Monthly Archive for September, 2006

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The art and science of politics™

We will disregard for now the use of such a pompous tagline for a web log by other pompous non-us entities, except to say you won’t find us arguing that since we are reasonable sometimes this excuses when we are unreasonable. Instead we would argue that since we are unreasonable a lot, this excuses when we are reasonable (if we ever are).

Thus, without further ‘baggery, we would like to instill in our readers some art and science of politics, using both art AND science, for once and we would advise some cobags squatting on our tagline to take notice.

Given an American Publican individual such as below:

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Addition to such individual a substance or entity described variously as Terror Alert Cantaloupe in manner described as:

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“MELON GHOST!!!!!! OMG! OoooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooooo……..oooooooo
oooOOOOOOOOoooooooooooo ……oooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo
OOOOOOOOOO!!1″

There can be only one outcome:

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BEHOLD!

The luscious, juicy, pleasant floral, and incomparable fartymelon. I note for our melon aficianados and tres stupide emus that this wonderfully tasty melon is distinct from yucky sock melon and gross fart melon. Republic of Dogs is your place for fart melon bloggo. This melon tastes quite delicious to the taste buds in your mouth.

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My cheffy pants got all agitated and aflutter when I reaped the natural wisdom bestowed by this fartfruit, leading me to ponder its serving possibilities.

I decided I needed to plan a wonderfully tasty menu for the Veep, or Rummy, or Qu’emu/Edgar Winteresque idiot bloggers, or Vox Day should they ever shade my door with their looming beaver heads (the latter).

First course, breakfast for a day of clearing brush: Huge, heaping, crunchymunchy bowls of Capt. Crunch/or Crunchberries, not too much milk, served with a slotted serving spoon, extra large (it’s trendy, they do it in Japan).

Second course, lunchabuncha: Some crusty Freedom bread, super crustypants, for that hearty taste, maybe a slice of hard cheese. This is manly food for manly men.

Third course, appetizero: A nice bruschetta. Some extra toasted crostini with tomatoes and basil (just any old tomatoes from the grocery store, preferable New England in January). Maybe some extra triangular chips and unfortunately limey pico de gallo made with same tomatoes.

Fourth course: Salad, a strong and tart viniagrette over some sharp leafy baby spinach. With homemade, yumstery seasoned, honkin croutons.

Fifth course: Piping, molten, delicious french bread pizzas, with spicy tomato sauces and sauce. Yummy!

Sixth course: An extensive tasting course of impossibly dark and bitter luxury chocolate, possibly in Smore form, oh we only have these extra large graham crackers, and we must share two mini-mallows between us. Ow, don’t burn ourselves the chocolate is so hot and impossibly dark, what bitterness! We will perservere!

Seventh course: Since it is possible that the roofs of our mouths might desire some cool, delicious melon, here we have it. The melon from above. What a nice day it is out here in the deserted desert. No one around. Just a tiny little backpacker shovel to trowel up the hardpan should nature’s needs need naturing. Not that this delightful menu could even begin to repay these heros for the smiting they have given America’s great colon, but if you have a dream your dream needs to start somewhere, possibly with some impossibly dark chocolate.

Through the Looking Glass, Into the Drywall.

Click here, we’ve translated from the original emu. Could somebody please pull a Parrotline quick hit on these emus, Col. Sanders style? Check comments there if you want your brains attacked by a posse of per-like parsers.

UPDATE:

Ann Althouse said…

Garage Mahal: I love your screen name, but really, you’re such a damned prude. The visual world is important and how people present themselves is part of their message. Wearing a too-tight suit and sitting splayed about without regard to how your clothing is situated means something — especially if you are doing an important interview that millions will see. I am utterly committed to writing about such things. I’ll bet if I humorously described how Bush walks, gestures, and grimaces, you wouldn’t have a problem.

Yeah, but what about his MOOBS, Qu’emu?

I hear Capt. Trollypants laughing about UDDERLY COMMITED- SQUIRT! He’s such an a-hole.

In Response to Increasing Demand

We would like to introduce our readers to Three Bulls! Select. In these days of non-net neutrality, the riff-raff of the electronic frontiers may buzz about, flittering onto your 52 inch flat panel plasma monitors, accidently accessed by a random thought driving your thought mouse while on the computer in your yacht’s bathroom’s foyer/entertaining room. Wise investors who work hard and deserve yet are blessed with humongous piles of cash know that it is better to pay a little more for their surfing choices that be buffeted by the brownian motion of base public opinion. As of now, only a select few will be able to access this choice material that smart moms know kids love.

Three Bulls! would like to show you what has been going on behind this wall of safety….

Continue reading ‘In Response to Increasing Demand’

Oh, One More Thing:

1) Revolver is better than Sgt. Peppers, maybe because it was first but most likely because it is amazing (both are underrated because of backlash).

2) Animal Collective’s Feels is much superior to Sung Tongs, notwithstanding the excellent “Kids on Holiday.”

3) You may find your corner hipster contrarian emu claim that Radiohead’s The Bends is superior to OK Computer. This is false.

4) Additionally, there is little to separate Kid A from Amnesiac, both of which are superior to Hail to the Thief.

Discuss.

And for our fans:

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Set the controls for the heart of the sun

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Set the controls for the heart of the sun

Exercising the distinctively wayward judgment that is the foundation of his notoriety, Pinko has provided me with access to the broadcasting equipment at 3 Bulls! studios. I was going to use this opportunity to offer a tour of the studios for those curious as to what goes on here, but that turns out not to be such a good idea – at least for now.
Continue reading ‘Set the controls for the heart of the sun’

If the Bloggo Can Handle It

I am going to take a couple o’ days off. Feeling down right now, and misunderstood. Got lots of Hell-A stuff and some Chuckles Photo File stuff. Also, some more food thingies, a Justing Timberlake/Jonah Goldberg Celebrity Dream Cameo and some CRAZY Delicious and Disgustings in the pipeline. Doncha worries, kiddos.

Notes from the Road Trip

LA traffic- blows.

San Juan Capistrano- swallows.

N41ldz0rs!! ALL YOUR BLOG ARE MINE!

BRNDAN NYHAN 4 EVAR!

UPDATE: EAT IT

UPDATE: blahblahblahblahblahblahblahblah

UPDATE: Only a conspiracy can satisfactually explain why Chuckles has lost every job he has ever had! Just like BRENDAD (I WISH!!11)

UPDATE: HEARTS

UPDATE: I declare war on a. P must silence her liberal claptrap!!

Noodles

We made ‘em, Uncanny ate ‘em. Several condiments used in the preparation. Chilli oil, light and dark soy sauce, black vinegar, sesame paste. We would like Res Publica to top the simple, almost effortless elegance of this presentation. In honor of the Morsel Institute at Casa de Twisty.

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It May Take Awhile To Remember How To Work This Thing

but, I will regale you with the smells of the I-5.

a) Approximately 6 miles of open, sulfury a**hole. Whether ‘t’were porcine shenanigans trying to put us off our snorkel or more beefly renderings I know not.

b) 2 times 2 miles of strawberry yogurty stink (wtf???).

c) 10 miles of routine brushfiery smoke.

d) Some weird lavendary/fake mint-chocalte chip smell (did someone hide some of you know who’s whose poop don’t stink in the car?)