Is Stupidity Stranger Than Fiction?

by: Debra

Sometimes people's names reflect their personality.  Michael Savage is one of them.  Instead of taking on the attributes of his angelic first name, he prefers reveling in the negative qualities of his last.   The safest place for him is Arkham Asylum.

SAVAGE: Then we got into the dominatrix (he wishes!) issue. I don't understand that part of it. I truly don't understand it because any heterosexual woman today over the age of 25 who grew up in America is basically a dominatrix. You ask any heterosexual guy. Within a short period of time -- what do you think it's going to last? Ehhh -- 90 days and after that you're living with a dominatrix anyway, so what's the difference? Why do they have to go to a professional? What does a professional dominatrix do that an ordinary woman doesn't do in America today? Half the women look like post-op transvestites to begin with, trying to look like they're gay or keeping up with the mores of the society. You ever see what they look like? They thin themselves down, they're on some kind of diet pill. The lipstick looks like it was applied by, what's her name, Joan Rivers when she was high. They all have a mouth on them, and the guy is, like, pushed into the background. It's any wonder I'm in talk radio. The safest place for a man to be today is in talk radio and listening to it.

Perhaps a little time reading the wisdom of Abraham Lincoln, a name that has been tossed around quite a bit lately, would help him on his so far fruitless quest for humanity.

Better to be silent and thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt.

But that would require reading, knowledge of history and logical thinking and those qualities do not go very well with the diarrhea of the mouth that Savage, and his companion toddler Limbaugh, spew when their gags diapers are removed.  The sad part is that these two burbled and babbled about how civility is practically nonexistent in the Democratic party.   As opposed to being completely nonexistent from the last remnants of the I need my daddy to make it all better party.

Every once in a while the Supremes remember what their job is supposed to be (clue, they're not kingmakers) and refusing to review Obama's birth is one of them.   Accidents of birth happen all the time.  Let's use Paris Hilton as an example.  She may have been born into wealth on American soil but anyone with half a brain knows she isn't qualified to be President much less a garbage collector.  I, and my two brothers, were not born in the contiguous United States.  We were, however, born on American ground while my father served his country when we still had bases that were located outside the continental US to protect us from the Red Menace, by virtue of being born in a United States hospital and are considered natural born citizens. Period. McCain was born while his father was overseas defending his country and that should not be considered a penalty.  Obama was born in Hawaii after it became a state and that should be the end of the matter.  At least it would be for thinking people, but it appears others escaped Arkham along with the potty mouths.

Over the last few weeks my friends have been having a difficult time and I've tried to support them as much as possible.  My friend, we'll call her Lin, ruptured the maxillary artery on the left side of her face.  It started as a simple nosebleed and with Kaiser's wonderful efficiency they sent her home twice in one day.  On the third trip to the ER, one of the ER people finally noticed that the blood was spurting and not leaking.  By the time they had admitted her she had lost half of her blood volume and it was five days before she was strong enough to survive the surgery to repair the aneurysm.  This vibrant woman, who hapens to be a psychiatric nurse, lost over 20 pounds and a lot of the oomph from her personality.

My next door neighbor, we'll call him Dale, had his beloved dog die the other night.  I would have a picture of Tycho but it was scheduled for the day after he was gone.  All the dogs in the neighborhood knew something was up.  Losing one's best friend is devastating,  Especially for those of us who treat our dogs as our surrogate children.

On an even stranger note, every since Sarah Palin hit the airwaves my keyboard keeps dropping the g.  Very frustratin.

Oh yeah, are we human or are we dancer?  I must be old because I don't know what that means, but my signs are still vital and my hands are warm.

Debsweb