Wednesday, January 27, 2010

From "Important Speeches Edition"

Morning Roundup: Important Speeches Edition

There isn't too much more information about the [fatal Metro] incident, although Jim Graham is quoted as saying the accident "was a direct result of human error."
It's just absolutely horrific that all of these humans are now branded in this way having been tainted and painted with the same brush. Jim Graham's statement is callous, lacks specificity and, if true, demonstrates a failure on your part to act with all deliberate speed to protect the interests of our passengers. I urge you to immediately rescind this global indictment of humans and to issue a full public apology.

Which are you more excited for, the State of the Union or the Apple Tablet?
If the Jesus Tablet is anything like Apple's first releases, it'll be expensive (anybody remember paying $2,500 for a Mac Plus?), underpowered (Newton 100?), and crash-a-riffic (Mac OS 8?). I'll hold off until at least Jesus iTablet 2.0 with WiFi teledildonics and the moaning iVulva on the back. My "stylus" is getting a "Bluetooth stack" just thinking about it.

Friday, January 22, 2010

From " Whimpersnow Edition"

Morning Roundup: Whimpersnow Edition

Hunt said he estimates it would cost $500,000 to "sweep it out and turn on the lights"

That, in a nutshell, is everything that's wrong with America.

One of Fenty's frat brothers will win exclusive development rights in a multi-million-dollar no-bid contract. The City Council will demand a review of the contractor selection process, but will back down after Peter Nickles insists there was no wrongdoing. He will then send the contract to the Council as part of a collection of two-hundred other no-bid contracts and insist the Council approve them up or down. Council will cower in a corner and beg not to be hurt. Meanwhile, the Mayor will be out-of-town attending a fundraising fixie race for oilsoaked billionaire Middle Eastern perverts. Over the next two decades, the still uncompleted Dupont Circle Underground/Jim Graham/African-American Civil War Memorial/Cricket Cellphone Gallery becomes the largest hub of CHUD/Morlock activity on the East Coast, forcing the Council to issue a multi-million-dollar no-bid contract to Ghostbusters, LLC (a wholly-owned subsidiary of Fenty Frat Brothers, Ltd.)

The safety zone workaround seems pretty easy to me. Instead of creating "safety zones" where penalties are higher, the Council should just designate everything outside the "safety zone" as an "less-than-safety zone" where penalties aren't enforced at all. Isn't that basically what we have now anyway?

[Commander Salamander is closing???] See, I was never much into Commander Salamander. We spent most of our time watching porn and Bergman movies at the Biograph, trolling that record shop where the owner walked around town barefoot, or loitering at the head shop. And making 8mm silent movies in the old abandoned laundry plant that's now the cinema googolplex.

Chess King is alright if you're looking for a daishiki, but is no Up Against the Wall or Cavalier Clothing. Because nobody takes you seriously in this town unless you're wearing a lime-green three-piece, gold studs, and white Stacey Adams penny loafers. Straight UP.

[Is SMASH still open?] Nope. They're selling $5 cupcakes or gourmet dog biscuits or something. Hard to tell the difference sometimes. Hey! Hard? Biscuit? That's a joke, son! What's the matter, Dog? You look like two miles of bad road.

Who was it who said, "Punk died the day someone said, 'Punk's not dead!'"?

It's over, man. Let her go.

That white translucent black cape? Put it back on the rack.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

From "Business Time Edition"

Morning Roundup: Business Time Edition

My inaugural balls are always bouncing, from the left and to the right. It's my belief that my inaugural balls should be held every night.

[DC Fire Dept Over Budget]

1. Hire enough EMS personnel so you don't have to pay existing personnel overtime.

2. Put the Cathedral burning car rescue guy in charge of rescuing people from burning cars.

3. Place EMS employees who can't tell the difference between drunkenness and head trauma in an ambulance, get them loaded on peaceahol, and donate them to the Dominican Republic.

4. You DO NOT talk about EMS Overtime Club.

5. Answer Five.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

From "Sayonara, Supermajority Edition"

Morning Roundup: Sayonara, Supermajority Edition

Ha! Nickles gives the Council the fingeroo and the Council blinks. So much for administrative oversight. I give it another 18 months before an audit finds that all the contracts went to a single Fenty frat brother known only as "Shemp" and all the money went to a Cayman Islands offshore holding company, where it was used to stockpile ambulances, peaceahol, dome wax, Thai she-male hookers, Immodium, fixies, lycra and spandex, American Apparel body stockings, and Nexus-6 pleasure units, the standard item for military clubs in the outer colonies.

Okay. So the guy who got tased to death just finished a 10-year prison sentence, was a registered sex offender, addicted to PCP, living in a homeless shelter, getting kidney dialysis, ended up in the hospital for excessively high blood pressure, went back to being a serial shoplifter, and the cops were after him as a suspect for stealing a bar of soap and hair clippers. Can this get any more depressing? Why, yes it can! It's called "multi-million-dollar wrongful death suit."

You were the chosen one! It was said you'd destroy junkpunching, not join it!

*sniff* You were my brother, Monkeyrotica. I loved you. In that way. [demonfafa]

From my point of view, the Jedi are evil. Don't lecture me, demonfafa. I see through the lies of the Jedi. I do not fear the dark side as you do. I have brought peace, justice, freedom, and security to my new Empire. Don't underestimate the power IN MY PANTS.

Where is Molly!?® Is she safe, is she all right?

I'm afraid she died. It seems in your anger, you choked her with an American Apparel body stocking.

I couldn't have! She was alive! I felt her! She was alive! It's impossible! NOOOOOO!!!

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

From "Strange Days Edition"

Morning Roundup: Strange Days Edition

It's about time the GOP showed that the Democrats don't have a monopoly on womanizing alcoholic plutocrats.

Vote Quimby.

[The Post has become a shell of its former self.] Quit knocking the Post! What other paper is going to deliver 90% of its pages full of ads for cars and suburban real estate, two things that this region desperately needs more of? Somebody has to live in Prince William County! And just because they're illiterate is no excuse. There's still plenty to look at, like those delightful Mark Trail cartoons and those wonderful photographs of Obama looking thoughtful.

[Overwhelmed DC Service Centers] Isn't it about time Fenty appointed a Human Services "czar" to handle these perennial public aid problems? Someone who knows the plight of the destitute firsthand? Someone with a history of delivering the kind of "customer service" that DC residents have come to expect from their government? There can be only one candidate that meets these criteria, and he's right under our noses.

I believe a cabinet level designation of "Incontinent Hobo-in-Chief" is merited here. Along with a diaper or whatever equivalent DC's conflict-of-interest laws dictate. I suggest Marion Barry's desk drawer.

Friday, January 15, 2010

From "Nuptials Edition"

Morning Roundup: Nuptials Edition

Pappy always used to say, "When God takes a dump, he always opens a window. Now go down to the corner and get me a pack of cigarettes. And where the hell's my J&B?" I miss that guy.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

From "Waiting for Word Edition"

Morning Roundup: Waiting for Word Edition

So it's the Examiner who fires the first shot in the latest "War on Hobos." First of all, it wasn't a "throat slashing." He was merely offering to give his friend a close shave. And second of all, he wasn't trying to offer him a close shave, he was trying to slash his throat. And finally, he wasn't trying to "slash his throat," he was trying to start a fight over a porkchop. Get it straight.

This is just one in a series of attempts to frame Poopy the Magic Hobo for a crime he didn't commit. First the FBI blames him for the murder of his wife, when actually it was the mysterious One-Armed Man and second, he ended up with retrograde anterior amnesia where he can't form new memories, covers himself with tattoos, and has to avenge the murder of his wife by the mysterious "John G." All I have to say is, "remember sammy jankis."

[Band of candlelight vigilers?] Come to think of it, when I was dating my pinko ex-girlfriend in the 1980s, we were always running into the same people at the Rock Against Reagan/Racism concerts, pro-choice rallies, and NORML smoke-ins. I guess they all grew up, bought candle making kits, and need ways to use up all those leftover candles.

[Picking up chicks at candlelight vigils?] There's always CRYFEST: The Cure vs The Smiths Dance Party at Black Cat. Also, I object to your sexist use of the term "chicks." Acceptable substitutes would include "gashes," "hatchet wounds," and "that which bleeds for a week but won't die" if you're not into the whole brevity thing.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

From "Man Up, Gray Edition"

Morning Roundup: Man Up, Gray Edition

Ted Loza should run for Mayor. Life in DC was much simpler, predictable, and entertaining with a convicted felon in the Mayor's office. As it is now, a bunch of frat boys get 90 option-year contracts to do absolutely nothing for a billion dollars, and the whole mess gets rubberstamped by a wishy-washy vampire and his aberrant coterie of cannibals, necrophiles, light pollution fetishists, and Blame-Jumbo-Slice-Firsters. I'm ashamed to be an American today. It must be Tuesday.

So if at some later date, it's determined that those $1 billion in contracts actually went to Peaceaholics to purchase ambulances, child porn, roundtrip air fare to the Dominican Republic, gold lamé Luis Vuitton handbags, and peaceahol, who gets the blame? Fenty? Gray? Nickles? Or will it be conveniently placed on the head of a certain hirsute illegal immigrant who has taste for bamboo and public sex? Because I'm pretty sure Marion Barry has an alibi.

Friday, January 8, 2010

From "No Snow Day for You Edition"

Morning Roundup: No Snow Day for You Edition

I thought obscenely expensive real estate was supposed to be a good thing? Y'know, an indicator of increased market demand for a finite resource? The only problem is when you end up with block after block of sterile office high rises that go empty after 7pm with zero ground-floor retail and even less foot traffic. But the name of the game is generating maximum tax revenue per square foot, not creating livable, walkable, mixed-use environments. Gotta fill those tax coffers so the Council can spend money on... on... whatever it is they're spending money on. I forget. Something about rainbow-farting unicorns and gold-plated bidets.

Almost 600 staff and teaching positions would be cut, general education summer school wouldn't be an option, and students at 32 elementary schools no longer would participate in a program that verses them in languages from Arabic to Chinese and Latin.

No, not Latin! We're running out of dead languages to study! All that's left are Mayan, Cretin Linear B, Esperanto, Klingon, and 1337. There is no emoticon for what I'm feeling!

In another hit to athletics, participants would pay a $100 fee per sport next year.

Why not make it $200 per sport, but throw in all the Latin geeks they can beat up? This would generate more revenue for Jockey McJock's precious alpha male monkey programs and discourage geeks from learning obscure latinate phrases. Maybe if they'd had these programs in the 1950s, George Will wouldn't be choking the papers with his "casus bellis" and "Honi soit qui mal y pense" and "Well."

Thursday, January 7, 2010

From "Georgetown Traffic Mess Edition"

Morning Roundup: Georgetown Traffic Mess Edition

If they were to close every bridge that just happened to have a dead body under it, they'd have to shut down most of downtown DC which, come to think of it, isn't a bad idea. Just so long as they keep the bike lanes open and put out the occasional out-of-control hobo fire.

In a statement, the WHS said "most of the allegations" in the report were investigated and "proven completely without merit."

Translation: We hired a former investigator and full-time hobo arsonist and paid him three dead gasoline-soaked dogs so we could whitewash the story, only to have him confirm that 49% of the allegations were true.

The Director of the Washington Humane Society moved to have the hobo's investigator's license pulled. However, the Migrant Investigators Union (Pyromaniacs Local #187) filed a protest. During negotiations with the union, the hobo in question was re-hired at double the gasoline-soaked-dog rate. The Director's office was subsequently destroyed in a mysterious dog-related fire that investigators blamed on faulty wiring. PEPCO Electricians Union (Bunch of Guys Just Standing Around Local #187) moved to have the results of the investigation stricken from the record and replaced by "force majeure."

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

From "Perfect (Seasons) From Now On Edition"

Morning Roundup: Perfect (Seasons) From Now On Edition

Catalytic converter and R-22 freon theft are going to be growth industries. It cost me close to $1,000 to recharge the AC on my '62 Lincoln Continental Convertible. And no, I'm not going to trade it in because it's the only place I can have sex while re-enacting the Kennedy assassination.

The car crash is a fertilizing rather than destructive event. Ask anyone who's pooped their pants after t-boning a policecar.

Best. Date Movie. EVAR.
After "Emperor of the North" and "Nekromantik?" Maybe! Still, "Blue Velvet" holds a special, cherished place IN MY PANTS. Nothing compares to cuddling up with that special someone and slugging them in the jaw while screaming, "DON'T YOU F**KING LOOK AT ME!"

The Post reports the latest on the case of Reginald Jones, the MPD officer accused of participating in robbery and murder.
I can vouch for Reginald Jones being alone in his squad car. I was with him in the backseat and I'm a witness. It's also sad to see that the Council moves to penalize sidewalk smoking, yet the punishment for sidewalk defecation remains a guaranteed Ward 8 Council membership seat. But that's communism for you.

Also, that is without a doubt the sexiest iron lung [pictured] I've seen in at least a week. I'd definitely put my peter in it.

It's an old movie projector. (Not a great place to put your peter. The bulb inside is very hot and bright and there are a lot of gears.)

Meh. I've done E-stim that could handle higher voltage than that. Although I am intrigued by process of fornication with outdated technology. How does sex with this projector compare to doing it with, say, a Nixie clock? Maillardet's automaton? Is any special technique involved, or can you just slip it a roofie? Most importantly, where is the g-spot? Because I don't want to spend half an hour fondling a rivet.