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Well, third time’s a charm! Finally, one of you people out of the several hundred MILLION worldwide who claim to be Obama supporters held an actual “talk about our nation’s ruined economy” party, complete with a creepy guest appearance by Tim Kaine’s eyebrow.
Wonkette home entertainment operative Karen writes:
About 25 folks showed up. We watched a little pep-talky video of Obama, then a barely tolerable video of Tim Kaine explaining the stimulus bill. The video was supposed to be 10 minutes long. It actually lasted an eternity. Next, we were supposed to ask everyone to “share their personal stories, particularly how they pertain to the current economic situation.” We said, “fuck that — too depressing,” and decided to invite an economist to explain the damn bill to us instead. Which was actually helpful! People asked questions, said “uh-huh” a lot, said they’d call Chuck Grassley. There were cookies and cocoa, and (thank God) someone brought some WINE, because the best answer to this economy is to drink. The end.
Well put!
God willing, this will be the last stimulus party report on earth.
Wine? You mean that Hobo Franzia Urinal-in-a-Box?
Servo:
Chuck Grassley? This must have been an Iowa stimulus party so they were probably drinking corn wine.
The people at this party must be doing pretty good for themselves, drinking elitist wine. In this current economy, all I can afford is a shitty bottle of Blue Wave to drown my sorrows in.
I’m tellin’ you, Mad Dog 2020, the drink of the peeples…
Monsieur Grumpe: Finally, a use for ethanol.
Happy Plimsoll Day, you cynical buggers.
“He is not a clever man, he is a poor speaker and a feeble writer, but he has a big good heart, and with the untutored utterings of that he has stirred even the most indifferent.”
So, there was no “stimulatin’” going on at the party?
America is a nation of whiners. As long as you’ve got a kidney, you’ve got assets that can be converted into cash. So don’t talk to me until you’re lying in a hospital bed with an 8″ scar running up your back.
At what point did all of the men put their car keys in a bowl so that the women could randomly choose an auto to… ahem… test drive?
Would it be unkind to wish a plague of lice upon Chuck Grassley’s hair? The xenophobic little pissant deserves it.
Whoever brought the wine gets it. A box of wine, a copy of Debbie Does Elkhart and a 10-15 minutes of privacy; let the stimulating begin!
Off topic, David Denby is on New Hampshire Public Radio, 89.1 FM, this very moment, and holy crap, what a flailing dimwit.
Summary: Snark is bad. Being mean is bad. But not if you’re mean in a way that’s new. But it is bad if you’re mean in a way that’s parasitic and lazy. Hypocrisy is bad. Attacking people is bad. Mark Twain attacking people is okay, because ramble ramble ramble. Maureen Dowd bad. Maureen Dowd brilliant. Attacking old people is bad. Attacking “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” because it appeals to old people (which this douchebag did) is fine. Sleeping with a college classmate and then writing anonymously about her is bad, and could involve snark, therefore snark is OMG the most horrible thing ever.
Summary summary: Snark, a horrible thing that is destroying our culture, is any disrespectful humor which places a hair athwart the delicate pink sphincter of one Mr. David Denby.
To her credit, Laura Knoy, the host, seems to realize that she’s dealing with someone who is utterly without a coherent argument about anything, and in her own polite, snarkless way is pressing him on that very point.
“I am known, honest to god, as one of the least snarky of critics” — gah, what a moron.
I’m amused and dismayed that following this article is an ad for how to check your credit report. I’m on the brink of losing a house right now and jittery about getting laid off from a job that I hate where these stupid salespeople on the other side of the world are yelling at my boss about me, so that ad is just one more thing to make me feel like the universe is ganging up on me.
When I get home, I’m cracking open the first bottle of something fermented that I get my hands on. It’ll probably be either sloe gin or cooking sherry.
CthuNHu:
Seems that this Denby book tour is starting to remind me of the fail that was Spinal Tap’s 1982 US America Tour. Definitely a Twatwaffle of the Highest Order.
Larry McAwful:
Perhaps Wonkette should host a Whine for Wine Project. The contestant that submits the most depressing story for the week gets a bottle of donated wine.
Servo: I’m not sure if I’d win. This same morning, I got an email from someone I’ve been trying to get work with on a history documentary. I’m not sure if it’s going to work out, but it was a promising report. Fire and ice this morning. I’m cracking up one minute, I’m giddy the next.
I was hoping my brother-in-law would let me drive his car from Dallas to New York for him, but he’s hiring a service through his movers to do that so he doesn’t put 1700 more miles on it. I need a long car trip. Maybe I’ll steal a car and abandon it in Provo or someplace and take the Greyhound back home. (I guess the fact that I’m feeling enterprising is a good sign, right?)
Servo: That’s the best kind. You can drink and drink, and still have plenty for towmorrow, and you can buy pizza with the money you saved.
I thought that when Obama wanted us to have a stimulus party, he meant orgy. So I did that instead. Also.
Larry McAwful:
Maybe I’ll steal a car and abandon it in Provo or someplace and take the Greyhound back home.
Lar,
Chin up dude. Steal another car in Provo for the return trip, sink the bus ticket munnies into a fat bag of Canucki Hot House and a case of Dogfish 90 and enjoy the weekend!
puff.puff.puff.also
YOU PEOPLE ARE MAKING ME DEPRESSED. Everyone knows that the best way out of personal depression during hard economic times is to have MORE CHILDREN. LOTS OF CHILDREN. GIT ON IT. It’s good for the economy, I think, maybe. Also.
Theodorick Of York: A coworker of mine was approached by a couple of self-identifying “hippies” on in a train station in Arlington, Massachusetts last night. They had several pounds of weed with them and told him they could hook him up whenever he was interested. They handed him a business card, too. I’m sure the hippies would appreciate if they got a little more business thrown their way…
Larry McAwful: Wow. I…what to say. Jesus. While I admire the chutzpah of these enterprising hippies I’m not sure walking around with pounds of weed is necessarily the smartest thing to do. On the other hand, can you send along a copy of their business card?
hobospacejungle: “The Smart Hippies” would be a good name for a rock band.
jagorev: Shucks. Chuck isn’t so little.
“Mad Dog 2020, the drink of the peeples…”0
2020: The drink of the future!!
“The video was supposed to be 10 minutes long. It actually lasted an eternity.” Chuck Lorre was there!