Gabs Blabs

These are not the droids ... um ... er

Cheney the Changling. Our Vice President wants to abolish his office and designate himself as an untouchable fourth branch of the government, an anomaly, a rare jackass that can't breed with any type of politics. Who saw that one coming? Apparently not the Information Security Oversight Office, when they asked him for documents for the last four years.

Has his heart medication gone to his brain? Did he forget his grade school lesson about the Vice President being part of the executive branch? Or, did he forget that he IS the Vice President? What's next? Will he consider himself the New and Improved Mark Foley, ordering around hand jobs?

Apparently, he knows his ass will soon be in hot water, and has decided to stall for time by creating a fourth branch of government? And, by the way, when was this fourth branch of government created? Is this just something that President Monkey recently signed?

It couldn't have been signed before 2001, because back then, Cheney claimed himself part of the executive branch to protect himself from a congressional probe into his energy task force ... ahem ... Haliburton ... cough, cough.

So, now our Vice President has just made himself the surreal entity that can just jump back and forth, over the line between executive branch and head of the Senate as it suits his big wide fancy. He's here. Now he's over there. Oh, now's he gone duck hunting? WTF?

All of this is so weird that it's beginning to play out like some bizarre Monty Pythonesqe political version of Star Wars, where Cheney waives his right hand over the Information Security Oversight Office and said, "These are not the records you are looking for."

This country needs some serious help.

The Perfect Father's Day Gift

As Father’s Day approaches us moms at the rate of a speeding commuter train while, metaphorically speaking, T-ball, soccer practice and laundry tie us down to the tracks of life, our heads begin spinning with the question: What should the kids buy for Father’s Day?

This year I tried to remember Father’s Day, to no avail. After celebrating this patriarchal holiday during Labor Day last year, I spent a great deal of time putting Father’s Day reminders on my Treo for bi-weekly intervals, starting January 1. This worked out perfectly for the first three months. As my phone rang with the reminder, I would pick it up and pretend that Santa was on the phone. The kids would immediately stop fighting, with their fists in mid-swing, and listen intently as I tattled on my sons. However, amidst the chaos of kids and chores, I quickly forgot why I put the Father’s Day reminder on my Treo, and hence, deleted it.

So, Father’s Day is upon us. Since my imagination has run dry (the wine helps with that), I have decided to opt for The Tie.

This year I will educate my children about The Tie’s endless uses. First, I will explain to them that dads are extensive multi-taskers, sometimes to the point of stupidity. Dads can, simultaneously, talk on the phone with their boss, outline a department budget, quell a sibling fight on their cell phone, write a company memo and eat a sloppy McBurger, all while switching shoes and slipping on a pair of gym shorts from behind their desks. This is why dads are such messy eaters. Thus, when shopping, it is important to consider The Tie as an accessory AND as a bib. 

Second, I will explain that The Tie helps Dad with his late-afternoon job. The job starts out with a phone call to his other boss, the mom, to make sure that they are both “on the same page” - this is code for “Dad’s To Do List.” This list starts with a run to the grocery store for something gross like tofu. However, dads are smart. Knowing that tofu is on the dinner menu, dads compensate by also purchasing a bag of beef jerky, a super-sized chocolate bar, and a six-pack of root beer. This is just enough to hold him over while he drives to the pet store. The Tie, of course, serves as a napkin. Of course, the pet store is located at the other end of the county where they exclusively sell the only dog food that Spot can eat – the pretentious and expensive organic dog food that doesn’t render nights of listening to hacking and vomiting at the foot of the bed. Next, Dad makes a run to the pharmacy to pick up Mom’s birth control pills (this one is a definite priority!) and then drives off into the sunset, to pick up the kids at the after-school program. If the dad forgets about the pharmacy run, often he remembers it after loading the hungry, screaming kids into the family van. So, it is back to the pharmacy.

Keeping all of this in mind, I will teach my kids that The Tie should substitute as a Super Napkin Dad Cape. It should be the kind of Tie that flaps in the summer wind as Dad drives around in the minivan with the windows down, harkening back to his kid-less days when he drove a convertible sports car. You know, back when he smiled more.

Finally, as the family settles into the house, Dad’s night job begins while The Tie goes into transformer mode. Blood stains on the kid’s knee? Not a problem! Dad puts a little magic daddy spit on The Medical Tie and wipes it away! The daughter is dateless for the upcoming prom! The Super-Absorbent Tie is there to clean up the tears. The little one wants Dad to pretend he is a horse. The Magical Dad Tie doubles as horse reins. Then, after Dad takes off The Tie, the teen-age boy notices that it also serves as a Cool Headband Tie while doing air guitar. Uh oh, now there is dog puke on the floor.  No problem! With Dad’s Super Cleanup Tie and a lazy teenager, the floor is sparkling clean.

Thus, The Tie that my kids will pick out will work as the ultimate stain-lifter, provide hours of entertainment, spot clean floors and be super-absorbent for all those tears.

Something tells me, though, if I can’t get the kids to the mall to find The Tie, my husband will be perfectly content if I get the kids to bed early so that we can sneak away to the bedroom for a slice of pepperoni pizza with Casino Royale in the DVD player. For a surprise, I might even wear one of his old, clean ties (nudge, nudge, wink, wink).

CAUTION: Read when drunk

I've been tagged? Peggy Tibbetts, the wonderful author of "Rumors of War" tagged me with a MeMe. So, now I'm it.

As an "it" I have to post eight random facts/truths about myself. Get a drink and brace yourself.

1. I’m funnier than my husband. Although, he did have his friends rolling last night when he explained the following: “The reason why two of Gab’s ex-boyfriends went gay on her is because when she was in high-school, she was in the head start program for gays. You know, the Drama Club. She spent so many years in this head start program, that it broke her gaydar.” 

2. Fact number three: When I was dating my husband, I told him he wouldn’t be getting “any (nudge, nudge, wink, wink)” unless he voted Democrat. He quickly converted.

3. Fact number two: As a kid, I had a bloodhound dog named General Stonewall Jackson who sang to the harmonica. He could sing in English and in Polish.

4. I am 4’9”. This was a deliberate choice on my part. Yes, I chose to be 4’9” because I delight in bitching about the height of my kitchen cabinets.

5. When I was in high school, I worked at Orange Julius. None of my co-workers knew my dad. So, at night, at the end of my shift, my dad would walk in (dressed in his garage grubbies) and pretend to be a homeless drunk. He would say, “Hey, pretty lady, do you have any food to spare?” I would retort, “Listen, you stupid lazy man, get a job, get some money, and feed yourself. Now get outa here!” Ah, good times.

6. I can touch my nose with my tongue.

7. I’m with Peggy on wanting a new pet. I REALLY want a goat named Copernicus.   

8. I once delivered a Strip-O-Gram for Eastern Onion. It was a disaster. The man was very old, and, sadly, in a wheel chair. His family had a small dinner for him at his house. The mood was quiet – definitely not the setting for a Strip-O-Gram. I danced around the dining room for him and only stripped down to a negligee - I refused to take off more. The only response I got was a little bit of drool dripping from his mouth. When I finished, you could hear the crickets chirping outside. After my show, I thanked my blue-haired audience and walked out. The guy who hired me followed me out, and gave me a $100 tip. Not bad for making an old guy drool!

OK, so who’s next? Hmmm Paloma, Joe, Fran, Morgan, Michelle, Sean, and, hmmm (oh what the hell - why not) Mr. Dave Barry. Oops, that’s only seven. Oh well, fuzzy math.

Woman arrested for making faces at dog

Maybe she thought he was protecting the donuts. Or maybe it was a twitch.

Boy Shoots Wild Boar

Breaking News!

Jamison Stone killed a 1,000 pound, 10’7” pig! I am not talking about Rosie O’Donnell here. This boar roamed wild in Alabama. Yes, I am certain we are not talking about Rosie O’Donnell. I had my fact-checker, Tad Twang, make sure of that.

Stone is an 11-year-old boy who claims that he, single-handedly, did the deed of killing this boar with a Smith and Wesson 500. According to some, this would be the largest boar ever killed. (For the record, a third party has not corroborated Stone’s claims.) It took eight shots to kill Wilbur. Interesting, considering that the Model 500 only carries five rounds. What a precocious boy Stone is, that he can load a Model 500 with such speed. Dad must be proud!

All here who think this story is true, raise your right hand, and repeat after me, “I will not believe everything I read. I’m going to learn to think for myself.”

Stone’s dad posted viewer comments on monsterpig.com, which are quite fun to read. It just reaffirms my view that guns and religion do go together. For the record, I don’t own a gun. Pray for my soul.

Rhonda Shearer of StinkyJournalism.org has done some fact checking of her own. Through her own resources and the resources of StinkyJ, they believe that Stone’s father doctored the photos to garner media attention. Jeremy J. Miller says, “It must also be said that Rhonda Shearer, our publisher and director of ASRL who reported this story, appealed to the Stones before our report ran (and before their appearances on several national television programs) to talk openly about the case. She was very clear about the intent of her inquiries and asked for more evidence by which to evaluate their claim. Mr. Stone told her that other photos at the scene had been destroyed because they were “unflattering” to  him.”

Unflattering? You think so? Well, the site was painful on the eyes. No, it wasn’t because I was appalled at the mindless slaughtering of a pig that was minding his own business in his own “home.” Nor was Mr. Stone’s Web site difficult to view because of the disturbing images of a dad so proud of his gun-totin’ son. No, the most difficult part of the Web site was looking at an 11-year-old with a DOUBLE CHIN!

 

Ya know, instead of pork tonight, maybe the family should opt for the all-you-can-eat salad bar at Sizzler. I hear on Saturdays, they have entertainment. That’s right! It’s called Miss Sizzler Saturday Night. While you eat, you can watch the lovely, large ladies walk back and forth to the salad bar. And back and forth. And back and forth.

Now, how can I garner this kind of media attention?