowed to wear their rap t-shirts.

At this point I turned my iPod up to brain-shatter to drown it out. Then the two rednecks went off to the bathroom together to jack off to pictures of Toby Keith.

Actually that last part didn't happen... on the flight. But I find it hard to believe that it didn't happen when they got home.

Jeezus, I hate this place. I feel like I'm trying to smuggle my parents out.

Surgery in 6 hours, so I'm going to take a nap.

Hugs & Huzzah

I don't want to make too big a stink about it, but my dad is sick. He should be totally fine, but they're operating on him tomorrow morning so I'm making a "last minute/drop everything/holy shit" trip down to that most-reviled of southern states, Tennessee, so I can be with my parents and try to be a better son than I have been for the last, oh... 31 years.

I'm gone today through Sunday morning.

Welcome to Tennessee! Now squeal like a pig!

In case you were unaware, there isn't so much an "internet" in Tennessee as there is a couple computers with a piece of string between them, so the likelihood of me being able to blog post from the road is pretty slim unless I happen upon a wireless hot spot. I'll do my best.

Nonetheless I'll be noting the Tennessee experience and taking lots of photos so you can see what a Branson-esque shithole that place is first hand.

Without having the time to emotionally prepare for the backwards Hee-Haw bullshit I'm about to put up with from every person I encounter that I'm not directly related to, I'm taking along the last of my vallium that I got for my back injury. That ought to take the edge off any chance racist, book-hating douchebag encounters.

I'll tell my mom you all said Hi. I'll tell my dad that you send wishes for a speedy recovery.

That's all, kiddies.
Huzzah.

Gridskipper ran its Top 8 of Los Angeles Hamburger Stands.

So far I have consumed 2 of the 8. In-n-Out, which tastes like everything that is good about California, and Irv's which I was escorted to by the literary world's favorite snarky daddy bear/death metal enthusiast/L.A.-transplant Dave White. Irv's was exactly everything a burger at a west coast burger stand should be: artery-clogging deliciousness on a hand-customized paper plate served beneath a swaying palm tree.

I've long fantasized about my "fast food tour of Southern California," (read more about it at my side project The Food Museum) where I partake of the goodies at Jack in the Box, Wienerschnizel, Del Taco and Shakey's Pizza all in one eating orgy/vacation. And do I even need to mention my Chicken and Waffles eating tour of L.A.? But I think that these dreams will now be put aside so that I may partake of the 6 remaining best burger stands of L.A.

Upon my next visit I must partake of Fatburger, Astro Burger, Cassell's, Big Tomy's, Hamburger Haven and Marty's.

Some people go on vacation to relax, I go to eat.

I think we can all imagine how this will end up for me. And if you found that hot... shame on you.

Huzzah, Kids.

In case you missed it, because why in the hell would you care, Tom Hanks (actor, average joe and owner of the PlayTone film production company), his wife Rita Wilson (actress, but better known as wife of affable nice guy Tom Hanks) and Nia Vardalos (actress, writer, greek girl) are suing Gold Circle Films for payment on a portion of the 6 bajillion dollars that the 90 minute over-stretched sitcom premise movie "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" raked in inexplicably at theaters nationwide.

Get the full story from the L.A. Times here.

Why is this a big deal? I'll tell you why. Brace yourself for Marv's 6-degrees of not-very-famousness.

You see, my former employer, Waitt Media, was a wholly owned subsidiary of Gold Circle Entertainment. Norm Waitt, brother of Ted Waitt who owns that shitty Gateway computer company, fancied (fancies?) himself a bit of a media mogul. So he had his record label (Gold Circle) and figured he would vertically integrate by buying radio stations. The first of these stations was KOTD-FM which played standards and show tunes (aka old people music) until I flipped the switch at 6am that fateful day in late October and turned it into KCTY-FM, The City. Omaha's failed experiment to try and prove that terrestrial radio was still relevant. (Spoiler alert: It isn't, no offense to my many radio pals.)

Nia Vardalos: Big, Full Figured, Greek.

Meanwhile Rita Wilson sees this one-woman off-broadway show by Nia Vardalos about being a thick-legged greek girl growing up with a criminally insane Windex-wielding father and an aunt who looked suspiciously like Perini Scleroso. Rita tells her husband and Bosom Buddy Tom that the show is a blast and should be made into a movie. Tom's PlayTone production company puts Big Fat Greek etc. into production. They run into a small burgeoning film company that hasn't done anything of note as of yet (Gold Circle, part of the Waitt Media empire) and it's off to the races. Made for a meager $5 million (chickenfeed by current movie standards) the movie grossed a 7000% profit. Not too shabby.

Now Hanks (who probably doesn't need the money) and Vardalos (who might) are suing Gold Circle for the nearly $90 million discrepancy in alleged reported receipts from the film. Don't these people have CPAs?

Don't get me wrong, I'm not delighting in the black eye this is giving Gold Circle. But you have to understand, being across the Waitt Media companies meant I had to play the radio ad for Big Fat Greek... about a dodecadillion times on the radio, to the point where I could recite it in my nightmares. Also, Norm sort of lost interest in his radio stations after he became a film mogul. So he left his underlings, who didn't know shit about radio, run the stations. Money was allegedly lost, bad feelings were allegedly had. And I lost my morning show, then Omaha lost the only radio station that played They Might Be Giants in regular rotation. Not that much of this matters, because effectively Norm and Gold Circle have divested themselves completely from the radio operation. They still technically own portions of it, but have entered into a draconian Limited Marketing Agreement with NRG Media that is the moral equivalent of an out-and-out sale only without all the messy FCC paperwork. The end.

So while I'm not doing the superiority dance, I am certainly not shedding any tears that Gold Circle will have to poop out a bunch of money either way. Either to settle the case or to pay up fighting it in court with high priced lawyers, like the one Tom Hanks played in Philadelphia. Only probably alive, like he was at the beginning of the movie.

That is all for now.

Oh.. new BOTM on my next update. Since it's August and all, time for a new Band o' the Month.

Huzzah and Hugs, kids.

In the last few days I've had all kinds of blog post ideas, but nothing that ended up being worth posting. So instead I'm going to count down the incomplete ideas from most to least recent. Enjoy, or don't. Who cares?

1) Mitt Romney throws a huff on tape on a talk radio appearance File under: Politics
CNN tried to make a little hay out of this fairly benign exchange between Republican Presidential candidate and polygamy enthusiast Mitt Romney and some nobody talk radio host in Iowa. Apparently the concept of the radio host was to ambush him with a surprise attack of "You're Mormon!" But with a little reflection one may note that... um, who gives a shit? Mitt is going to run out of cash for his self-funded campaign long before the primary. So why waste a bunch of energy on it?

2) What's That Sound? Marv's Current Playlist File Under: Music
I was just going to use the space to promote the Chromeo album "Fancy Footwork." It's a rad adventure into synth-funk with just a pinch of retro tastiness. It's about all I've been listening to lately (when I'm not just on Shuffle). Particularly since streaming audio at work has been taken away. Boo!

3) Moobs are gross File under: Comedy?
Sorry if you've eaten recently. Because you're about to barf. (No offense to the youngster pictured)

Once your nipples are bigger than saucers, and you're not a lady, please go see a doctor. Please.

4) Minnesota is for the kids File under: Comedy?
Big ups to the good folks in Lincoln County, Minnesota. The Weisenheimers played there last Friday in Tyler, MN. Always a blast to road trip and feel the love from an appreciative audience, even in the 4-H barn. As usual, thanks to all involved. I'll be putting up some pics on the Weisenblog. The only upsetting part were all the young kids and their pregnant... girlfriends? wives? whaaa? They looked like they were about 14 years old! Eek!

5) Hot or Not? File under: Sex
I know once bitten, twice shy, but here's another pic. I can't decide if this is the hottest or least hottest thing I've ever seen. My mind is having a hard time processing it. I forgot where I grabbed it, I've been storing it for a while. I think he might be a luchador or an employee at an insane theme restaurant. Enjoy.

Ay caramba!

Okay, that's all for now. Next time a fully formed thought or two. I promise, kiddies.

Huzzah.

Here's a story of import to my fellow Nebraskans:

In case you missed it, hair-helmet spokesmodel and affable doof Rep. Lee Terry (R-NE) got into a bit of a kerfuffle with Rep. Jesse Jackson Jr. (D-IL) after Jesse stated that (according to the Congressional Quarterly) "republicans can't be trusted." Despite this being a mostly-true*, if slightly broad, statement, Rep. Terry retorted with the perpetually-clever "Shut up!" And that touched off a bit of a tiff 'twixt the two.

Evidently, kung fu master Jackson (no, not a joke) started slinging profanities, which is frankly a common response to anything Terry says, although usually with incredulity rather than anger. Then "Action" Jackson asked Terry to "step outside."

But there was no need to search through your kitchen drawer for your whoop-ass can opener, as a third unnamed lawmaker separated the two and forced them to sit in opposite corners and think about how sorry they were for what they did. Or something like that.

Classy as always. Now can we go back to making some laws fellas? Also, Lee, remember when you promised on the radio to limit yourself to 3 terms and were a staunch term-limit supporter? I do, because I was there. Wikipedia remembers as well. How's that fifth term going? Maybe YOU should do the shutting up.

This is Lee Terry with a list of all the things he opposes. Particularly "Printable Versions" of things. He hates those the most.
And what's with the "stylish rogue" 'do?

*When I say that republicans can't be trusted I just mean current administration republicans can't be trusted with stuff like legislation, upholding civil liberties, protecting our children, safeguarding the constitution, building a legitimate pretext for war or not covering up the violent execution of a studly young football star who fought in your stupid war even though he didn't believe in it. Aside from those things, republicans are very trustworthy. No offense.

Full story courtesy of Leavenworth Street via Wonkette