Life as an Open Book

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THIS IS NO LAUGHING MATTER

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I've been taking a lot of shots at the GOP-body's that "really, really, really" want to be President and having a grand time doing it (only half-way wishing there was still a talk show to be writing for), and I have to say that my choice is clear. After watching President Obama deliver his State of the Union Address and watching the Gab-Four "debate" each other over the past few weeks, it is obvious to me who has a clear vision for the future of this country. The following is paraphrased from The State of the Union (as a courtesy to any tea-partiers out there , as that is the way you for information disseminated) . . . "Let’s never forget: Millions of Americans who work hard and play by the rules every day deserve a Government and a financial system that do the same. It’s time to apply the same rules from top to bottom: No bailouts, no handouts, and no cop outs. An America built to last insists on responsibility from everybody. -- We need to end the no
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"The Special"

      "The Special”                by   James Patrick Lockett        It was an hour ago – to the second, if you care to be that precise – that we’d broken up. But, since I was looking at a clock next to the glass shelf of high end scotch, all bets were off. Bar Time! Could be an hour, could be could be ten minutes. However, I was on my fourth drink, so it was probably closer to . . .no, wait . . . that’s also a poor gauge. Fuck it, let’s just say sometime within the past hour I became single again.        I sucked the last bit of Jura off an ice cube and set the glass down in hopes of catching the bartender’s eye. I stared passed my empty glass, at the bodies on the dance floor pulsating to bad eighties songs. . .  . . .  traveling in a fried-out Kombi, on a hippie trail head full of zombie, I met a strange lady, she made nervous . . . . . . indeed. Ladies Night re-imagined with a clever slash of a Sharpie to Eighties Night. I could see Maggie and her friends sittin
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Radio, Radio

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I started last Friday, weighing in on the newest news story that is not news, and not by being news, it has somehow become news. I chose not to validate it by writing about it. Then I reconsidered my choice, I felt points still needed to be made. And then I saw the backlash - I no longer needed to make any points, human nature had stepped and it was being attended to faster than I could type Susan G. Kom.... Of course I am speaking about the bloated, conservative talk host Rush Limbaugh (or Russ Limbaugh as a faithful-listener/idiot relative of mine calls him), who when he's not blocking the entire fourth hole at Augusta, is swilling Oxy Cotin out of a Tea-Party thermos like it's Sunkist , who declared himself an expert on. . .wait for it, sluts. Not a huge stretch, I'm sure he tries to bed anything wearing a HOPE t-shirt. But this time, the cowardly-lion jowled host as spewed his verbal idiocy at the Georgetown grad student who was denied the right to testify at th
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