I gotta say, I love the 5-man infield and walking the bases loaded. I don’t love all the necklaces on these Rays…too much with the womanly. Not that what I think matters to a dude pitching in the WS. Just saying.

OK, then 2-1, Phils.

Top 10 American Icons That Are Not American - The List Universe

Because Arcapita is an Islamic venture capital firm, bacon was removed from the menu after the sale (pork not being halal). In accordance with Islamic Sharia law, the company does not invest in any businesses which offer credit or charge interest, or sell pornography, alcohol, or pork products. The company also owns Caribou Coffee.

One of those regularly-trotted-out bullshit lists of where America fucked up. The biggest surprise is delineated above. I used to love Church’s and imagined I still did but then realized I haven’t had Church’s Fried Chicken in a coon’s age long time.

As my main man Otis puts it, it’s ‘helmet chicken’. The breading creates a protective environment for the chicken, somehow, yet in it’s protectiveness, it pulls away, seperates, from that which it protects. Me, i just want to nail my grandmother’s recipe, which is pretty close to the Colonel’s Original, clingy and soft-ish, so I can pass it down to my grandsons.

Popeye’s, on the other hand, is greatness. I hear that they’re an arm of Church’s these days. Well, my taste buds might be screwed to hell and back, but there’s some bacon grease going on in that joint. Actually, their biggest claim to fame is the use of cayenne pepper, red pepper, apparently unheard of amongst the fried chicken franchiserati.

Once more, my German grandma — way ahead of her time. I sure do miss her.

Wow, what an enormous toad. I’m guessing he’ll be promptly shuffled off to vet some more post-extraction donations.

By the way, when did American pols take on the Israeli no-tie look? Me, I’m all for it. No distractions needed, thanks. Ties are the worst invention ever…are they French or German? Fuck ‘em, the useless pieces of cloth. Women want us to wear them, like drapes and shit. Ties do not move the ball forward.

Right Wing Nut House

Go ahead then. I have bared my chest and back for the lash. Deliver unto me your worst – and best if you’ve a mind to.

Someone send me an email when Rick Moran decides to stop being a fucking martyr. Guy used to write good shit, but nowadays it’s the Poor Pitiful Pundit Revue. Seriously, nobody gives a shit how put upon he might feel. It’s a hard world.

Mother, May I Sleep with Treacher?: Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?*

My hero:

How about a little of that, guys?

Note to my fellow countrymen: You are reading this without fear of censure or repression, in a room that is neither unlivably hot nor cold, free from hunger or able to remedy it within minutes. You have the hard-earned knowledge and wisdom of human history at your fingertips. You can get up from your computer and go wherever you want, do whatever you want, as long as you don’t hurt anybody else. Or you can exercise your right to reply to me, or to anyone, in any manner you choose. And thanks to this miracle/curse called the Internet, you can make yourself heard.

You’re free, in a way that Americans in 1941 never could have imagined. You have more power as a private individual than anyone else in the history of the world. Right now.

You can talk back to the people who are lying to you, lying about you. You are not helpless. We are not helpless. Their constant drumbeat — “Obama is inevitable, Obama is inevitable, Obama is inevitable” — is a sign of weakness, not strength. If they really thought he could win on his own merits, they wouldn’t be trying so hard to brainwash you.

Most of all, you can vote. You might try to outwit yourself: “Well, I live in a blue state, so my vote doesn’t matter anyway. Besides, they’ve already pretty much bragged about how they’re going to steal the election, and they’re getting away with it.” All the more reason to take a little time out of your day on Nov. 4 and spite them. They think we’re stupid. They think we’re cowards. They think we’ll believe whatever they say just because they’re the ones saying it. Personally, I have no interest in proving them right.

So: Do you think maybe you can hold it together in the face of a few biased polls, princess? A few ads funded by fraudulent donations from Allah knows who? A few turncoat pundits who wouldn’t waste their Zinfandel-tinged spit on you? Do you think you can keep from browning up your panties for just 10 more days, dear heart?

Stop. Whining. One Christopher Buckley is enough, thank you.

Goddamnitalltohell, it will never be over until we say it’s over. I learned that from Tom Jefferson, Ben Franklin, John Adams, Col. Wm. B. Travis, and Dirty Harry.

Strangely enough, I learned it from Senator Blutarski, too.

THE BROKERS WITH HANDS ON THEIR FACES BLOG

As Ace explains, it’s exactly what it says. Pretty funny, since it’s classic iconography from the mediots. The sky is falling because these guys have their hands on their faces! Me, having known a couple, I think their heads are pounding from coke & booze & late nights with shiftless MAWs. Hey, it’s Manhattan…party like a Shriner every night, all night.

Maybe not the older guys. They probably really are worried about getting their asses kicked by somebody, somewhere, totally out of the blue. Us old guys worry about that kind of crap.

Coolio - I was (re-)watching Dirty Harry (again) last night.

I’m pretty sure this is gonna be the new carb for the ‘78 454 - Item #2, Carter AFB 600cfm with Electric Choke. A classic muscle-car carburetor, per my engine genius man, one I’d never heard of. I thought about going with the 750cfm, but that’s probably too much for my plans. I love their ad copy: “Why pay $30 -$50 for a junky, dirty, nasty old used carburetor plus another $30 - $50 for a kit when you can buy this guaranteed rebuilt carb for a little more????” Really, why do that? Unless you love smelling like carb dip and jacking around with tee-tiny springs and parts and stuff…I don’t.

Then, after that, I have to think about the transmission. I’d love to find an automatic overdrive that’ll bolt right up. Then there’s the interior to consider. I’m going with a full rubber floor, backed with sound-deadening stuff. I need to find an early ’90s Chebbie 60/40 bench for the seat. Vinyl, of course — this is the River Runner, and I don’t want to worry about messing up the seats with mud and gunk and wet shorts. I probably should get a new bed or at least a new passenger side, so I can re-connect the second gas tank.

The gun rack will be the last thing, heh heh. OK, then…