In what is being hailed as a miracle, at least in teevee news copy, God sent a special message to a restaurant employee in the form of His name, in English, spelled out in the seeds of an eggplant. Here’s the breathless news of the miraculous apparition at Gino’s Restaurant in Baton Rouge:
Chef Jermarcus Brady couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “I saw a miraculous image formed by the seeds,” said Jermarcus Brady. “It spelled out the word God!” Chef Brady has many responsibilities, one being cutting, salting and sauteing eggplants.
“When you sliced into it, the pattern showed from the seeds that were forming in the inside the letters G-O-D as God,” said Brady. “I couldn’t think of anything. I just had to tell somebody to come look at it.”
And the story goes on, at length, about how inspirational this is. READ MORE »
Hi. I am a Jew. Are you? Great. Then you probably already understand what I have to say, but you’ll at least want to stick around for the dirty joke.* And if you’re not, you can stick around for the dirty joke too.
So. Let’s get a few facts out of the way first. American Jews are overwhelmingly liberal Democrats. That is just a simple, indisputable fact:
“Jews are among the most strongly liberal, Democratic groups in U.S. politics,” the Pew report said. “There are more than twice as many self-identified Jewish liberals as conservatives, while among the general public, this balance is nearly reversed. In addition, about seven-in-ten Jews identify with or lean toward the Democratic Party. Jews are more supportive of President Barack Obama than are most other religious groups. And about eight-in-ten Jews say homosexuality should be accepted by society.”
American Jews are also super into social justice-y things like gay rights and labor rights and reproductive rights and decriminalizing pot and lady rabbis. Hell, the majority of Jews don’t even consider policy toward Israel a major factor in their voting decisions. WEIRD, RIGHT?
Not that you’d know that, of course, since the media for some strange reason likes to give column inches and air time to the anomalous conservative Jews like Bill Kristol and David Brooks and Ben Shapiro. You know, the ones who like to write those ooooh-scary, clutch-your-pearls warnings that Jews are running scared from the Democratic Party and President Obama. Not so much, ACTUALLY.
Here’s Sean Hannity posing next to a machine gun on a Border Patrol boat on the Big River Rio Grande in Texas, or May-hee-co, or perhaps hundreds of miles up a river that snakes through the immigration war like a main circuit cable. But here he is, on the boat. “Never get out of the boat.” Absolutely goddamn right! Unless you were goin’ all the way… Rick Perry got off the boat. He split from the whole fuckin’ program. READ MORE »
Ghost Andrew Breitbart’s Internet Home For The Criminally Petulant has landed another hot scoopty-scoop today, following their masterful expose of Adidas-manufactured terrist prayer rugs. And that scoop? All those border children who are, eventually, released to family members in the United States while they wait for their George W. Bush-sanctioned due process, are allowed to fly on planes to meet those family members even though they don’t even have a drivers license or US passport. Because of how they are children. But! explains Breitbart, how do we know they are not Somali pirates in disguise? Like that one movie where the couple adopts the little girl, but she is actually 34 years old, and also a Yemeni bomber? That movie was scary.
Well, it’s just like the horror stories warned: Now that Obamacare has gone into effect, all the worst fears of the critics have come to pass: the government of Iraq is in danger of falling to Islamic radicals, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is blowing up, and terrorist soccer fans are swarming across the border. Oh, and the percentage of people with no health insurance has reached the lowest point ever recorded, and in California, the number of uninsured people has been reduced by half. So yeah, pretty much a total fiasco. READ MORE »
(We believe the credit for the above should go to @eastsidekate.)
Can you help Rick Perry, Wonkers? Hahaha, just kidding, of course you cannot. Rick Perry is beyond help, and also a picture of him has finally been snapped in which we do not want to Do It on him.
Send your creations to tips at wonkette dot com, along with some sort of subject heading that lets us know we will find inside your email a Blingeed or MS-painted picture of Rick Perry. Send them in by Monday, and Dok will choose a lucky winner for a tote bag or some shit. (The cups cost like 12 bucks to mail, fuck that.)
George Carlin, like Kurt Vonnegut and Isaac Asimov, is up in heaven now. And he is almost certainly looking down at New York City and preparing twenty minutes of standup for all his fellow atheist angels on this story: after three years of negotiations to name a street after him, “George Carlin Way” is finally a reality. And in a bureaucratic screwup, the section of West 121st Street that was renamed ended up being two blocks, not the single block that had been agreed upon, and so one of the addresses on that two-block stretch is the very Catholic church whose priests opposed honoring Carlin and had negotiated hard to not be on George Carlin Way. READ MORE »
Alert HNTP tipster Niki P. has reminded us July is not the dead zone of professional sports we claimed it was yesterday. Women play sports too, and seeing as it’s the 15th anniversary of Brandi Chastain scandalizing America by revealing her sports bra, we think it is appropriate to devote this session of Man Time to lady sports. SORRY WE WERE SEXIST AT YOU, LADY SPORTS.
We were a younger, more innocent nation back when the #USWNT won it all in 1999. Sure, we’d spent the previous couple years hearing graphic details about the Presidential peen, and the ’90s were the decade that made Pamela Anderson a household name, but when Chastain scored the winning penalty kick in the Women’s World Cup finals, she ripped her shirt off in the kind of immodest expression of ecstasy we yearn to see in our male athletes (unless the athlete is Richard Sherman, but that’s a different story for a different day).
Looks like our arrogant Marie Antoinette the 14th President has gone and lorded it over We The People again, cutting into line at a famous Austin barbeque joint instead of going to the end like he’s supposed to. At Franklin Barbeque, where lines often run three to five hours long, the Imperial President said to hell with common decency as if he were a king or a pope or a good president, and just barged right on in:
It is no secret that we are totally gay for Rachel Maddow, who thinks that Yr. Wonkette is “profane and wonderful.” And Thursday she was in Full Nerdgirl mode, geeking out over newly-discovered audiotapes from Richard Nixon’s infamous Oval Office recording trove. But in these 1971 recordings, Nixon’s not plotting to cover up Watergate or fulminating about his enemies. Instead, these tapes captured the President having a philosophical chat with Henry Kissinger and H.R. Haldeman about “the gay thing” Nixon insists he’s very tolerant, understands that “They’re born that way,” and then goes on to explain,
By God, I am not going to have a situation where we pass along a law indicating, “Well, now, kids, just go out and be gay.” They can do it. Just leave them alone. That’s a lifestyle I don’t want to touch…
We’re always secretly happy when some Democrat does something especially stupid, because then we can write about it and beat back the ceaseless tide of “wahhhhhhhh Wonkette only makes fun of Republicans wahhhhhhh” that we have to deal with daily. Because of that, we’re pretty excited to meet Estakio Beltran, who is running for Congress in a super-conservative part of Washington state in which he likely has no chance at all, which is perhaps why he released this doofus-y ad in which he cruelly murders a pinata.
The long Fourth of July weekend had come and gone. All across the country, proud Americans participated in the great traditions of the holiday: cookouts, boating while drunk, blowing their fingers off with illegal fireworks, to name a few. But not Sister Peggy Noonan of the Order of 2-For-1 Happy Hours. Her Fourth was spent holed up in her tastefully decorated pied a terre high above the teeming streets of Manhattan. Teeming…with the hordes of filthy migrant children invading America like locusts sweeping across Egypt in the Old Testament. Okay, maybe they weren’t in Manhattan yet. Maybe they were thousands of miles away in the Southwest. But still, it wouldn’t be long…
“Meesus Noonan?” The heavily Spanish-accented voice echoed from the dark hallway outside her sitting-room. Peggy screamed and pushed up from her desk, almost spilling the last dregs of the emergency gin bottle she had dug out of her Mexican Apocalypse kit. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was only Manuel, her house-boy. What was he doing here? She had given him the weekend off. Then she remembered: it was Monday. The weekend was over. She had survived. But it got her thinking. How many other proud Americans had spent their holiday holed up like she had, bravely preparing to fend off the soiled, dark-skinned ragamuffins who spell the end of America as we know it? READ MORE »
Are you one of those people that yammer on and on about how we don’t need unions, because pull self up bootstraps communists something something? If so, you are probably reading the wrong internet publication, friend, unless you’re hate-reading, in which case please feel free to email Dok Zoom some derp after you’re done reading this. For the rest of you, come join us in being pissed as fuck about this bullshit company that limits workers to six minutes per day for bathroom breaks because apparently they really needed to go above and beyond, worker humiliation-wise. Damn straight their union complained.
On the one hand, we’re dreading the next four months because we’re headed into peak silly season for state and national elections and there will be so very much dumb politicking rammed down our throats. On the other hand, we write a political humor mommyblog warblog, and ridiculous things done by ridiculous political people is sort of our bread and butter. So, we’re grateful, sort of, for Minnesota House of Representatives candidate Bob Frey, who has some very interesting, and very confused, ideas about how babies are made and also too about AIDS. SPOILER ALERT: He’s pretty sure it is all about enzymes somehow.
Hi, it’s me, your Editrix! How are you? TERRIBLE? Are you TERRIBLE because we have soooo many ugly ads on this page, and they are ugly?
Fuck dudes, that sucks, and I am sorry.
NOW CAN YOU PLEASE STOP YELLING AT ME ABOUT THE ADS. Go click on Breitbart, or Daily Caller, or even our pals at LittleGreenFootballs. They have popups that when you close them pop up another popup! Do I do that to you? I DO NOT. (I don’t think.)
Here is a secret, which I will tell you because I am not good at “secrets.” This mommyblog actually takes about $18,000 a month to run.
WHAT? AM I KIDDING YOU? No I am not kidding you.
(Okay, that includes Happy.)
And you, the loving, beneficent, charitable, generous Wonker, give us several thousand dollars a month to help out. You guys, that is so awesome. Thank you dearly. It actually averages out to almost 50 thousand dollars a year, which pays for Dok and … it pays for Dok. What would I do without Dok? I WOULD DIE, THAT IS WHAT I WOULD DO. Thank you for buying me Dok you guys. I love you.
You wanna know something else? That $18 thousand per month does not actually include any salary for me! Whoa, right? Maybe I should redo the math. Nope! Definitely $18 thousand a month! Holy fuckballs!
This means, unless I want to charge you all some kind of dumb bullshit paywall (which would be dumb, and bullshit), I have to sell ads.
So many, many ads. So many ugly, bullshit ads. A lot of the time (hopefully even most of the time, hahaha just kidding, these ads are so terrible) there’s a little “x” on the ad that will help you close it out. Just FYI. Some of them (many of them) autoplay when they are NOT SUPPOSED TO AUTOPLAY. Some of them (many of them) freeze the fuck out of your browser. Or maybe it is that spot.im thingie, which is not an ad, it is a toy I got, for you, because I love you. Or maybe it is … something else? WHO KNOWS I AM NOT THE QUEEN OF I.T.
Maybe, after Shy does the redesign — DON’T WORRY, YOU’ll HATE IT — he can work on making an ad-free version for subscribers, OR MAYBE NOT. Until then, kindly pony the fuck up and shut your goddamn faceholes. Remember, you cannot be president of the United States if you don’t have faith. Lincoln, going to his knees in times of trial and the Civil War and all that stuff. You can’t be. And we are blessed. So don’t feel sorry for — don’t cry for me, Argentina. Message: I care.