The Senate Judiciary Committee continued the lengthy and well loved tradition of issuing subpoenas to the president and everyone else involved in the Executive Branch of our government, this time it happens to be over the warrant-less N.S.A. wiretaps. I'm sure this appears to be a triumph to everyone that mindlessly rallies against the current administration, but may I remind you that it is his second term, and nothing-truly nothing-will come of these subpoenas. The Executive Office has built a tower so remarkably high that even the highest waves of an angry populous appear to be only minor swells. If Nixon were alive he would have a throbbing erection at seeing how untouchable the President has become. Hell, maybe even his corpse has a hard-on.
So, you ask, what did I do? I got drunk and watched a rerun of Larry King's interview with Paris Hilton. She would make a good politician in the modern political arena, she probably gives good head and is a lying fuck. (you can take that as a pun if you like.) Is that all it takes anymore? No, I am most definitely simplifying.
Clouds loomed overhead and around noon the heavens loosed a hellish down-pour. Because of this I was inside today staring out the rain-streaked windows pondering how to remedy ANY of the current social/political mishaps: I settled on the familiar I don't know. Even if I was clever enough to come up with a workable solution, I doubt anyone would listen.
I then decided not to dwell upon such depressing matters and read all about the musical instrument the theremin, created by the Russian inventor Leon Theremin in 1919.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment