fa·scis·tic /fəˈʃɪstɪk/ [fuh-shis-tik] of or like fascism or fascists.
I don't know what it is with these idiots. I go out drinking with them dutifully every Thursday, and yet they accuse me of making up words. You'd think a bunch of neo-Marxist Democrats would have heard of the word "fascistic". You'd think they'd have used the word themselves numerous times in their rants about Bushilter. But then again, I'm not sure Air America even airs in the Fort TomCollins area.
Just to be fair, it's not obvious that the whole lot is a bunch of neo-Marxist Democrats. Back in San Schmose, the whole fat camp lot was. Except maybe the foreign guy. I'm not sure they officially let foreign nationals register to vote so as to be Democrats in California. Not unless you're the right kind of foreign, i.e., you don't have an education or any hope of a decent job or speak any English. Then you can register to vote all you want.
It's possible, for instance, that the Hamburgler is not a Democrat. And possibly El Torrito. The rest of the lot sure as hell is, though.
I was talking to Tinfoil today via IM, the deployment of which probably is responsible for $10 of the lost of value of The Company's stock, and he actually said this to me, "I need to drink more."
Yes, well, so do a lot of people. But the real leaders step up to the plate and do it. The others just talk about it. I'll follow-up next week to see if Tinfoil a leader or a talker be.
CJ is only allowed to Fat Camp once a month now, word has it.
Discovered that Cavitation is a mommyblogger! Only his blog seems to be about last week's Giants loss to the Titans cuz the guy didn't tackle the quarterback. And in his one and only post (oddly titled "Friggin' G-Men"), he made reference to me, CherkyB. If he could slip in a couple shots at The JohnnyB and then let me rename his blog, he has a shot at being the next Blog of the Week. (A title still held by Rhonda, since you keep the title until displaced.) If not, he'll remain on the watch list. But at least we'll all get to make fun of his momospherism. I'm not going to post a link, but I'm sure you can find it if you need to [nudge nudge wink wink].
I got to go to one of those "parent" things after work today. It was performance day at dance class, and what this entails is the kids dressing up in performance-like garb (which as far as I can tell means HannieC wears a tutu in addition to her leotard), and then having a normal dance class for the first 45 minutes where they practice their performance piece with all the parents watching, then they officially perform the piece twice in a row (roughly 1 minute long each time) with all the parents watching, and then they play freeze-dance for 5 minutes with all the parents watching (praying that this is the end), and then they do some other stupid game with all the parents watching (and praying), then they have cookies (amen). MaxieC got to participate in the freeze dance. I got to spend most of the time out in the playroom with him, with him bored out of his skull.
See, The Mrs. had handed me this big bag and said, "I brought lots of stuff for MaxieC to do for when he gets bored." But all she brought was books. Lots of books. One was a coloring book, but MaxieC didn't want to color. One was a Crayola Magic Finger Painting book, but MaxieC didn't want to finger paint. Everything else was a reading book, and he didn't want to read a book. I dug and dug and found a yo-yo. MaxieC is much too little to yo-yo, but I stood him up on a chair and tried to teach him. He had fun for about 2 minutes. Then he demanded "something to play with".
Luckily, a little girl about MaxieC's age showed up with a toy barn, a horse, a lion, and a unicorn. She sat at the little table, so MaxieC started running in circles around the table. Circling his prey? She looked at me and said, "He's running around the table."
"I want him to play with me."
Hey MaxieC, why don't you play with this little girl?
He sat down on the other side of the table. She handed him the lion and said, "See this black spot. I drew this on it. Then my daddy yelled at me and I cried and he sent me to bed. It wasn't fair."
MaxieC did not respond. Good boy. Don't let them draw you in to their little victimization mind-games.
Then she started talking about her unicorn. She said, "This horse has this funny bump on its head. I don't know why, but it doesn't come off. It's stuck there."
MaxieC said, "That's a unicorn, not a horse."
The girl said, "I don't know what this bump is."
MaxieC said, "That's a horn. It's a unicorn, not a horse."
She said, "It's the baby horse."
Then MaxieC looks at me as if to say, "Jesus H., pops, this place is lousy with Democrats." Then he looks the girl straight in the eye and goes, "It's the sister, not the baby."
I'm still glad he didn't just say, "It's your momma."
On the way home from dance, HannieC rode with me. She was very excited as she found one nail and many nail holes in the mantel over the fambly room fireplace, and she wanted to move the Christmas stocking in there. Except we'd also have to move the Christmas tree. Then she was very concerned that Santa might come down the wrong chimney, as he was clearly used to coming down the fambly room chimney, and we were putting our stockings in the living room (having four fireplaces is problematic for the Santa thing). Then she was concerned that we were just laying our stocking on the floor, and Santa might not see them and accidentally step on them and get them all sooty if he came down the chimney feet first. She was also very concerned that Santa couldn't get in through our fireplaces, as they are gas fireplaces that have a fixed glass panel across the front. Man, the lies you are forced to make up on the fly for this Santa business, it's starting to really weigh on my conscience. She better figure this out soon, or I'll crack.
I'll probably at some point have to tell her that "Democrat" is not a synonym for "moron", but is actually a synonym for "self-hating megalomaniac". But let the little kid have her dreams, right?