The War: Jenna & Barbara Bush will not be part of their dad's troop surge. Ditto for any member of the Cheney clan.
The War: With polls showing support for the war in Iraq down to a paltry 11%, Democrats will decide it's almost safe to openly oppose it too.
The War: Iraqi Shiites, aligned with Iran, win the civil war. Iraq's Sunnis get to learn what it was like to be a Shiite when Sunnies ran Iraq. The Kurds go their own whey. (Sorry...)
Religion: Evangelical congregations will enact new rules requiring their ministers to wear GPS tracking devices when not within clear sight or in the pulpit.
Religion: The Pope will issue an encyclical ordering that, henceforth, altar boys must be at least 18-years of age.
Religion: Mel Gibson releases a new documentary entitled, “Jews: Can't live with them, can't have an apocalypse without them.”
New Arrivals: Lynn Cheney will claim that the grandchild born to the her lesbian daughter is only the second immaculate conception in human history.
Immigration: Real reform? Forget about it.
Known and very popular cialis coupon which gives all the chance to receive a discount for a preparation which has to be available and exactly cialis coupons has been found in the distant room of this big house about which wood-grouses in the houses tell.
Career Changes: Donald Rumsfeld, encouraged by the fawning chuckles from the Pentagon press corp over the years, launches a career in stand up, appearing at the Comedy Club filling the gap left by Michael Richards.
Genocide: The United Nations announces that it would love to help those being slaughtered in Sudan, but can't because it's like REALLY dangerous there right now. Besides, no one has figured out how to wring bribes out of dirt-poor Sudanese refugees.
Hillary Clinton: After John Edwards and Barak Obama defeat her in the primaries, Hillary blames “a vast, male-dominated, left-wing conspiracy and pens a new book entitled, “Testosterone: The Real WMD?”
Bill Clinton: It takes nearly a year for Bill to realize Hillary had divorced him. He finds out only after discovering the divorce papers stuffed under his living room sofa by his former National Security Advisor, Sandy Berger.
Donald Trump and Rosie O'Donnell: Are named defendants in a class action brought by “Everyone else.” The court orders The Donald and Rosie to, “Immediately, and without further delay, shut the f—k up,” and enjoins the pair from “speaking on radio or appearing on television for the rest of their unnatural lives.” Attorneys for plaintiff's announced the court's decision in a brief statement: “Ladies and gentlemen, our long national nightmare is finally over.”
Michael (AKA, Kramer) Richards: Discloses that DNA tests confirm he is a direct decedent of “Eve.” (the name given to the fossilized remains found in South Africa of the oldest recorded humanoid. “This means I am part n----- myself. I feel your pain, man.” Richards said, raising his fist in the traditional black power salute. “I always said I was a Hebe,” Richards added. “But I had no idea I was a member of the lost tribe – an African Hebe. ---- Hey guys -- don't tell Mel, okay?”
I'm convinced that not a single person on earth has ever, or will ever, actually keep a New Years resolution. New Years resolutions serve the same function as confession does for Catholics -- to confession – to cleanse our consciences and make ourselves feel that we really are the kind of persons we'd like to believe we are -- but of course are highly unlikely ever to become.
So this year I will pass on making any resolutions about how I will reform my reprobate ways in the coming year. Instead I want to catch up responding to emails I just discovered had been filtered to “Junk” by my ever-helpful email program:
To: Mr. Opupoo, Former Minister of The Bank of Nigeria.
Subject: $80 million urgent good help pleaze
Out of Office Reply. I will be out until January 5. I will respond to your message as soon as I get back.
FBI Special Agent Stefano Pizrato
To: Danial McMannus, Phd, DDS, DVM, OBGYM
Subject: Size matters
Thank you so much for your kind offer to help me with “my embarrassing problem.” But I don't suffer from any “embarrassing problems.”
First, at 61, I've reached a point in life where nothing embarrasses me any more. Also, I have ask, just why would “enhancing” the size of that particular part of me improve someone's life in the first place? Wouldn't it be better if you developed a drug that would increase the size of people's brains instead? After all, the world is over-populated, so the standard issue gear appears to be doing the job, and then some, and is in no need of further "enhancement." Instead what's clearly lacking is collective I.Q. When you come up with a pill that enhances human brains, give me a call, I'll be your first sales rep.
Subject: Reconnect with high school friends.
You're kidding, right? For anyone that grew up to become a normal, well-balanced adult, high school memories are the last thing we'd care to revisit. If Human Rights Watch ever studied what high school does to a kid's self esteem they would declare high schools a violation of the Geneva Convention -- which, among other things, clearly prohibits "degrading treatment and humiliation of captives."
There are, of course, a tiny minority of Americans for whom high school represented the social/emotional/self esteem high-water mark of their lives. You know, the lead cheerleaders, the football team quarterbacks, the prom queens and kings and, of course, the class whore. They were the “in-crowd,” during high school. But that was it for them. Within a week of graduation they tumbled right off a cliff into a pit of obscurity and quiet desperation.
I only attended one high school reunion, my 25th, and found this to be true. For four years, between 1960 and 1964, they were the most admired, the most feared, the most pursued members of the the student body. They were stars, surrounded by a constellation of sycophants and adoring fans. Twenty five years later they were fat, and/or bald, divorced, remarried, divorced again and stuck in jobs a lab monkey could perform just a well, maybe better.
So, classmates.com, why would I want to pay you to reconnect me with those people? They didn't like me back then, and I don't like them now. When I was in school with them they wouldn't give me the time of day. Now they just want to sit at my reunion table, name tag and all, blubbering over a glass cheap wine about how their ex-wife (husband, kids, parents, inlaws and/or the law) took them to the cleaners and ruined their life.
So, please take me off your email list, will ya? Every time I get one of your emails intrusive visions of jocks in varsity sweaters swagger through my mind.
To: Comcast Cable
Subject: Telephone Service Offer
Let me get this straight. You guys want to provide my telephone service now too? "Voice over Internet Protocol," – yes I am familiar with it. But why should I consider switching to Comcast for my phone service? I am already being over-charged by AT&T and Cingular. Why let you in on that money too?
Oh sure, I see your low teaser rate for phone service. But you guys always promise you'll save me money, but never have. You promised me big savings when I switched from Dish Network to Comcast cable and, for three months I did save money. Then the truth sunk in; your teaser rate was just the KY jelly to get me ready for the screwing you're administering to me now. Today my combined Comcast bill for the cable TV and Internet services has soared to $156.00 a month. And I just read you're fixing to nail me with another rate increase.
So, no way Jose on your VOIP phone service. I'm sticking with my current over-priced phone services. Since either way I get screwed, I want to spread the joy around a bit.
Oh, one more thing. Stop calling me on my traditional phone and cell lines trying to get me to switch to your phone service because your sevice “is better.” Better than what? You seem to reach me on my current phones every night around dinner time. All that proves is that my existing phone services are working just fine -- maybe too well.
Sincerely Yours, Comcastically screwed
To: Internet Hall Monitors
Subject: Your criticism(s)
I did not realize that writing a blog was an open invitation to that small but annoying breed of anal retentive that, during our grammar school years, we knew as “hall monitors.” They are the Dudley Dorights of life. The little Ms. Prim and Propers, who shamelessly ratted on the rest of us, admonished us for slamming our locker doors, ordered us not to run in the hall and invariably raised their clean little hands at 2:59 PM every Friday to remind the teacher she'd forgotten to assign homework for the weekend.
Today they ... (and you know who you are,) have moved past simple anal retentiveness to full-blown Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD.) Deprived of school hallways to police they now scour blogs, not seeking useful and illuminating content, but in search of bad grammar, misspellings and punctuation fauxpas. When an error is found, they shoot off an email, virtually dripping with condescension, pointing out the mistake and rubbing the offender's nose in the proper spelling/punctuation/usage/syntax.
(The only thing I remember from English class was a teacher's advice on the use of comma's -- “When in doubt, leave it out.” Well, I'm always in doubt. Now that's what I call useful information!)
Anyway, as a serial offender, I would like to begin 2007 by addressing the concerns of these hall monitors who have contacted over the past couple of years about the literary minefield which is – and shall remain -- my blog:
To: All Flavors of the Devout
Subject: Butt out.
I have a deal for religious fundamentalists out there who keep emailing to warn that I'm on the path to Hell. I know. And I'm alright with that, so you should be too. I am not hurting anyone else so what's the issue? I just don't share your superstition of choice. I also don't believe in astrology, but astrologist's don't bug me about it. And that's the way it should be.
I've asked you to leave the rest of us alone. Still, you persist. You show up at my door, uninvited. You mess with my government, our laws, our courts, our schools, even our doctors.
So I have a deal to offer you in the coming year.
Your side of the deal:
Worship as you please, at your home, your mosque, church, synagogue or temple -- and leave the rest of us alone to live as we wish.
Our side of the deal:
In return for leaving the rest of us alone, we won't revoke your church's free-ride federal and state tax-exemptions.
How's that for a win/win situation?
Saint Stephen of The Bleeding Heart
(My liver and pancreas are probably in rough shape as well.)
Happy New Year everyone. At least we can hope.
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