McConnell Killed by Rogue Vegetables

WASHINGTON, D.C. -- Sen. Mitch McConnell (RINO, Ky) was killed today when a rabble of angry vegetables swarmed him outside the Russell Senate Office Building.

Killer tomatoes ripped McConnell limb from limb and fed him to locally grown corn and cucumbers after McConnell turned traitor and helped Democrats pass the Food Safety Bill, outlawing the sale of locally grown vegetables and fruits at food stands.

Local farmers stood by as the vegetables raged, cheering and holding signs with slogans such as “An Ear of McConnell for an Ear of Corn” and “My Squash, Your Face.”

“Last year, more people were killed by automobile accidents, heart attacks, lung cancer, and natural causes combined than by any one tomato,” said one local farmer, adding that one turncoat senator is far more dangerous than the risk any homegrown vegetable poses to the average American.

When told the bill would ruin their chances for school field trips to local fruit stands, children visiting the Capital Building raided a Whole Foods market and pelted McConnell’s remains with Brussel sprouts.

Said one particularly rotund pumpkin from Maryland who joined in the fray, in between bites from one of McConnell’s arms, “This gives a whole new meaning to the saying, ‘Eat Local.’”

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McConnell Killed by Rogue Vegetables

My First Anniversary

From the insanely irreverent Grumpy Old Twat

I've been putting this off, so now I just need to get it over with and move on.

A week ago, this blog turned one year old. Judging from how I started out, it's a miracle it made it to one month. But along the way we got stuck with America's biggest fan and, well, I had to go on.

I've had some ups and downs. Along about June I was getting ready to hang it up, perhaps for lack of material, perhaps because I didn't think anyone gave a damn. But then 8 asshole Republicans helped the House pass cap and trade and I got a little huffy about it and Ann Coulter picked up this post and together we helped about 10,000 people say, or at least think, what they felt about those RINOs.

I guess you could say that post helped me find some resolve.

After receiving some 75,000 hits now, I'd have to say what matters most to me about this place are the readers. You make it worth opening up that "new post" button every day. I hope you've been entertained, and if you're a moonbat zombie troll, I hope you've been really pissed off.

Rather than go through a litany of my "top 10" posts, I'd like to start a little game for my blogging friends. If you post in the comments a link to your favorite post on this site, I'll put my favorite post of yours up here during the month of November and link back to you. (My non-blogging friends can join in, too. For those who do, I'll make you a character in a skit that makes Chairman Zero look like the buffoon he truly is.)

And since we're going to be blessed with the Wicked Witch of Congress bringing her wealth share Obamanation to the floor of the House this week, I'm going to repost what's probably my most favorite piece because it represents what this place is really all about....

(P.S. Give fellow patriot Logistics Monster a hand to keep battling the moonbat brigade.)

(P.P.S. Seriously, folks. I want you to take whatever you like from this site and post it on your site with a link back. If what you like is a bit too foul with language, then pick something else. I really like this idea of exchanging posts with everyone. It keeps blogging fresh and interesting.)

I'm a Democrat: You Owe Me

I’m a democrat. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I have my own pile of money, but I want yours, too, including the four pennies you have rattling around in the bottom of that peanut butter jar you frugal idiots like to use as a change holder. Give it up! You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I just say I like the public school system. My kids go to private schools so that your kids can go to public schools and learn how to be good little democrats like me. When my kids grow up and become better members of a collectivist society, and your kids grow up confused, my kids will get government jobs and take more money and freedom from your kids. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I have a job with health insurance, but I think it’s everyone else’s fault when I get sick and have to cut back on my lifestyle so I can pay for health care that should be free, along with cars and houses and big screen TVs. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. There is no god. You can go ahead and get down on your knees and pray to the ceiling for forgiveness and strength and peace, but I’ll be standing right behind you with a tire iron, bashing your skull and stealing your wallet. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I hate people. I would rather sleep with my dog or a cucumber or a tree than with another person…unless I can just dump them on the curb after we’re through. You just have sex to make more people so you can continue to earn more money while you rape the planet. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I love taxes. It’s patriotic…for you…to pay them. I don’t pay any, anyway. And if I have to, I’ve figured out loop holes or have offshore accounts to shelter my money, so the government never really gets too much from me anyway. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. It’s not only my right but also my duty to take freedom and representative republicanism from you, little by little, and replace it with government bureaucracy. From each according to his ability, to each according to his need. I’m needy. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I have a $20 million vacation playground on Martha’s Vineyard and a guarded compound in South Chicago and belong to the richest majority in Washington’s history. But I hate rich people who aren't democrats and want your property too so I can save endangered swamp rats and build turtle tunnels and fix toilets. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. There are more of you than there are of me. You breathe too much. I’ve told the world outlandish lies that you’re causing global warming, using faulty correlations to get everyone so worried they’re about to let me tax thin air. And you’ll breathe a lot less. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I’m an elitist. I’m perfect. I’m not like all of you stupid wingnuts out there working your greedy little fingers to the bone trying to make a little money and feed your family and have something to call successful when you retire. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I live in the city so I can get stupid drunk and piss on the streets when I want and kick your parked car when it gets in my way. It’s too bad that you have all those guns in your humble suburban and country homes. If you didn’t, I’d come and toss you out on your naked ass and make you live in the fetid cities that my government policies screwed up. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I think you hate homosexuals. I have no idea that you just want to be left alone and live your life the way you see fit and not have your children taught with government money that they should seek alternative lifestyles for the fun of it. I just want you to do what I think you should do with your life. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I’m so tolerant I can’t tolerate anyone who doesn’t think the way I do. In fact, I hate white people. I hate all people. I hate myself. I hate myself so much that I hate you even more when you are happy. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I don’t know how to do anything for myself. I need to be told what to do. I don’t think human beings are capable of taking care of themselves. That’s what government is for. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I don’t think any people should have rights. I think fish and frogs and grass should, however, and I want to represent them in court…and you to pay for it. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I’m a child. I act like a child and I think like a child and I live like a child and I throw up my hands and have little fits when I don’t get my way. There should be no consequences for anything I do. But there should be consequences for you, even if you’re blameless in what I accuse you of. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I’m racist but I get others to think that you are racist just because I call you one. It’s a riot to watch you squirm because I know you have a conscience. I do not. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I was born poor or middle class or rich, but it doesn’t matter. I was born black or white or Asian or Latina, but it still doesn’t matter. In fact, it’s Bush’s fault that I was even allowed to be born at all. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I want health care at your expense, while I’m young and virulent and child-like. But then I want you to kill me when I start to get old and weak and feeble, so that all of my young and virulent and child-like democrat friends can have health care at your expense.

Then I want to come back to life as a rock, so lots of birds can shit on me. They owe me, too, for being a loony moonbat.

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My First Anniversary

The 2012 RINO Express (Snark and Boobs Special)

Just a guess here, but I'm thinking SnarkandBoobs would really appreciate this shirt.

Via Twitpic

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The 2012 RINO Express (Snark and Boobs Special)

Scuzzyface Quits

Cheezburger.com

First we got Van Jones fired; now we got Scuzzyface to quit. Blogging doesn't pay shit, but it sure is rewarding. Gee ... I wonder if RINOs Michael Steele and The Newt are crying right now?

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Scuzzyface Quits

The Proper Response to Solicitation from the RNC

I guess the devil doesn't want to come down to Georgia. At least Dede Scozzafava's man-bitch doesn't think it's worthy of her:

"Her positions on a lot of issues are reflective of the electorate here," said Matt Burns, a Scozzafava spokesman. "If the idea is that every Republican that runs for office needs [to be] someone who fits in Georgia, then it's going to be very, very difficult for Republicans to gain a majority in the House of Representatives."

Actually, that is the idea, Mr. Burns. We're a lot more Republican (read: fiscally and socially conservative) and representative of most of America than Scuzziface, who could get her ass stomped Tuesday by conservative opponent Doug Hoffman in NY's 23rd congressional district. Who knows if Scuzziface even knows there's a Georgia to worry about?

Maybe she will now, since Michelle Malkin made the above photo from Atlanta tweeter cprater (and mobster friend of ours) the rejected RNC solicitation form of the day. When it's all said and done, Michael Steele and Newt Gingrich may need to apologize for eating Scuzziface hotdogs on the sidelines during game day. Are you listening? Ya'll have some 'splainin' to do over your love for RINOs. (They got some love from cprater, too.)

On second thought, we don't want to listen to you any more. We'd rather redirect your damaged plan for the Republican Party and put REAL conservatives like Hoffman in office in 2010 and 2012 and actually turn this whole country around, preferably without you.

P.S. Go read this important post by Jim McMahon about next Tuesday's elections. And if you live in NY-23, VOTE DOUG HOFFMAN!

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The Proper Response to Solicitation from the RNC

"Why Are You Are Republican?"

You know, my first blog post was a piece of garbage, but at least I wrote a coherent sentence.

Michael Steele, head buffoon of the RNC and buddy of such great defenders of your liberty and your wallet as Olympia Snowe and Lindsey Graham and John McCain?

Not so much.

No wonder health care lives on .... Oh, and to answer the question: I'm not anymore. You know the ever popular expression: "I didn't leave the Republican Party...."

What Up? For God's sake, man: Certainly not you.

h/t: Hot Air, Pinkelephantpundit

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"Why Are You Are Republican?"

YES...Arlen Sphincter's a RINO

Oh, my...what The Nose On Your Face comes up with.

Arlen's going down in 2010, hopefully in the primary, and hopefully to Pat Toomey, but...this "outing" (well, there really wasn't a need for it, since we all KNOW he's a Democrat...but still) is just...so...friggin'...priceless:

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YES...Arlen Sphincter's a RINO

Arlen Sphincter: Why I Support Porkulus

I’m Arlen Sphincter, and I wasn’t born into this world. I fell out of a Democrat’s ass…and I’ve been leaving a stain wherever I travel since.

I support Porkulus because I’m a dope of epic proportions. Not only did I start my political career as a Democrat, but you have me to thank for the invention of the asinine single-bullet theory in the Warren Commission Report. Being only a paper supporter of the 2nd Amendment and not actually owning any weapons (accept for the pen I use to sign big-spending legislation), I don’t have any concept of the trajectory of bullets or what happens if one would enter two human bodies and supposedly skewer 15 layers of clothing, 7 layers of skin, and some 15 inches of tissue, striking a necktie knot, eviscerating 4 inches of rib, and shattering a radius bone along the way. I would think that bullet would appear pretty pristine, don’t you? Yeah. I told you I fell out of someone’s ass.


I support Porkulus because the law (or the appearance of it) has always been my guide. I eventually became a Republican (in name only) because I thought it was way cool back in the ‘60s before all the peaceniks came along (or I would have joined them instead). But my real love, above “bi-partisanship,” has always been the law. (That’s why I toe the line and still French kiss Democrats on so many fronts because I “refuse to criminalize” uproariously fun things to do, like having abortions and letting immigrants stay here and have abortions at your expense.) Long before I was one of the [obligatory gag reflex] most respected members of the U.S. Senate, I was an attorney in private practice. I represented greenie wacko Ira Einhorn, the “Unicorn” killer who is credited with founding Earth Day, thank you very much…who also just happened to kill his girlfriend and stuff her in a closet for a couple years. I got the judge to let him out on ridiculously low bail, and Ira fled to Europe for nearly 20 years, avoiding conviction until 2002. That’s just one of my many acts of lavishly spending the taxpayers’…I mean...government’s money. Porkulus, you see, is the biggest piece of crap law to come along in the history of mankind. I just couldn’t resist the chance to be the vote that makes it all happen. (I also fantasize about starting a Congressional pony farm and decorating the ponies’ manes with pink and purple and yellow ribbons, but even Democrats think I’m nutty for it.)

I support Porkulus because I ALWAYS do dumbass things with your…I mean…the government’s money. I count as one of my most meaningful accomplishments the near-Congressional hearings I almost got going on the important subject of the New England Patriots spygate case. I consider the sanctity of the National Football League paramount to our country’s national defense. Why, if we let this kind of thing continue to go on, you just might turn off your TVs…and start paying more attention to what we’re doing here in Congress. You might look for (real…not bullshit) hope and change. I say…I say…I say let’s spend your (government) money to get to the bottom of this…so that Operation NFL-BigScreenTV-AmericanMindMeld can continue as planned. (Shucks…did I just write that? Um…well…I meant to say, so that you fine people can have balanced and honest and wholesome and unrated violence to watch on TV five months out of the year.)

I support Porkulus because I’m a proud conspirator in undermining lots of things. For example, I played a key role in the developments that led to William Safire coining the term “Borked.” You see, I was one of the idiots who backed then Senator Joe Biden (now our thoughtful-speaking vice president) and helped Democrats excoriate Ronald Reagan’s Supreme Court justice nominee Robert Bork and reject his nomination because of his political beliefs. (Why should we have looked at his judicial record when his “beliefs” and his video rental history surely would have governed his thinking on the nation’s highest court? Why, my beliefs always govern my thinking...that’s why I vote like a Democrat! P.S. Please don’t let anyone know my favorite movie is Howard the Duck.)

I support Porkulus because I’m goofy as all hell. I chose the Scots law anachronism (because I am one) of “not proven” in the impeachment proceedings against X-42, instead of just being clear and voting “not guilty,” because we practice Scots law every day here in America. Didn’t you know? Hell, I’m a show off at heart. That’s why I puff up my chest like a rooster when there’s any perception of wrong doing by anyone (see the Patriots), but then I settle down to roost on some hen’s eggs because I’m really just a eunuch.

I support Porkulus because I think it’s wonderful the Democrats are going to saddle my great-grandchildren with socialism, high taxes, poor economic futures, and fun had by all. After all, it’s not every day you get to be completely stupid and attach your name to an $827 economic spending bill that helps Americans buy digital converters for their 1978 TVs, gives money to such powerful economic engines as NASA and the National Science Foundation and the National Institutes of Health (NIH), and has little, if anything , to do with direct relief to the people who really fuel this economy: taxpayers and businesses. (Screw you guys, anyway, you filthy taxpayers and businesses. You’ve never done anything for me, accept keep me in office for 29 years.) Besides, I want the $6.5 billion for NIH medical research to be used for embryonic stem cell research that lets me live forever. THEN, I will run for PRESIDENT OF THE UNIVERSE (because by then, it will take the taxes of all living organisms in the entire universe to support the annual federal budget)!

I support Porkulus because it’s been said that when I’m within two years of running for re-election, I always throw my big puffy chest to the side of conservatives in my party, so they’ll help me defeat whatever legitimate conservative the good people of Pennsylvania put up against me. I’m up for re-election in 2010. I’ve been here for 29 years and haven’t moved up the ladder. I need a break (before I get to live forever and run for PRESIDENT OF THE UNIVERSE)…and I know that my support of Porkulus will guarantee that next year the good people of Pennsylvania will shove me back up that asshole from whence I came. [Lord, friggin’ let it be so. Amen!]

That way I can go play with some ponies on a farm somewhere until the NIH cures me of asshole-itis, and I get to live forever and become PRESIDENT OF THE UNIVERSE.

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Arlen Sphincter: Why I Support Porkulus