Dumber Than a Box of Rocks

*On the front page of Yahoo is a blurb about Anna Nicol Smith, titled, "Why We Cared About Her: She Persevered When Others Would Have Given Up." Oh, puh-lease. We've got soldiers risking life and limb in Iraq and this idiot Barbie doll is a hero? My left shoe is smarter than her. If you call a moth beating itself to death on a lightbulb "perseverance," then she had it in spades. Ugh.

Doodles, Now in Colour

'Been busy with this, by the way. An ongoing, learning, project. People are hard to draw.

Cheers, P.K.

Cockfighting is for Thugs

Made the mistake of peeking at the Albuquerque Journal (the local right wing rag, masquerading as journalism). Anyhoo, both Bill Richardson and the Catholic Church are supporting this year's attempt to ban cock fighting. And sadly no, despite the name, it isn't two well-oiled, naked men wrestling. It is the ritual evisceration of one rooster by another, in a ring, surrounded by society's worst excuses for humanity.

Anyhow, the article pulled out the usual malcontents, I mean supporters of cockfighting, who put forth the usual stunningly stupid arguments for the practice. E.g., it's a Hispanic tradition and attempts to ban it are racist. Ugh. Koudos to author Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez, who points out that it is no part of her tradition or her son's.

Another argument, from yet another mental midget, was that banning it would only drive it underground. I.e., "we're going to do it anyway." Ah, way to go, dipshit. Proclaim that you plan on breaking the law. Rather in keeping with the demographic, I'd say. After all, supporters of cockfighting invariably look like familiar faces on Most Wanted Posters or from a Perp Walk on the evening news.

The Jiff award--It's the Nuttiest!--award goes to some representative from some armpit corner of New Mexico. Banning cockfighting, he argues, would lead to banning rodeos, hunting and fishing. If this asshat would stop sipping the wacky Cool Aid, he might notice that in every state where cockfighting is illegal, hunting, rodeos and fishing are still flourishing.

This of course, is the same twisty, wingnut logic that states that "If we let Teh Gays marry, what next? People will be marrying animals." Er, no sorry Bubba, although, there's not telling what you twits in those lonely corners of New Mexico are shagging. Slap a Toby Keith CD in the player and get bizy with the livestock, eh?

Anyway, methinks I need to get on the ball and write an email to the Governor (i.e., he who wants to be the next Preznit, but, hey why not, at least he's not teh sHrillary.)(/rant off)

Cheers, P.K.

Look Ma, No Bluegrass

Because, if you are going to smack down the idiots, you should provide proof.
Lush landscaping using water-thrifty, flowering plants. Click the "Read More" for flower pictures.











P.K.

Wingnuts With Businesses, Part Deux

Despite less than eight inches of rain a year, Albuquerque, New Mexico can grow some big wingnuts. Case in point, the owner of StoneGate Turfgrass Ranch, who claims that Albuquerque is as wet as the tropics. Who knew? StoneGate makes their case with a full page ad in a local shoppers' guide.

Note: The following was typed exactly as seen in the ad, including all grammatical and punctuation errors.

Several weeks ago the city of Albuquerque (read that as, "people whom we voted into office to protect our rights?") imposed water restriction on the use of water..."Watering lawns?"

While I read the frequent use of exclamation points (!) as "long-winded, unhinged, anti-environmentalist rant herein."

The program works something like this...water only on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday...any other day caught watering and your neighbor is encouraged to report your actions to the authorities. Sounds a lot like that book "1984!"

"Sounds a lot like that book 1984." Meaning this nut actually read a book? What do you bet this twit thinks the Patriot Act, which infringes on numerous civil liberties, is just nifty. Hypocrisy, much?

"The program works something like this..." Well, that's exactly how it works. People are supposed to water on alternate days depending on their address.

Was the program devised to save water? (For what and for whom?)

For whom? Well, your children and grandchildren, for starters.

Well, little did the politicians know, but watering 3-4 days per week is adequate to maintain a lush and healthy landscape!

Whee! Another exclamation point. Uh, I think the politicians do know that watering 3-4 days per week is adequate. Hence the schedule.

All one needs to do is water twice as long on the appropriate days.

In other words, there are ways around the law. I thought wingnuts were all about "The Rule of Law." At any rate, by planting the right kinds of plants (not bluegrass lawn), you can water less and have a healthy, lush landscape. (See any of my garden photos on this blog.)

Actually, after the water restrictions are lifted one would do well to continue the 3-4 day watering schedule...forget about saving water...save $ on your water bill.

"...forget about saving water..." In other words, fuck the environment, because we're all gonna be Raptured soon anyway.

And I love the wingnut logic. "...save $ on your water bill." If you are watering every other day, but twice as long, you are using the same amount of water, hence your water bill will not decrease. It seems, the writer paid as little attention in math class as he did in English.

The water restriction progam was really aimed at hurting the property owner with an investment in their landscape...those who truly care about property values...those who pay the most taxes...

Because City Council is made up of meany-beanies who hate rich people. Oh, the plight of the rich.

...those who want to improve our quality of life

Because my neighbor's enormous expanse of water-slurping lawn will save the world. I mean, really, all that water dumped on a lawn in the desert will somehow offset all the bad karma in the world, the Middle East will find peace, hungry children will be fed, the poor shall overcome.

Oh, wait, that might hurt the rich. Scratch that. Fuck the environment!

...those who help make Albuquerque a nice place to live.

Once again, the Lawn Ranger rides to Albuquerque's rescue.

(And for the love of God, use commas instead of ellipses when making a list.)

A water restriction program is designed to scare people into believeing that we have a water shortage; which is miles from the actual truth.

Albuquerque is a tropic rain forest. See all the trees and the verdant native vegetation? No, of course not. Dipshit, because Albuquerque is located in a desert.

Rejoice...as of this date we have no deficit in our average annual rainfall...we will survive!

"We will survive." Thank you Donna Summer. Little issues (scary science stuff) like inadequate winter precipitation for the last two years escape this moron. Ever heard of snowpack? Guess not.

A mind is a terrible thing to waste on a wingnut.

P.K.

Wingnuts With Businesses, Part One

Well, at least they are contributing to the economy. Unfortunately, they're also contributing to bigotry and stupidity.

Found in my email this morning:
From one Troy Hake, President of Outside Pride, Inc. (garden product company)
It begins...

"I know the vast majority of you will agree with me as all polls indicate. We are the majority, not the minority as the liberal media would lead you to believe."

Beep! Beep! Beep! Conservative happy-phrase "liberal media" spotted. Verbal wanking on the horizon.

"My wife and I sat down to watch television the other night with our children."

The chillllldren!

"Cold Case was on which is normally a fairly enjoyable show to watch; however, the last half hour of the show dealt with a young man who wished he had asked his male friend to come with him (long story short). The show ended with the two men hugging and obvious intimation they had discovered their gay feelings towards each other."

"Obvious intimation." Meaning what, pray tell? Rubbing of trouser weasels or...a Joe Lieberman/George W. Bush style kissy-poo?

"The very next show was Without A Trace The whole last half hour of this show was about two lesbians who were struggling with their feelings of lesbianism. It ended with full acceptance from one father and the two lesbians making out. Yes, they were kissing right at the end of the show on public prime time television. So much for wholesome family television."

OMG! [Faints dead away from shock induced by hot, lesbian imagery.] Define "family," dipshit. For a lesbian family--yes, they do exist--there ain't nothing wrong with a lesbian kiss. And by the way, lots of homo-bigot, good ole boys like yourself, have a closet full of lesbian porn.

Oh. That's the problem, eh? Seeing that girl on girl action made you all tight in the crotch, right there on the couch, surrounded by The Chillldren.

"Now, I am NOT trying to bash homosexuals and I am not a bigot; however, I feel homosexuality is morally wrong and should not be "promoted" as what is the norm for society."

Ever notice how Simon Cowell of "American Idol" begins his nastiest screes by saying, "I don't mean to be rude, but..."?

For funsies, let's run Mr. Hake's comment through a time machine, back a few decades. "Now, I am NOT trying to bash Blacks and I am not a bigot; however, I feel racial intermarriage is morally wrong and should not be 'promoted' as what is the norm for society." Hmmm.

"Text books are being rewritten as I am writing this to "highlight" every homosexual who has made a contribution to society."

OMG! Gays in history. Next thing you know they'll be teaching children that Blacks, Hispanics and other minorities made a contribution to society. The outrage. What's a White, Christian, bigot to do? [/snark]

"History is being rewritten to promote homosexuality and prime time television is doing its best to make homosexuality a "normal" behavior."

We should only rewrite history to conform to a White, Christian bigot point of view. [/snark]

"If homosexuality was the norm, civilization would have ceased to exist thousands of years ago. Procreation takes a man and a woman. There was Adam and then there was Eve, not Adam and Steve."

Really? Then who created Steve? Who created homosexuals? The devil? (Beep, wrong. Sorry, but according to your Bible, God is the only one who can create.)

Homosexuality has been around as long as there have been humans. (And many species of animals, for that matter.) To date, even with all them pesky gays and lesbians sharing oxygen with us heteros, the human race is populating the planet at a rapid rate.

"There are literally tens of thousand of you reading this email right now."

In other words, you're a spammer.

Mr. Hake asked that I go to CBS.com, click on the feedback button at the bottom of the page and make my opinion known. So I did just that and told CBS to keep up the good work.

P.K.

What About the Shilldren?

Especially the ones who are attached to breasts.

Seems a bunch of soccer mommies got their panties in a twist over the recent cover of Baby Talk because it depicts a, gasp, naked booby with a baby attached. Says one over-excited nitwit:

Another reader said she was "horrified" when she received the magazine and hoped that her husband hadn't laid eyes on it.

Why, pray tell? Because, after years of marriage to your saggy-tittied self, it's the first time he's seen a firm, plump breast? Does the idea of your man looking at another woman's titties embarrass you, honey? How old are you, twelve? Do boobies scare your husband? Wow. He must be a real winner in bed.

Some Americans are nuts.
P.K.

Greasy, Gooey, Celebrity Guts

Oh, now this is priceless. I love the way his arms and legs go flying through Outer Space. Go Darth Vader!

Matthew McConaghy is one of those celeb guys who women are supposed to love. Hollywood slaps his smirking, pointy-chinned mug in every other movie. I loath the guy.

Another must-love guy I hate is Ty Pennington, the jittery host of the Extreme Home Makeover show. "But, women love him," sneers my husband. "Not this woman," says I.

What is up with his greasy, huge pored skin? My God, you could store Weapons of Mass Destruction in his pores. And the soul-patch, goatee thing? Ugh. Plus the guy is a bigger spazz than a two-year old on sugar. Crazy waves of hyperactive excitement radiate from his eyes like...well, just like Tom Cruise. And the budget for his hair gel must exceed the GNP of most third world countries.

Speaking of crazies: Mel Gibson is a anti-Semite and not a terribly subtle one. In Vino Veritas and all that.

The hubby and I were watching Access Hollywood (because the remote was across the room and neither could muster the energy to go get it). As expected, the coverage was all Mel, all the time.

The featured interviewee was a funny looking blond woman with eyes set too close together and thin, arching, painted on eyebrows. She insisted that Mel, at the booze-fest that preceeded the arrest, was "really nice" and she couldn't believe the same person acted so badly. Blink, blink, she stared into the camera, probably hoping some casting director would immediately decided she was the one person who could play the plucky heroine in an upcoming blockbuster.

Well, of course he was "nice," you ninny. You were kissing his ass (and anything else he left unattended), and were not trying to arrest him.

In local news...regarding recent rainfall, one of our weathermen was heard to say:

"It's hard to believe so much water could come from clouds."

Alas, science education in this country has hit an all-time low.

But, hey, IT'S FRIDAY.
P.K.

Pondering

Flotsom and jetsom floating around my mind today.

How do wingnut fundies work the whole in vitro fertilization thing?

I mean, in the sex-obsessed culture of fundies, masturbation is a bad, bad thing. But in order to get all those little sperms into a cup, Big Daddy wingnut has to take a Playboy and retreat to the bathroom to spank the weasel.

Is there a "no wanking except in the case of in vitro fertilization" clause in the Bible?

"Oh, Kirby, once again you don't get it. The Bible is a living document that is interpreted to reflect the times."

Huh. Really? So why the obsession with the whole Leviticus, gay thing then? Still adhering to a strict interpretation of that bit of their living document, eh?

Hypocrites...

**
Busy weekend ahead, my mother is coming for a visit and the inlaws are also dropping in. Parental units everywhere.

P.K.

Snowflake Moron

Mahvelous
This was great, especially...

Or when Snow's boss [Bush], that tough-talkin', crumb-spittin', neck-rubbin'
international buckaroo, uses the first veto of his presidential career and then
hides behind children while maundering incoherently about a "moral line" as
though he'd recognize one if he fell over it. Is there any doubt that, if this
guy got Parkinson's Disease, he'd eat those little buggers out of the petri dish
with a spoon, probably dribbling some of them on Tony Blair in the process?

And WTF is a snowflake baby? Judging from the ethic composition of said chillens, that means "white."

Ugh. Stupidest President Ever.

Like a Kirby

Vacuum, that is.

Was recently thinking about bad movies again. I mean bad as defined by me, not some critic, which means some of the movies I hate are loved by critics.

"Bad" also means "took itself way too seriously" for such a crapfest. I.e., I love a bad movie that "knows" it's bad (B-movies). Anyway, this lead me to "bad" scenes. Usually, there's a defining scene in a bad movie, that pinnacle of crapitude, where I realize this travesty will be seared into my eyeballs for years to come.

Most often, it's recently viewed movies and scenes that come to mind. But after reading a posting about bad A-lister movies, I was reminded of Tom Cruise's (1992) schmaltz-fest, Far and Away.

In that case, the bad scene was the last scene. Mercifully, I don't remember the rest of the movie, except that it consisted of Tom Cruise acting like...Tom Cruise affecting a crappy, Lucky Charms, leprechaun Irish accent.

In the finale, Cruise and then main squeeze Nicole Kidman (really Nicole, you could do better), are participating in a homesteading land rush. Essentially, someone fires a pistol and a bunch of desperate settlers rush out across the landscape to claim their slice of heaven. It made no sense, whatsoever.

Cruise climbs aboard his horse (poor animal) and starts to gallop over hill and dale. Uh-huh. Except, the animal isn't moving at more than a slow lope. My grandma and her walker could move faster. (Well, my grandma's dead, but she can still move faster.) I 'spose Cruise was too valuable to be allowed to really gallop. To make it look like he's galloping, Cruise flaps his arms like a chicken. The horse looks really irritated.

All the extras run...really slow. Cuz they gotta let him win, doncha know?

At this point, blood started to splurt from my eyes like a horned toad.

Movie highlight: Somebody, I can't remember who, but bless his heart, somebody shoots and kills Cruise's character*.

I cheered.

Happy Friday. (Previous two posts contain garden photos for Mom or any curious onlookers.)
P.K.

(*If I'm remembering incorrectly, if he doesn't die, I don't want to know. As far as I'm concerned that guy is feeding the worms. It makes me happy.)

Desert Rain

Makes me think of the Sting song...
I dream of rain,
I dream of gardens in the desert sand.

A rare overcast day in hell, I mean the desert southwest. I hate taking pictures on a sunny day. Blasted sun bleaches away all the color and shadows.

Our little casa, rock garden in the foreground. "Click to zoom" and all that stuff.

Looking over the rock garden at the still not stuccoed adobe wall. Someday.

Summer Blooms in the Desert

Flowers for mom. First some liatris.


Then some Mexican Hats (prairie coneflower) with lavender.



Getting back in the habit of posting here.
P.K.