Democratic Convention - Special Report #1

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Hi everybody,

I'm interrupting my regularly scheduled programming for a special report from the Democratic Convention, which opened last night in Denver. No time for pictures: I'm on deadline, people!

[Editor's Note: I added some photos for that lazy shit reporter. - Black Bart, Editor-In-Chief]

Unfortunately I was not able to attend, but did happen to be in an "adult" establishment that was piping in a feed from one of the cable channels. I couldn't hear the audio and was frequently distracted by females curious about my laptop, so my following impressions are based purely on lip-reading ability and an uncanny knack for intense, occasional focus.


Nancy Pelosi (D - California) opened the convention by extolling the benefits of a Reverse Mortgage, and how every American was entitled to a free gold kit. Nancy clearly demonstrated that she was still a "looker" for her age, and she will make a fine addition to my "D.I.L.F." list. Instead of being hung-over, the sparse crowd actually hung on her every word, since the first hour was a wee bit early for the alcohol "downslope", even by politico timetables.

In this way, she was not unlike the opening act in 1969 at Altamont Speedway, warming up the placid, law-abiding audience for the rock stars to follow. The attire and hairstyles of those in attendance served to reinforce the connection between past and present. Perhaps the only tangible difference was the abundance of crack pipes and the notable absence of Hells Angels.


Next up was Michelle Obama, who was introduced by her brother (who thankfully neither resembled nor behaved like Billy Carter). Mrs. Obama is a very striking woman, and she was absolutely regal in her delightfully form-fitting green dress. I could certainly get behind her message.

A video montage prior to the future First Lady's introduction illustrated her "Janet Jackson-like" metamorphosis over the years, from chubby female "Webster-clone" to "All For You" nubile hottie. My mind drifted to thoughts of Justin Timberlake gayly, patiently and mediocrely standing by her side throughout her speech in anticipation of a revealing finale. But regrettably and tastefully, it wasn't in the tarot cards.

So instead, Ms. Obama provided us with a powerful, emotional speech, recounting sacrifices* (* mostly of the non-human variety, which served as a refreshing counterpoint to the Clintons) made, values learned, and hopes for our future. She repeatedly emphasized how all people should be treated with dignity and respect even if they probably don't deserve it; including Republicans, frequenters of this blog, and Lamby in particular.


She went on to say that she learned tolerance while growing up on the south side of Chicago; where blonde, mostly-white Republicans with sweaters draped over their shoulders would drive by in Mustang convertibles blaring Beach Boys tunes. It would have been so easy to give into hate, but she chose the higher path of compassion, personal growth, belief in a greater purpose and the distant promise of Hair Metal.

Perhaps it was fitting that any revenge would be divinely exacted in the form of the Beach Boy's later efforts, such as "Kokomo", and of course in Ford's bloated Mustang designs of the 70's and 80's.

Lady Obama went on to explain Barack's background and how - contrary to what Republicans would like you to believe - he was not an elitist child of privilige.


Sure he grew up in Hawaii. But this wasn't the island paradise of today that we would readily recognize from the postcards of lucky bastards who get to go there and then rub it in. No, this was the "hard-scrabble" Hawaii of New Jersey-esque pineapple mills, hula-skirt factories, and scuba-equipped aquatic chaingangs. This was a union-thug, Papillion-tormenting, pre-Don Ho circle of hell that no self-respecting Japanese tourist would visit.

It was a swirling tan-or be tanned, riptide of tropical cruelty and certainly no place to raise or even accidently conceive a child.


And so, eventually a still-youthful Obama learned to time the waves, noting how every 7th one would sway a makeshift coconut catamaran away from this foul place and eventually carry him to that paradise known to the natives simply as "Chicago". It was there that he met Michelle during her Rhythm Nation phase, and became enthralled. Though she was initially repulsed, Barack plied her with his Urkel-like looks and charm, eventually talking his way into her "oval office".


Together, they encountered more adversity on the path to the promised land, with the idiot waiter at Chotchkie's (who would make annoying "dual-machine-guns firing simultaneously" gestures while repeating his first name, staccato-style) being just one example. But they overcame all, including incessant death threats from Hillary at all hours.

Well that's all I have time for, for now. Being in a hurry, I'm sure it's chock full of grammatical errors, although I do guarantee its accuracy. So consider this as Report #1 from your Special (Education) Correspondent, Pug "Scoop" Puerileuwaite.

And now, as "The Cisco Kid" would say, "Adios, amigos! See you real soon with Part-II !"


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Nugget from Craig' s List

Woo hoo! I'm off to pick up discount cinder blocks!


Hi everybody,

First off, I hope I caught most of you sitting down, just in case anyone has a stroke from seeing a new post within 8-days of the last one. And get this, I'm planning on trying to squeeze out a new offering EVERY week or so from here on out.

It certainly helps when I can steal the occasional bit of content from someone else. In fact, I just received the following actual Craig's List ad in an email from a good friend, and instantly it reminded me of a certain Cantankerous Confederate Clown who happens to reside in the same city as the poster. Coincidence? Or is it the same Bozo? You be the judge.


From richmond craigslist > materials

8x8x16 Cement Block - $1

I have approximately 275 to 300 cinder blocks for sale. They are standard 8"x8"x16". They cost about $1.75 plus delivery fees if you buy them somewhere else. I'm asking $1.00 per block.

You pick them up and move them yourself.

Please don't waste my f*cking time with endless emails. These are plain old cinderblocks. for f*ck sake. You don't need to do an engineering study on the feasibility of using these f*cking things as building material. That's what they're for, you f*cking idiots.


Now listen, we're all busy people here. You want the blocks? Come get the f*cking blocks and give me one dollar for every block you take. How f*cking hard is that? You don't have to tell me what you're building. I don't give a f*ck. I'm not interested in helping you build it either. Why? Because I don't give a f*ck. I just want to get these f*cking things off my property.

So if you want them, get the f*ck over here with some money and take them.


The next f*cking moron that emails me with "I'm building a blah blah blah, and was wondering if ..." The answer is NO. Come get the f*cking blocks and build it yourself. If I knew how to do masonry, don't you think I'd be using the blocks myself instead of selling them to you for half f*cking price? What the f*ck is wrong with you people?

The next one of you f*cking jackasses that emails me with some sob-story bullshit is getting his email address added to the North American Man/Boy Love Association mailing list.


You want the blocks? Come get the blocks, and don't f*ck with me!

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(For those of you with excellent eyesight, this is the original ad.)


I could have a blog with an endless supply of material just from Craig's List. Bless you, Craig's List. Keep on keepin' on, despite the morons.
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News by the Foot

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Hi everybody,

I'm interrupting my usual steady stream of posts with a painful, festering story fresh out of the creepy Pacific Northwest. This will not only help quench your thirst for tidbits in the "Twin Peaks" motif, but should also allow Yours Truly to hone my mad topical commentary skillz in the Lamby posting style.

The practice can only help in my quest to serve as guest news commentator on MSNBC's Morning Joe, and get me "restraining order" close to Mika Brzezinski, with whom I may or may not be infatuated. Enjoy.

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Human foot in shoe washes up on Washington beach
Officials examine whether find is linked to others found on Canadian coast

updated 7:55 a.m. MT, Tues., Aug. 5, 2008

PORT ANGELES, Wash. - An athletic shoe containing a human foot was found on a Washington state beach, and authorities are investigating whether it may be linked to a series of human feet found in shoes along the coast of British Columbia.

It could be just a coincidence.

Undersheriff Ron Peregrin said Monday that the King County medical examiner determined the foot was human and detached from its body naturally after floating in the water.

I mentioned to Undersheriff Peregrin how I can attest to that. My appendages come loose all the time while swimming. Sometimes things from inside are also involuntarily expelled. I asked if he could use his clout to convince the people at the Water Park to give me another chance. I then inquired why he was Undersheriff, since he was apparently "almost" named after the majestic, soaring falcon; to which he replied that Sheriff Paul Eagle was in charge.

Peregrin said the foot will be sent for a forensic investigation, including DNA testing to see if it matches feet found washed ashore in British Columbia. Results are expected to take six to eight weeks.

In a closely related development, I'm currently working with both David Lynch and the Disney people on an updated version of "Snow White". In this installment, she plays a Forensic Detective who finds love while matching up feet. In the final, dramatic scene, the man she loves (who is also a Forensic Detective, but doesn't know that she is too) bursts through the door holding the other, matching foot (to the chagrin of her evil step-sisters, who both possess obviously unrelated feet in crappy Walmart bargain-bin shoes) in the same high-end Nike.

Authorities said a woman told the Clallam County sheriff's office on Saturday that she found the black, high-top shoe along the beach on the Strait of Juan de Fuca, about 30 miles west of Port Angeles.

The woman stated that as she was getting ready to depart the beach, she arose from a prone position to put her Crocs on. It was then that she noticed the foot and black high-top right next to her own footwear.

Five athletic shoes containing human feet have been found along the Strait of Georgia between Vancouver Island and the British Columbia mainland since August 2007. The Strait of Juan de Fuca separates the Canadian island and Washington's Olympic Peninsula.

According to detectives, this appears to indicate that anywhere from 2.5 to 5 people may have been affected. A further analysis of the sizes and specific models of shoes should help determine the actual number of people involved.

A sixth foot found in June in British Columbia was determined to be an animal paw that had been shoved inside a shoe as a hoax. "We're a little apprehensive since the last one was a hoax," said Detective Sgt. Lyman Moores.

I mentioned to Detective Moores that the word "hoax" had already been used in the previous sentence. Appearing to be irate, he curtly responded that I frequently reuse the same tired words and phrases in my posts. To which I replied that my blog is not part of the investigation, but thank you for being a regular reader. Then I asked if this could be deemed a "cruel" hoax, and if anyone was "apprehensive" prior to the discovery of the animal paw. At that point he requested that I move on to my next interview.

DNA testing linked one of the Canadian feet to a depressed man who went missing a year ago. Investigators have also concluded that two of the five feet belonged to one man and that one foot was from a woman.

Amazed at this new development, I approached Detective Moores once again, inquiring if indeed it was true that DNA testing can now determine nationality and a person's state of mind. I also ran my own theory by him that the man and woman could have been engaged in an "old movie" kissing embrace when the feet were severed. The woman's other foot would have been up in the air, explaining the absence of her second foot. At this point I was handcuffed and led to a patrol car.

British Columbia coroner Jeff Dolan has said there was no evidence the feet were severed. Experts say that when a human body is submerged in the ocean, the arms, legs, hands, feet and head usually come off the body.

I mentioned to Coroner Dolan that this is probably why mobsters prefer to use oil drums when disposing of bodies (so that everything stays close together). He suggested that I run this by Detective Moores.

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