Happy Thanksgiving, BT!

Do they serve croissants in Paris, TX, Jonah? I hope you were able to find some arugula to go with your lunch.

Today I’m thankful that the Republicans are so monumentally unpopular that the Dems might actually survive screwing up health care reform.

Happy Thanksgiving all. The Giants are a fucking disgrace.

Happy Thanxgiver, BT, pups.

And with that I’m off to find my tree. Didn’t luck out and get a 4 day weekend. Damn.

Be good to yourselves, and all other living things.

Namaste

I’m sure Limbaugh smells bad, but just what does he have to say to get a visit from the Secret Service?

I wouldn’t count on it. The only thing the Dems have going for them is that all the Republican candidates are screwheads and woodpeckers.

Namaste, SD.

BT! Your captions are cracking me up.

The trouble with the French is that they have no word for coup d’etat.

Really. I hadn’t read that until you just mentioned it.

The good thing is that they also have no word for “bloated pustule on the body politic.” Sarkozy just isn’t that bloated.

You know the St. Germain des Pres is on the Rive Gauche.

You know the LEFT BANK of the frikkin Seine? Quartier Latin and bookstore much?

HAHAHAHHA! COMMIES!

Jonah is one of the few people in the world who couldn’t find a croissant at a French cafe.

Might. maybe. Possibly. Then it’s on to screw up something else, I guess

Kelly @13:

Remember that the Pantload thinks liberals are fascists. I don’t know how he can stand to spend his time over there in Naziland.

He seems like such an angry jerk, I wonder if Carla is experiencing buyer’s remorse yet?

The French don’t get buyer’s remorse. They just have an affair.

what happens if he gets sick in France? Say like food poisoning. Will he have to wait in line for 4 days to get treated? That’s what happens in France I hear.

Hey, Kell.

You realize that unless he’s staying at a Marriot, there’s a bidet in his room.

I wonder what he thinks it’s for?

Water fountain for a man-sized thirst!

Glenn Beck wants to know why we never had White Friday all these years.

The redoubtable BFL!

ça va?

Ewww.

all that stuffing usually makes me sleepy but not really tonight. Deviled eggs have me cuttin’ the cheese. Lots of good deserts. Lots of bad football. But a decent day. how was yours?

Gonna be gettin’ down the 40′s tonight.

evenin’ all, and Happy Almost-Over-Boid Day.

That’s right, with Carl Carlson I hear.

HTD, jayt.

“Oh Lord, make my enemies ridiculous,” and he granted it.

Voltaire prayer.

you too. it was pretty happy. until the Giants game came on. Fire. Coughlin. Can’t fire all the players.

Hope the cheese-eating surrender monkeys lure the Doughy One onto a bateaux-mouche and toss him in the Seine for a little baptism.

Ugh, what a skank, polluting the City of Light with his presence.

well, I guess that I can count the Voltaire-quoting truck drivers that I know on one hand finger.

No – not *that* finger….

where was that game? NFL Network? couldn’t find it.

Jonah in Seine, how apropos.

You really should wash that.

lol!

yeah. i turned it off when it was 23-6 and Eli had fumbled deep in his own territory. The magic were on TNT. At least they won. But, jeez. Detroit in one game, Oakland in the next. Pretty awful.

I try to get the most out of my 6th grade education.

anybody going shopping tomorrow a.m.??

I think that we’re gonna keep the Manning we have.

Kid’s got potential.

anybody going shopping tomorrow a.m.??

Is tomorrow December 24th? If not, then – no.

my dad had a 6th grade education. I’d say he got alot out of it. taught me about unions, labor, why Republican suck. why i should like the Giants and not the Jets; Yankees and not the Mets.

I’ve never done a Black Friday in my life but I’m thinking of going out early to score myself a wet/dry shop vac for $25. Realistically, I’ll probably just stay in bed.

I used to wait until the 24th and do almost all my shopping. Hop a train into NYC and go to stores up 5th Avenue and some other places. The schlep back to NJ with stuff falling out of ripped up bags. Wrap all that shit. To be young again.

There were probably fewer than six years when I learned anything from the prescribed curriculum, so make that a 3rd grade education.

I need one too. I got a little piece o’crap one but I need a regular one. I’ve never done it but I’m curious. was going to but decided against it

You really should wash that.

No, I keep *that* finger shiny and clean.

In fact, I’m thinking about painting it day-glo orange….

Oh Jeez, we’re going by years when we actually learned something useful??

then i think most people’s education is about the same. Formal, in-school education, i mean.

be right back. gonna go raid the fridgedare

Oh Jeez, we’re going by years when we actually learned something useful??

heh – for me, that would be the first year out of law school. That’s when I learned that I *wasn’t* a fantastic judge of people, and in general, didn’t know a goddamned thing.

So it goes.

I learned things that were useful, just not part of the intended curriculum. It’s what happens when you’re fundamentally alienated from the institutional structures of society.

fundamentally alienated from the institutional structures of society?? Now that’s a mouthful from somebody with a 3rd grade education ain’t it? Me too. that’s what I was. Fundamentally alienated ….. fundamentally… what you said. And all this time I thought i was just a drunk.

But seriously, I really admire people who educate themselves outside the strictures (pretty good word that, yes?) of formal education. But formal education was always pushed on me.

Credit for that description goes to the late, great, Utah Phillips.

used to take a hell of a lot of effort to be a proper drunk.

cool

I certainly regret not having been compatible with formal education. Well, as much as I regret anything, anyway, can’t change the past. Perhaps not regret, I just wish I’d tried a little harder.

true. after I typed “just” a drunk I said the word “just” doesn’t belong there. I was quite the drunk, indeed.

yeah. me too. i got the diplomas and put in my time but too much of it was sleep walking or in no shape to learn anything. wasted time in other words. but you’re right. won’t ever get that time back, so……………..

life’s easier now, huh?

much. MUCH. For you?

G’nite all.

nite. take care

oh yeah.

No more worries about getting up early enough to put a few under my belt before morning sessions, or worrying about whether anyone spotted that half-pint in my inner-coat pocket….

No more worrying about whether my being a wise-ass in court is/was the result of anything artificial and getting busted for it….

Shit – life is good. But I’m still a wise-ass – even in court.

Hell – I picked two different fights yesterday at an initial hearing. Judge threw me out finally – but not before I won both arguments. Now in the old days, I would have wondered whether that was really *me* talking, or something else.

Nite rf.

May you and all the avians named Bob in your house rest well!

That bozo had coffe [sic] but didn’t know how to get a croissant? In Paris? What a putz.

Nite, rf – sleep well.

still with my extended family for Thanksgiving dinner, hiding in a corner iphoning. I count at least four conversations in the room I am in now about how Obama will be the death of America (one with an ordained minister carrying on about the socialist oppression that is Obamacare) and one about how CA Dems are out to destroy our noble hero of a governator. My aunt’s housekeeper may be the only other Dem here, and I’m not even sure about her. Please pray for me….

Pray?

LEAVE NOW, BLUB! RUN!

Jonah learns croissant isn’t french for egg mcmuffin.

I make it a quite conscious point to never talk politics when, on T-Bird Day, we travel to Southern Indiana to visit w/ my mom’s side of the family. I bite my tongue – a lot.

But if you’re already in it – good luck, brother.

growing up, family get tog ethers meant talk about politics, politics and politics – which usually meant The War, Nixon is an asshole and The War/race/commies. i went to a place today where nobody was conversant enough with politics to talk about it at all. just weird for me. Thank God for football. But hey, at least nobody showed up with an autographed copy of Palin’s book.

And if Jonah knew that in French, croissant means CRESCENT, like that damn moon on those AY-Rab flags, yanno, signifying when Allah went to The Big Upstairs, he’d explode!

It’s a Franco-Commie-Islamo-Fascist Food Plot!

That bozo had coffe [sic] but didn’t know how to get a croissant? In Paris? What a putz.

I refer to situations like that as “a special kind of stupid”.

LOL. Stay outta trouble, man.

Geez, just dropping in since last night! Way too much to catch up. Will try…

well, Pillsbury is just fine with me.

gonna go watch espn some. everybody have a good night. see yuz around.

And those leftistes drink their coffee black, like le Presidente. All the smuggled non-dairy creamers in the world can’t whiten that up.

;>)

You’re FINE with Franco-Islamo-Commie-Fascist-Pilsbury-Croissants? Sigh.

I pegged you for a fine upstanding yankee biscuit eater.

what are these “creamers” you speak of?

Do I still qualify as a leftiste if I prefer my coffee from truck-stops and gas-stations?

Ummm – don’t answer that.

time to get horizontal.

Night, all.

Not all of them, really. Many leftistes order up a cafe grande — one of those big bowl-like cups of coffee with milk from those cheese-eaters’ cows.

But I would pay good money to see Jonah go toe-to-toe with a little bird of a woman I saw when I was in Paris. Another leftiste friend and I had made a habit of frequenting a little corner cafe for our morning dose of cafe grande and pain au chocolat, when a tiny woman who looked like a skinny sparrow ducked into the cafe and alighted next to us at the bar. What amazed us was that the barista had begun to pull a cafe express and set it on the counter without having clapped eyes on this woman; she arrived at the counter at the very moment the small cup and saucer had stopped moving, and in an absolute economy of movement, put down her money, grabbed the cup, slammed its piping hot contents down her throat, and then placed the cup on the saucer to make a bee-line for the Metro station. There was not a nod, a word, even eye contact made between the bird-woman and the barista; the cup was still steaming as she hit the sidewalk with her little bird-steps.

My friend’s carefully plucked eyebrows were in her hairline with amazement; we had everything we could do not to burst out laughing with surprise at the superwoman-like qualities the little bird must have possessed to slam a boiling shot of espresso like that, let alone the miracle of the familiarity between the barista and the bird-woman.

Jonah is so over his ugly fat head.

We’re having a weird Thanksgiving. My brother had a brain aneurism while his S.O. was/is in Africa and had been unconscious for at least 2 days before friends found him.
We, his blood American citizen family, are so grateful he has Socialist Medicine, living in a Social Democratic country. I called in tears to say I was his sister from the USA and I needed to tell him I loved him. The nurses held the phone to his ear. They just trusted that I was who I said I was in this situation. They told me his condition.
The neurosurgeon called me to explain the seriousness of the situation and we talked about what Dylan would not want. To wake up brain damaged. What our aging parents need….to say goodbye before they decide to end life-support, if it comes to that. There is still a sliver of hope.
Kindness, humanity, dignity,grace, communication.

Fuck a compromise on the stupid craptastic fake Healthcare Reform Bullshit. Fuck them all to hell!!! I want commie healthcare. I want it now.

Now that is a VERY French story! I’ve seen simliar, tho I can’t do it justice like you have. A tabac proprietor, and his daily Galoise customer come to mind. Heh.

O no, I feel for you and your parents and Dylan.

(((openhope)))

Suzanne’s Late Late Night is upstairs!
Late Late Night FDL: Waltz Of The Flowers

(((openhope & brother)))

You know what’s getting us through this? An amazing DVD and CD of a music project called Playing For Change. playingforchange.com. It’s about music that lifts you above the pain, gives you a moment to breath. The most awesome incredible make-you-glad-you’re-human experience. Peace Through Music.
It began with a man, Mark Johnson[ I hope that's his name, the DVD just went to my sister's house to help her with her pain] heard a street musician ,Roger Ripley,singing Stand By Me and was so enthralled that he took that man’s music and went around the world laying down tracks to build a 35 person band, digitally.
Fucking amazing. Fucking makes you remember that life is only the time we have. Be here now.

Actually they do. You can find them at the HEB bakery section in little plastic bags. They aren’t all that great compared to real baked goods from a real bakery.

I am emboldened by Erick Erick Erickson to, by inserting a lengthy adverbial phrase so you wonder when the verb is going to show up, split an infinitive, crassly.