The Polls Are Closed, the Winner is: Hell Yes

Well it’s official, bettyann’s “Capitalist Pig Sandwich” (proposed in her comment on Silver People) to be featured at The Laughing Lizard is: Hell Yes!

Anyway, back to the "Capitalist Pig Sandwich". I was thinking of a tender pork steak grilled crisp with black pepper and garlic, on a grilled (American) cheese panini bread sandwich. Then, we smother the pork steak with grilled onion, add some Swiss cheese in honor of a nation that openly carries guns!! Some fresh parsley smashed on top (because we like green!!), and then another grilled (American) cheese panini sandwich!!! All the oinions, hanging out, mind, like to say  
'we just don't give a rat's ass how messy this sandwich'.  
What do you think? Pretend it's a poll. 

The results (rounded to the nearest thousand) were certified by my crack accounting firm, Dewey, Cheathem and Howe, moments ago and by a more than 10 to 1 margin “Hell Yes” kicked butt:

1. Hell Yes – 58,000
2. Yes – 5,000

Artist rendering of a Pig sandwich – bettyann’s will be better 

So, will I be chowing down on one of bettyann’s

“Capitalist Pig Sandwiches”?

Hell Yes!

Re-runs of the Rock: Part 1 Update: this just in!

Because there’s actually very little going on around here – aside from fund raisers that we apparently weren’t invited to - and because nothing says summer like re-runs, I’m going to run some of my “footage” from last year’s visit to the island around the block again.

You won’t hardly be able to tell the difference: we’re picnicking (on the turd-free beach of Edgartown), golfing, we’re biking, we’re eating ice cream. And cookies. And fried clams/shrimp/calamari/fish. Even Lady M’s hair looks the same. So be a sport and play along.

Martha’s Vineyard, circa 2009

And honestly, aside from the untimely (for us, anyway) death of the ancient mariner, everything is pretty much the same as last year. Except worse, as you’ll see in episode 1,the Turd World. 

“Get a load of what this Fouad Ajami is writing about us in the Wall Street Journal today! I’m glad I’m only in charge of fashion spin, because there’s no way to polish up this turd:”

I also documented one of the country’s first infatuations with Lady M’s feet, with a photo of the questionable 6th toe (which was also Cripes Suzette’s first appearance here, although I didn’t even know it at the time, and blush to report that I was remiss in giving her proper attribution.)

In my defense, all I can say is I had just started my little blogging enterprise, and really didn’t know what I was doing. (Sorry Cripes, and thanks for bringing the Oprah toe to our attention, and not banning me from your site forever.) Anyway, the infamous sixth toe incident is  documented in “If the Shoe Fits. Or Not.”

 Cripes world-famous photo of Lady M’s world-famous “Oprah” toe

And of course there was the notorious “Black Dog Down,”  incident in the down town shopping district that I recapped in terrifying detail..

Thankfully, no one was hurt

I hope you enjoy our adventures from last year. I know some of my charter member MOL’s will remember them, but since many of you joined our little fifth column a bit further down the road, maybe you can just pretend these adventures happened this year (expect for the untimely death of the Ancient Mariner, which I’ll cover in my next batch of re-runs). If anything huge breaks big happens, I’ll get right back to you. Little Mo has little Mos scooting all over the island trying to get exclusive video like our Friday tennis entourage. We might be going to the fair later, but Lady M hasn’t decided yet.

Otherwise, have a nice Sunday afternoon.

UPDATE: FROM GRANNY JAN, HONORARY LITTLE Mo

Now you see the reason for the embargo?

Uncle Sam’s Evil Twin

Larwyn sent me this little Dr. Seussical poem that she thought you might like. I think it will lift your spirits while Lady M is chillin’ hers:

 

I DO NOT LIKE THIS UNCLE SAM

I do not like this Uncle Sam,

I do not like his health care scam.

I do not like those dirty crooks,

Or how they lie and cook the books.

I do not like when Congress steals,

I do not like their secret deals.

I do not like House Speaker Nan,

Nor do I like that ‘Yes, we can!’

I do not like the spending spree—-

Because I know that nothing’s free.

I do not like the O’s replies,

When I complain about his lies.

I do not like this kind of hope.

I do not like it. Nope, nope, nope!

 

I do not like ObamaCare,

As it will only raise the fare.

Obama will not save the day,

He’ll only scare the docs away.

And presidents should never bow;

Should we, could we, impeach him now?

I do not like Afghanistan,

Al-Qaeda or the Taliban.

But if we plan to win the fight

We need to fight with all our might.

We cannot tie our soldiers’ hands,

With wimpy generals in command,

And orders not to shoot to kill;

Of that I’ve simply had my fill.

I do not like that wife Michelle,

With eyebrows that came straight from Hell.

I do not like her attitude,

Or being lectured on my food.

A hypocrite she has become,

While flying ‘round on Air Force One.

I know that I don’t need first class,

‘Cause I don’t have that same wide ass.

I do not like that Biden guy,

But better that he’s drunk, not high.

And Jarrett, Axelrod, and Rahm,

To get their way would kill my mom.

I do not like Obama’s plan

To spend as quickly as he can.

To spend much more than we all have

Is just a temporary salve.

The bills we someday all must pay—

Not leave for just another day,

For grandkids that we leave behind,

Will always have our debt in mind.

O’s bloated budget we must cut,

To get out of this debtor’s rut.

We can’t afford his cap and trade,

Or billions more for foreign aid.

We have to end the public dole,

Hard work must now become the goal.

The borders must be sealed quite tight,

To stop invaders left and right.

The racist charges we’ll ignore;

The main thing is to mind the store.

It is quite simply common sense,

To build a long, strong border fence.

To keep illegals out, yes, that;

Undocumented Democrats!

The bitter pill we need to take,

Is that we made one huge mistake.

But God he’s not—he’s just a man,

And we’ll evict him, “Yes we can!”

The emperor, he has no clothes,

And as he gazes down his nose,

He thinks he is the best of all,

But soon he’ll take a mighty fall.

We’ve taken measure of the man,

And spread the word as best we can.

November 2 will be the day

On which we take his power away.

The media will be enraged,

That citizens became engaged.

The O will curl into a ball,

Or pound his fist against the wall.

His leftist schemes will have been stopped,

Despite the COLB he Photoshopped.

Deport him soon, we’ll try, we’ll try!

And cause Michelle to cry, cry, cry!

We’ll take control from sea to sea,

Restoring every liberty!

And then we’ll see it, yes we will…

That shining city on the hill!

First 14 lines, Kono at IOTW; remaining lines: Don Fredrick

Big Guy: All Books, No Grapes

Hmmm. What to make of this? Big Guy goes to the “whole Bunch of” Grapes bookstore and leaves with the following titles: “Freedom,” “The Red Pony” and “To Kill a Mockingbird.” What do it mean?

Big Guy leaves with “a whole bunch of books.” Not in his sack: a bunch of grapes

The Red Pony is about closing the barn door after the horse got out. To Kill a Mockingbird is set in the middle of the country’s Great Depression. It’s about a tragic miscarriage of justice by a racist white society against a Black man.

I don’t know what Freedom is about because it hasn’t really been released for sale yet. But an early Amazon review indicates it’s about a well-intentioned couple who lead the charge against an evil, environment-destroying big-coal mining empire, while falling prey to the nefarious intents of a Bush-Cheney crony. Not to worry: they emerge triumphant and filled with renewed hope. The review says we love the characters “not for their charm or goodness, but because they have their reasons…” Generally good enough for government work.

Even on vacation, Big Guy gets the s***y end of the stick.

Lady M may venture out later today, it depends on how quickly the Botox kicks in. We want to appear relaxed on our vacay.

Relaxed. Not Angry. It can be done, it just requires a little assist.

Update: Because we don’t want to go out looking like this, now do we? And you people wonder why we need a travel entourage of 24. Hair, nails and makeup alone requires a staff of 12.

Another Thousand Words                                         via Larwyn

Lunch Break Post from The Rock

I’ve only got a minute. The image embargo is still on, butt I thought I’d give you a peek at a video snagged by one of Little Mo’s local moles. He got this footage of Lady M and me going to our tennis match this morning. Watch carefully and see if you can spot me waving.

Did you see me? I’m in the 5th black SS car! Lady M is in the one in front of me. Got to go. Just finished lunch and ice cream and pedicures are calling!

From The Rock, I’m MOTUS, and now, back to you.

“Silver People on the Shoreline, Let Us Be.”

We’re here on the Rock! Lady M, the Wee Wons and I got here ahead of Big Guy on Air Force Won-2. He just landed on Air Force Won, then took Marine Chopper Won across Vineyard Sound, then by motorcade to our spectacular adequate digs here in Blue Heron Farm. Bo, Little Mo, ValJar and a slew of smaller staff people we’ll be needing “for a whole lot of stuff” came over with big Guy.

The first thing Big Guy did was ditch the bespoke jacket and tie. When he does that, you know he’s on vacation. Either that, or stumping in flyover country.

Deputy press secretary, and former Geico news man, Bill Burton said “Just like a lot of American people, the president is taking a little time with his family to recharge his batteries.” Strange, since he just visited two battery factories in the past few weeks. You would have thought they might have comped him a few.

  So easy, a cave… well, you know.

But I checked, and Big Guy’s batteries are nearly depleted. With poll numbers further under water than the leaky BP oil well, BO rammed in a grueling 3 day marathon sprint filled with fundraisers and speech-reading in Wisconsin, California, Washington, Ohio and Florida.

Sprinting through a battery factory

Most of Big Guy’s poll numbers have been sliding down for months now, so when I spotted a number that went up, I thought he’d be thrilled. Unfortunately it was the one about how many people in America think he’s a Mooselim. Apparently the answer is one in four. As the pollsters say, “that’s not a good metric.”

I tried to cheer him up though by pointing out how silly all these polls are any way. For example, only 77% of Americans believe that Obama was born in the US.

And besides, what difference does it make where you were born? Or what faith you adhere to? Or whether or not you actually wrote your own autobiography?

 

 

So, we were a little late getting out of the Big White because Big Guy was putting the finishing touches on a letter he dispatched to George W. Bush, asking him to pitch in and help clean up some of the messes he left behind for the Won. We could especially use some help on the HaMasque debacle. Since Big Guy had to go on record now saying that he didn’t regret the position he took last Friday, nor the one he took on Saturday. The last thing I heard from the pollsters when they were briefing him was that while he might not regret it, there seemed to be an awful lot of “likely voters” who did. I don’t know what that means, but it’s probably not good.

Any way, my pal  Dewey, who I mentioned earlier, got a scoop on what was in the letter. Here’s just a little sample:

By stepping up to the plate and taking one for the team, you will be able to help me persuade the folks out there that my fiscal/social policies are the only way out of the morass created by your failed policies.  I also think we can use this occasion as a teachable moment to demonstrate definitively that representative democracy is way over rated when it comes to making history-changing  decisions.

Then, blah, blah, blah, followed by a letter that Toes and the boyz drafted for 43 to sign. I think it might have been a little cheeky, but Big Guy said 43 is such a chump, he’ll just sign it. I’m not so sure. Here’s a just a teensy part of it talking about our illegal issue:

…This whole mess got out of hand because John McCain and I, who both completely backed unfettered amnesty for undocumenteds, backed down. We allowed ourselves to be cowed by the will of a pack of racists who don’t really know what’s best for either themselves, the Democratic party or this once great country.

And there is this part that Big Guy wrote himself, regarding our energy policy:

Now that President Obama has plugged that damn hole, let’s all agree that it will be much wiser and safer to abandon our pursuit of carbon based energy in this country and throw all of our resources into the development of wind, solar, green battery cell power and mice on treadmills.

I don’t think the good old boys in Texas will like that much, and that’s where W lives now. And I especially don’t think he’s going to like this part:

So, as the quality of care deteriorates in this once great country of ours, and since it’s my fault, our new national healthcare plan will henceforth be referred to as “Bush-care.”

Butt, Big Guy seemed pretty pleased with himself after sending the letter off, so that makes at least one person around here that’s happy. If you want to read the whole letter, it’s here: Hey 43, How About Grabbing a Mop?

Lady M’s in a foul mood, she didn’t even want to have her picture taken when we arrived. I think it’s her blood sugar again. So I don’t dare release any of the images stored on my hard drive. You’ll have to settle for an artist’s rendering of the happy family at Johnnie’s Cupcakes early this evening. Maybe once we’ve had dinner things will settle down. I’ll update later with photos if MO is feeling up to it.

TArtist’s (moi) rendering of our trip to Johnnie’s Cupcakes

Oh, butt here’s Big Guy and little Bo arriving. I hope there weren’t any Bo-nut incidents on any of our aircraft. Bo will be banished to the pantry if that’s the case.

They’re both prancing pretty good. That’s a good sign.

I won’t have anything else for you till tomorrow afternoon. We have a very early morning tennis match followed by a private spa treatment, that I’m not allowed to divulge. I have to go-with in order to make sure Lady M’s reflected well. Believe me, if she thinks she looks good, the following 8 days will go much better for all of us.

Iraq: Vacated. The Rock: Vacation

Finally! Our vacation! It seems like we’ve been waiting for this day for ever!

Everyone here at Big White is walking on eggshells. Big Guy’s getting it in the keister, Lady M’s in one of her moods and TOTUS and I are left to deal with it. Everyone - Toes, Axe-Man, Gibbsy and even JoeyB - are pulling the  ninja invisibility act, just hoping to stay under the radar until our departure.

I think it boils down to the heat. Not alGore’s Global Warming heat, butt the kind imposed on us by an ungrateful, formerly supportive media, and the other haters in flyover country. For the first time in her life, Lady M’s not proud of his poll numbers.

First, as reported by my bud Dewey From Detroit, there was MoDodo’s racist rant throwing Big Guy under the bus with Granny Dunham and Jeremiah Wright, and  practically smootching GEORGE W. BUSH! (I’ll have more on this disturbing incident later today.)

So Lady M has pretty much taken it easy this week, resting up for our vacay. None of the usual grueling speechifying about kid’s fat behinds or expressing her sincere gratitude to any of our little people for the work they do for us. Of course, she did have to pack for our vacation, which is grueling in itself. We’ve barely had time to unpack from the last two.

 

Big Guy’s week so far hasn’t been quite as easy. He’s been on the road bashing the Party of NO, dodging questions about the Hamasque that he was for before he was against, and trumpeting his own accomplishments.

First and foremost on the list of accomplishments is the triumphant end of Bush’s Iraq War. In fact, our first planned celebration on the Rock (that’s what we insiders call Martha’s Vineyard – I’ve no idea why) will be a toast to Big Guy for delivering on his promise: pulling our combat troops out of Iraq by August 31. We also have celebrations scheduled for all of the other promises he’s delivered on. So far it’s a light schedule.

So I think everyone needs a vacation this year: Lady M is still exhausted from her trip to stimulate the Spanish economy, and Big Guy – well he’s been stressed on more fronts than he knew he had.

And all this constant stress is taking a toll on their health. You can tell by looking at their hair:

   

Both Lady M and Big Guy’s hair show signs of stress, causing all sorts of broken ends and an undefined but obvious fuzziness.

I’m wondering if we shouldn’t have those organic vegetables from the Big White garden checked again.

OMG! Is that a bald spot?!!!! 

 

You must admit: this man looks like he needs a vacation (not Senator Nelson).

But the worse stress of all has been caused by the brutal criticism we’ve been getting for our vacation(s). Maybe everybody has forgotten about all the work for the American little people we’ve done just over the last couple of weeks. Let me refresh your feeble memories:

 

 

Maine                                      Spain

 

1. We went to inspect our national park in Acadia Maine.
2. Lady M just returned from a grueling overseas trip to end racism and repair the damage our predecessor did to our relationship with Spain. Actually, this whole trip was brought on by stress: Big Guy forgot that he was not, repeat NOT, supposed to invite Oprah to his birthday party in Chicago. We could not let that faux pas pass without consequences. (H/T Clarice). Boy, that little screw up on BO’s part cost the tax payers a ton of money.
3. While we were working in Spain, Big Guy repaired the damage our predecessor did to our relationship with the NBA by shooting hoops with LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Carmelo Anthony, Bill Russell and Magic Johnson. And he had a birthday party with Oprah.
4. No sooner did we get our feet back on American soil when we were once again whisked away to Florida’s oil soaked beaches to show our solidarity with the little people suffering tremendous economic loss due to George Bush’s oil spill, and to have lunch.

I’ve got to run, I think I hear Marine Won landing! I’ll have much more later from the Rock, baby!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seal of the Profit

I’m sure you remember when I received my new official seal from Toes and Big Guy in lieu of a raise:

The MOTUS Seal of Profits

Well, apparently that got Big Guy thinking while he was on vacation the other day, that maybe he should have a new Presidential Seal too, marking his historic presidency.  Perhaps one modeled after the Mooselim Seal of the Prophets:

Seal of the Prophet Mohammad

So, in the spirit of Ramadan diversity, he had Toes contact some of our Mooselim friends in Dearborn Michigan, which is known for both their Mooselims and their diversity to design our new seal.

We had to reject all the ones that included stars and crescents – public opinion running a bit hot on those symbols right now – but they finally came up with something that we think has all the right optics for a truly historic president. Additionally, it reflects Mooselim’s most recent “extraordinary contribution(s) to our country,”  Miss USA .(I guess that must have been what Big Guy was talking about.)

Miss USA, Rima Fakih, (from Dearborn!) models the new Presidential Seal of the Profits.

The original prototype designed for Big Guy was modeled by a handsome young Mooselim boy (in deference to more traditional Mooselim female modesty and because they thought it might be more up Big Guy’s alley).

They were surprised that it was rejected by both Toes and Axe-man.  Apparently our Mooselim diversity-week concerns only go so far.

Meanwhile, we are very busy packin’ for the Vineyards. This frock is still an “undecided” take-along. What do you all think?

      

 

Summery, feminine, colorful and fun. Fun? Well, maybe not fun.  We don’t do “fun.” Maybe Lady M could use a new “seal” too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

H/T Mrs.P, Patum Peperium