Columbia Heights: Where white hipsters can watch from a comfortable distance as low-income minorities are murdered. This is what scholars call the “two cities” problem. [Why I Hate DC]
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That hippie Obama family will set a fine example for America’s subsistence farmers by filling in a patch of dirt on the White House lawn with horse poop and bugs. Inside this hell-mound, they will grow warty vegetables for rabbits and worms to feast on before they are ripped half-rotten from the earth and land, unwashed, in an elite arugula salad. In conclusion, organic gardening is an offense against God. [Sara's NBC gig]

Here’s a political ad from a lobbying group which was REFUSED by the evil SUPER BOWL TV, so it’s of Great Interest to your Wonkette, which is all about politics, and hot models fucking broccoli, for freedom. [PETA]

While there’s widespread concern about the age and possible infirmity of John McCain, who is running for President despite being 107 years old, less has been said about the apparent early-onset dementia of his younger, more rat-like opponent, Rudolph Giuliani.

Rudy has apparently lost his mind, if his responses to routine questions about Terri Schiavo (remember her? Rudy doesn’t!) are any indication.

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* We’re on our way back to the top — murder capital, babies! [Prince of Petworth]
* DCist Exposed Photography Show begins today at the Warehouse, opening party at 6:30PM. [DCeiver]
* If you need a ride home after the show, consider a ride-along. [Life in Mount Vernon Square]
* Nasty ass U Street pet store finally goes out of business. With luck, Results with expand. [Metroblogging DC]
* Are you helping the environment if you drive seven miles to get organic produce? [vegetables for breakfast]

Yesterday at the supermarket, while wondering at the price they’re asking for red peppers, we were surprised to see President George Bush making like he was examining the zucchinis. He really wasn’t about to buy the courgettes, but pretending to do so gave him cover for sidling up to the other shoppers.

It’s easier to strike up a conversation with somebody picking out a head of romaine if you seem to be doing the same with the squash. The other shoppers weren’t having any of it, however. The President would sidle up to a woman looking over the chicory, and she would move down to the celery. He came after her at the celery and she scooted over to the radishes.

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