- Fuck you.
- The professional commitments I could handle, but I wasted a lot of time talking to people and dealing with their emotional needs. Pffft! Later for that!
- I sold my posts to more popular blogs to buy medicine for orphans.
- I... I don't know. What day is this? This calendar says 2007! No! NO!
Ace O. Spades has gone back to thinking that calling someone a traitor is more fun than calling him gay. For the moment.
Jeff Goldstein continues to redefine surrealism as what the French call "jokes without punchlines."
Why would ladies pay five grand to take writing lessons from a successful author, asks a NRO rookie hack, when the real question is, why would anyone pay $5000 to be set adrift in the North Atlantic with a bunch of madmen? True, the accomodations look nice, but when, after too many 7&7s, Mac Owens has got you in a headlock, Victor Davis Hanson is grinding his crotch against a broom-handle in emulation of Jim Morrison while bellowing Catullus, and Jonah Goldberg insists on "running some Liberal Fascism chapters by you" (i.e., farting uncontrollably), no cabin can possibly be large enough.
The reekage at InstaB-List is so rank even other wingnuts are noticing. Ann Althouse, we may be sure, is oblivious, being obviously high as a fucking kite approximately 100% of the time. (Her commenters, on the other hand and as evinced by this thread, seem to be surfing on methane fumes. My favorite: "BTW, Ann is not a conservative. Most who characterize her as that display their own liberalism.")
But Professor Althouse is still a piker when it comes to self-unawareness. Yesterday Jim Lileks actually complained about a newspaper writer who, he judged, was making too much of dogs dressed in sweaters. Jim Lileks! And mere paragraphs after he had sternly parsed the music selection at Starbucks!
I leave you with Fred Thompson denouncing Gandhi. Next week, Thompson takes on that faggot Jesus.
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