An Open Letter To My Uterus

Dear Syd,

I have a favor to ask of you. Oh, I know we’ve never gotten along in the past, but can’t we let bygones, be bygones?

The thing is, Matt-Man and I have these fucked up work schedules, and we never get to see each other except for Friday and Saturday nights.

Also, as you know, I have a sleeping issue.

Oh sure, we have a good time drinking and catching up with each other’s week, and shit like that. However…

Naked Twister needs to be played up here in the crib…if you know what I mean.

Also, I’d really not like to feel like a major failure for once, as you come at really inconvenient times.

Today is the beginning of the weekend, and you are due any motherfucking minute.

I beg of you, please hold out until Sunday?

I will be eternally grateful. I’ll even stop calling you names, and threatening to cut you out my own damn self with a rusty coat hanger.

Please?

Who am I kidding; you don’t care.

You’re not even listening, but I thought I’d give it a shot. You’ll do what you want; you always do. You suck! Kidding, kidding. Hee Hee?

But, I do need to do the horizontal mambo with my man, so just wait it out, or Ima cut a bitch.

Yours in Christ,

Beth

Zoooooves!!

Saturday Morning Cartoons

I'm working 11-9 today, but ya know what? Today, and in fact all week, is going to be prime cleavage viewing time at the Beer Mine.

Ahhhh, summer comes to Bagwine. I shall have the tunes cranked up at work while I enjoy the warm temps and the hot breastesses.

Inky, my good man, throw on some music....

Cheers!!

Sunday Morning Church Disservice: Happy Mother's Day...Yeah, Right.

It is going to be a sunny yet relatively cool Sabbath in Bagwine, Ohio on this Mother’s Day.

And with that being said, Happy Mother’s Day to all of the Moms and MILFs who have taken the time to spread their legs and nine months later, spit out a kid or two…or nine like my mom did.

Children, husbands, and divorce attorneys across this country will be praising and thanking moms everywhere.

All the while, restaurateurs, greeting card companies, and petunia peddlers will be making a killing. You know why?

Because people are stupid!!

Mother’s Day Schmother’s Day. It should be called, “Let’s Clean Out the Wallets of the Gullible Day.”

Mother’s Day…what a racket.

Oh sure…I’m going to Lowe’s early to pick up a flat of flowers for Ryno to give to his mom, but I’m using a Lowe’s gift card that I got for Christmas, so I’m not spending my own money.

I may spend a few bucks of my own. I’m getting a couple of donuts for Ryno, so I'll get a couple for his mom as well. Not because it’s Mother’s Day mind you.

I’ll do it because I’m a nice guy and the five to ten minutes that she spends scarfing down a couple of donuts is five to ten minutes she won’t be able to whine or ask me to clean or fix something.

Hell, I don’t even celebrate Mother’s Day with my own mom…for two reasons.

One, as I said, I think it’s a bogus holiday, and two? She’s been dead for nearly four years and I think it would be kinda creepy if I dug her up and took her to brunch.

Mother’s Day…uh-huh…what a crock.

I must be off now so I can get to Lowe’s as soon as they open and pick up the flowers for Ryno’s mom.

After I drop them off, she can plant them in the yard which I once meticulously landscaped, and which sits in front of the house which I once owned.

Amen, and Amen.

And now…Inky and Lola!!


Cheers!!

Saturday Morning Cartoons

As I am still trying to get in Inky and Lola mode for their Grand Resurrection next Saturday, and as I am working 11-9 today, I offer you three more of this lovable duo's work.

I woke up this morning with a pain in my neck. Literally. I can't turn my head without turning my entire body. This Inky and Lola classic sums it up quite well..


Of course today in the Bluegrass State they are running the most exciting two minutes in sport...The Kentucky Derby.

This one from September 2008 is so stupid it still makes me laugh. It came on the heels of then candidate Barack Obama saying in a speech, "You can't put lipstick on a pig."

Have a wunnerful Saturday, all. If you're thirsty or want some Grippo's, come by and see me at the Beer Mine.

Cheers!!

Streaming Friday!!

It’s Stream of Consciousness Friiiiiday so finger me like your keyboard and wrap your legs around my hard drive ‘cause I am singin’ in the Key of F5.

Damn right Bitches, I’m your personal refresh key so touch me…TOUCH ME!!! Ahhhhhhhhhhh.

Bom bom feedle bom, and dosey doe in your underwear, I wanna dance dammit!! I’m off today. What to do? What to do?

I need to walk to the Beer Mine and get my check this morning. Nice day for a walk, partly cloudy and 80. Not too nice for Pizza Bill though. He’s working from 10-9 today. Ha.

Temps in the 80s and busy on a Friday at the Beer Mine. I’m putting out an Ass Chap Alert!! Don’t go near Pizza Bill today, Whoa Nellie…He will have a major case of Ass Chap today.

Bill will be sweating and yeastifying all over his ass and the rest of his nether regions. Poor fella. Ha!! Ass Chap, what a freak that boy be. And I call Pizza Bill a freak…

Hell, I commented to Evil Twins Wife that I have three testicles. I don’t, but the two I do have are huge.

They’re like super balls…especially when contrasted against my diminutive cock. But man, those boys can shoot gallons of spooge, and with force.

When I cum, it’s like someone stuck a pack of Pop Rocks and a dozen Alka-Seltzer tablets into a bottle of Pepsi. Whooooooooooosh. Old Faithful gots nothin’ on me. I’m Old Mattfull, Boo Yah!!

Shit…I should call Richard today. Haven’t talked to him in a couple of weeks. I bet the crazy bastard has another three dozen cats. He really needs to stop.

I should call my brother Marty too. Wow, what a fun day off.

My life sucks. After I get my check, I’m going to spend my time talking to a crazy old cat man, and my brother. Oh well, at least Marty is funny.

Maybe some hot chicks will want me to call them today, I mean I got nothing else to do. Drop me a line, Bitches…we’ll chat.

Ol’ Drive-By Mikey went mushroom hunting the other day. I wonder how the mushroom got its name. I mean, was it first discovered inside a room that was used by a sled dog trainer? Maybe I’ll Google that…or not.

Hankie Pankie…what a stupid term. Can one have Hankie without having Pankie? I guess it’s possible.

I mean, if I was looking at a picture of a hot chick and jacked off, I would be the only one doing anything and when I was done, I would definitely need a hankie…or a towel.

So yeah, I guess I could simply have Hankie.

I have an itch in my ear. I hate that. It’s too deep to get to without compacting all the wax into a brick. Dammit. Auuuugh. Annoying.

Now I’m all horny ‘cause I mentioned Hankie Pankie…Oh well. What? Ha…I should show my cock to everyone and I know a classic Inky and Lola that will show it…

Have a wonderful Friday all…let me refresh you if you’re bored today.

Cheers!!

Trying To Find My Roots

A long, long time ago, I used to draw two stick figures who were close to my soul. Their names? Inky and Lola. I am going to breathe new life into them.

But as many of you do not know them, I am going to show you over the next few days who they are.

Even though they are merely cartoon stick figures, I dig Inky's simplicity and I dig Lola's breasts. I also dig the name Lola because it reminds me of a late 40's-early 50's hooker who drinks Schlitz and smokes Chesterfields.

Anyhoo...

Starting Saturday, May 8th, I am going to breathe new life into this fucked up duo. In the meantime, and you may see more, here they are...Inky and Lola.

Here is one of the first ones...and by the way, they all enlarge by clicking...

Here is Inky...um..not getting the love of the Lord....

Here's a pre-July 4th post...

And here is a real time July 4th post...

And this is...oops!! How did that get in there? That's me and Anna Nicole Smith. Glad my name wasn't mentioned during her post mortem trial...

Have a wunnerful Thursday...I'll try to do the same.

Cheers!!

Inky and Lola: The Passion of Christ

Cheers!!

Thanksgiving...A Cornucopia of Traditions

It's Thanksgiving week here in the glorious and gluttonous United States of America. Food, booze, and on Friday, credit cards will be flying as we give thanks as a nation.

It's a grand American tradition, and nowhere is the Thanksgiving tradition more honored than here at Bagwine Ruminations.

Let's take a look at some previous Thanksgiving related Bagwine pictures, videos, and stories shall we?

It's Thanksgiving week, bitches!! And we'll be celebrating all week. Enjoy.

An Inky and Lola Spin-Off...



A moving song I wrote some two years and 35 pounds ago...

A future look at Thanksgiving that I wrote in 2008...

I thought I would channel my magical six and a half pound turkey breast, Lola Fowllana, to see what future Thanksgivings may hold for me…

Say, in twenty years from now.

Man, by that time my kid will be 34. I’ll be nearly 64, and my nutsack will have dropped down another 8 inches.

Instead of being nearly bald, I will be completely bald. I won’t have any of my real teeth, but by God, I will have a set of futuristic dentures.

I’ll still cook a bird, potatoes, dressing, and since I’ll have teeth, I may even have some maize on the cob.

I’ll just have to make sure not to overdue it, lest my brand new colostomy bag break open like a New Orleans levee.

That would certainly put a damper, not to mention an intolerable stench, on the holiday.

I don’t know if Schmoop will still be with me.

I mean, as it is now, I walk around the abode all day, half naked scratching my boys, by then I will have completely given up on life and just walk around all day fully naked scratching them.

I can see how she might grow weary of that.

Then again, she might not even notice ‘cause she’ll be too busy trying not to trip over her 40 Cs that are in a race to the floor with my aforementioned nutsack.

Eh, we’ll be together. I think Satan has made a pact with God on that. Besides, who would color her hair and get things cooked prior to the big feast?

Perhaps my son and his new wife will stop by to see dear old Dad. That would be nice.

I would give him a big hug, and give his sexy, tall, spouse with the perfect breasts an even tighter and longer lasting one...and some tongue.

Then they’ll leave and go over to his mom’s for Thanksgiving dinner. And once again, it will be just Schmoop and I.

We’ll make a toast. I’ll serve the food...

And then, maybe when we are done eating, we will, as we now do most Saturday nights, slow dance to a song or two in our tiny apartment.

Exhausted from the big day, we will go to bed, smile at each other, and exchange a soft kiss and our goodnights.

Then, as I roll over to turn out the light…

I'll see that the clock reads Six-O'-Fucking-Clock P.M.!!

Cheers!!

Rug Burns and Fishing Poles

It is done peoples…

As it is so close to the 4th of July...

Schmoop and I have appropriately enough, gained our independence from stained, yellowish walls and threadbare carpet that was put down sometime between the Nixon and Carter administrations.

The painting (other than some touch ups) is done and the new carpet has been laid.

No pictures yet, as we have yet to put everything back into place, but let me tellz ya…

We are getting rid of quite a bit of our crap and keeping pictures, knick knacks, and the such to a minimum. Our Love Shack will be looking sleek.

Hell, Schmoop got rid of the bed frame and has the box and the mattress directly on the floor of the bedroom.

As we are both off today, later in the afternoon and evening, we are going to break in the new carpet and see what kind of rug burn patterns it puts on Schmoop’s knees.

I guess when we’re done breaking it in, we will also find out if the carpet is stain resistant. I’ll report back to you with the results.

First off on this glorious Thursday, I am going fishing with Ryno this morning. My brother Vinny is coming along with us.

As my brother Vince is a bit of an oddball, the pictures from our angling expedition should be a hoot. If I happen to shoot a video of Vinny fishing, trust me on this…

The visuals and the dialogue of the V-Man will be like watching Babe Winkelman meets Federico Fellini.

Anyhoo…Wednesday was a long day and night, so that is all that I have. But keeping in line with our Independence Day celebration this week, I leave you with two classic Inky and Lola cartoons…





Enjoy your Thursday all...If you're not around tomorrow for me to tell you, let me say this now...

Have a safe and sex filled 4th of July. I will and I may even give you a preview of it tomorrow.

Cheers!!

Cinco de Mayo: For Me, It's Just Like Thanksgiving

Today is a day of Mexican celebration, and one that all Americans should be thankful for as well.

What does Cinco de Mayo commemorate, you ask?

Well, let me give you a history lesson and ‘splain it to you.

In 1862, Napoleon III, Emperor of France, sent troops to Mexico to install a puppet government.

This army of well supplied French soldiers had planned on attacking Mexico City. It was not to be.

When word of this plan spread, a gang of 43 young Mexicans decided to take on the French army.

This gang had been formed after the evil Gadsden Purchase of 1853.

These brave gang members were known as the, Fuck Franklin Piercers.

Packed like um...well, Mexicans, into their horse-drawn hoopty with tricked out wooden wheels...

The 43 brave FFP-ers headed to meet the French at the city of Puebla.

Armed only with unbridled courage, switchblades, and mariachi music, these 19th Century gang members defeated the heavily armed, and meticulously uniformed European pussies mighty French army…

That's the way it was...May 5, 1862.

I am glad those guys thwarted the French, because had they not, things today would be much worse here in the States.

For instance, all of the illegal aliens swimming across the Rio Grande to come here, would be French!!

Can you imagine having your lawn and garden kept up by a half dozen French guys? Oh, dear God…

They would be complaining about the heat, the pay, and the crooked mow lines on the fescue. And God forbid if you offer them tap water to drink…

They would demand Perrier!!

And just think…

The French illegals working here as hotel maids would have hairy armpits.

Do you want your bed made up and towels changed by a chick with hairy armpits?

I didn’t think so.

There would also be no Mexican fast food chains.

Instead, Main Street U.S.A. would be littered with fast-food eateries called, Crepe-Eaux Belle.

Am I going to go to a place like that when I’m stinkin' drunk at 2 A.M., and order the Pollo Puff Pastry Supreme with currants and bleu cheese...?

Je ne le fuckin' pense pas!!

Just think…If one of these border crossing French aliens stopped me to ask for directions, my entire response would be different.

Instead of the fluid, lilting sounding reply, “No Habla Espanol.” I would have to say...

“I don’t speak Frog, you pretentious French bastard.”

Hell, even history would be forever altered.

Instead of being known for his brazen, anti-hero exploits, Pancho Villa would be known for his over powering serve as he won the 1912 French Open on the clay courts of the Stade Roland Garros.

So Sad…

So on this Cinco de Mayo, take time out to hug an illegal Mexican and thank them for not being French.

Just make sure to wear a pig flu mask and keep one hand on your wallet when doing so.

Cheers!!

Oh, and just for shits and giggles...From my Sharpie to your computer screen, a classic Inky and Lola cartoon...

Sabbatum Sanctum

It’s Holy Saturday.

The last day of Holy Week. The day before Jeebus rises up…and most importantly…

The last day of my Meatlessness for the Messiah and the end to my 72 hour fast!!

Damn straight. The last meat I ate was clear back on February 24th. It was two Burrito Supremes and three Taco Supremes.

Yo Quiero, Jeebus Christ!! And, bitches…

My last meal period, was Wednesday night as I finished up my Velveeta and Herb Stuffing concoction at 11:53 P.M. Boy Howdy!!

I did cheat a little bit Friday afternoon. I had the Number 9 for lunch. And let me tell ya…Schmoop never tasted so good.

Purrrrrrr.

It will be close come Easter morning, but I may just crack that 180 pound threshold.

As you can see from the picture, I had Schmoop’s brother shave my head like a shorn lamb of God to give me that couple ounces of leeway.

Anyhoo…Today, in between dreaming about getting teabagged by Tyra Banks religious meditations and listening to my stomach growl, I will be working from 11-4.

The ex is bringing Ryno by work briefly, because later today he will be headed to the Chicagoland area to spend Spring Break with his aunt, uncle, and two fave cousins.

I will see him off with a kiss, a hug, a twin pack of Grippo’s BBQ chips, and some spending cash. I hope the little shit appreciates it.

Kidding…I’m sure he will.

Of course, I am also sure that when he and his mom swing by, he’ll be gnawing on a huge, delicious hamburger saying, “Hey Dad…Look. This is soooooo goooood.”

So there you have it. The end and the Resurrection are in sight. Tomorrow, I will be shoveling White Castle cheeseburgers down my throat. Amen.

Have a great day, and a lovely Easter weekend. I leave you with an Inky and Lola Easter classic...

Cheers!!

Dicks and Pics

As I promised you in yesterday's post...

A picture of my best bud in the world.

He's prolific, ubiquitous, and talented beyond belief.

Every man wants to be him, and every woman wants to be with him.

Ladies, and Gentlemen, my penis...

Seamus!!



And now for something even more infantile. This is Ryno's B-Ball picture from last season. I cut his head out of the picture. Why?


The owner/my boss and I have started playing a game at work. Based on the books, Where's Waldo? We play...

Where's Ryno!?

Each day we take turns placing Ryno's head in a spot at work and the other has to find it. Here are some examples...

I got things started off by putting his noggin' on our Planters Peanuts box!!



The picture below is a sample Ohio ID picture that is hung up in the office...



My next hiding spot seemed tailor made, no?



Also in the office, Mike has beer and racing schtuff plastered all over the walls.

Including this small poster of race car driver Kenny Wallace...

Ol' Mikey took the, Where's Ryno game to a new level by hiding Ryno upon this perfect fit!!



Below, is a huge mirror high up above the cooler door with the Old-Fashioned Miller High Life Girl logo.



Before I left work Tuesday night, I figured I'd make Mike look up when he gets there Wednesday morn in order to find out Where Ryno is. Ryno makes a cute Miller girl, no?


Yes, we are in our 40's, but what the hell. Having fun and being infantile at work makes things go so much more smoothly. I dig it there.

Speaking of work...

My co-worker buddy, Pizza Bill, will be manning the place Wednesday thru Friday night. The temps are going to be in the single digits during the day and below zero at night.

Bill stopped by to get smokes last night and said to me, and I quote...

Matt-Man, it's gonna be colder than fuck while I'm working the next few days, ask your readers to pray to the Holy Baby Jeebus for me.

He reads Bagwine everyday so if you could, say a prayer for Pizza Bill, and ask Jeebus to make sure that his balls don't fall off.

I'll be praying to Jeebus and thanking him that my schedule this past week included days with temps in the 20's and 30's.

Oh and Bill? I'll be thanking Jeebus while sitting in the confines of my incredibly warm abode.

Cheers!!

Pinky and Lola: The Hope of Christmas

As I was making Christmas cards yesterday, I began to think why didn’t I just fuckin’ buy a box of cards about those who visit my site.

Most of you are at least liberal leaning, but some are more to the right.

Some of you are religious, while others would like to stick Baby Jeebus in the eye with a hot poker.

Since this is the Christmas season, I wanted to take this opportunity to thank all of you, but also give a special shout out to those readers who happen to be gay or bisexual.

I have been blessed to have a diverse readership that includes gay men, hot lesbians, and those real freaks of society, Canadians.

I myself, have never hid the fact that I would like to have a sex change and become a lesbian porn star, but alas, that is a pipedream.

I do however, continue my research on the subject by watching hot chick on chick action on a daily basis via pay-per-view cable and the internets.

Anyhoo…This isn’t about me. It’s about a sassy part of our Bagwine Ruminations family.

For instance…

Real Live Lesbian stops by here and comments on occasion.

She’s smart, sexy, funny, and if you check out her blog you will find that she writes really well too.

Every time that she leaves a comment on my site, it adds a much needed and appreciated touch of class to the drivel that I post.

I dig her, as do many others in Bloglandia. Here’s to ya RLL, and Merry Christmas.

And then, there’s Vinny. His blog is, Bond’s Big Leather Couch. I know, some of you saying, “But Matt-Man…Bond isn’t gay. Not that there‘s anything wrong with that.”

Ha. C’mon folks…Helllloooo. He’s had an obvious crush on me for nearly two years. It’s embarrassing.

No, not the fact that a guy finds me hot, that’s flattering, but Vinny does it in such gratuitous fashion.

His pursuit of me, however, is more than deep-seated lust; it is a cry for help. I think he’s looking for the key that will unlock his closet door and set him free.

But, fear holds him back from leaving his closet, sashaying over to his couch, and plopping down next to me.

He is living a lie, and it pains me. He has a son. He has a girlfriend named Nancy. He claims to like football. Stop it Vin.

Quit hiding behind Darlin’ Nancy’s skirt and start wearing one. I bet you have the legs for it my good…um…man.

Vinny, in addition to celebrating the birth of Jeebus in a couple of weeks, allow us to celebrate the death of Vincent, and the birth of Edna St. Vincent Bond.

I hope you make this Christmas wish come true for me, and more importantly for yourself and those who truly love you.

Now, I am off to make more frickin’ cards, but before I go, in all seriousness, remember this…

Christmas is more than presents and the celebration of a religious figure.

It is all about peace, love, and understanding.

And more importantly...

It is about the hope that someday, no matter who or what we are, we shall share and experience all three of those things with others and within ourselves.

Cheers!!

Thanksgivings Past

The next three days I thought I would explore Thanksgiving from the past, the future, and the present.

Today…Thanksgivings past.

I was trying to recall my earliest memories of Thanksgiving. I had trouble. Every recollection seemed pretty much the same…wonderful.

Mom, Dad, and the nine of us kids crowded together in the house. The older boys and the oldest sister would swill beer, and smoke cigarettes, as we watched football.

Mom would cook. Dad would try to find a quiet place to hide, and the youngest sister would be writing yet another love letter to her Medical Center dreamboat, Chad Everett.

For the most part, I simply remember the fantastic smells, all of us playing football in the backyard at halftime, and most of all, the laughter.

One thing we were never short of in our tightly packed house was laughter. In fact, an odd, but ultimately humorous tradition began one Thanksgiving.

The origins of why it was started and by whom have become a hostage of time and the fading memories among the clan.

My Mom, St. Mary Anne, had a huge picture of Pope Paul VI in the living room. One year, one of the kids drew a mustache on him. It was in magic marker over the glass.

When Mom saw it, the heavens shook, she yelled, and took on the form of Gabriel while threatening to punish the culprit with smacks on the butt from her feared bolo paddle.

Fortunately, for us all, Divine Intervention in the form of a kitchen timer sounding, saved our souls, and our asses.

Every Thanksgiving thereafter, even into adulthood, somebody would draw a mustache on Pope Paul, and in all of our juvenile glory we would laugh…Mom, most of all.

I do have one other Turkey Day memory that I may have briefly mentioned a long time ago. I was 16 or 17 and dating Sherri a sweet young girl.

After Thanksgiving dinner, we went to a party that an older brother’s friend was having. It was bitterly cold for November.

After a few underage drinks, our teenage hormones kicked in and we needed to act upon our cornucopia of dirty thoughts.

Well, my friend and I headed out into the 20 degree night and started making out in front the house, near the street.

Within a matter of lustful minutes we were lying butt naked on the sidewalk, “giving thanks” to each other, and performing our version of “Pilgrims Gone Wild”.

The sex was good, well, as it good as it can be for teenagers. But, I did learn one very important thing that night.

Sex in 20 degree weather may make a chick’s nipples rock hard, but it does little to encourage the growth of a guy’s cock.

And man, my little wank needs all the encouragement it can get. For learning that fact so early in life, I am truly thankful.

A couple of things before I go…First of all, Karen? You are evil. Because of your comment to me yesterday, I now have to make dressing and gravy as well for T-Day dinner.

I hope you realize that you just added 15 minutes 2 hours to my work on Thursday.

And lastly, a Inky and Lola-esque cartoon from last Thanksgiving season. It is proof positive of my mad, artistic skillz…

Cheers!!

Saturdays With Sarah: Propositionin'

Three days folks…

A mere 72 hours until the votes are cast as is the die.

Who will win? Will Joe Biden be our next Vice-President? Or will that position be held by Sarah “Lame and Tall” Palin?

As a veteran of many a political campaign I never predict.

Too many unknowns that we know about and many that we don’t know about, can affect the outcome in way that is unknown to us even if we should have known that the aforementioned unknowns were a possibility.

Sorry. It’s Halloween night as I type this, and I think I was channeling Donald Rumsfeld.

I was going to ask Joe Biden a few questions for today’s entry, but I really didn’t want to end up with a 25,000 word post.

So, Sarah and I sat down and chewed the caribou fat for a few minutes. What follows are my questions and her answers.

Gov. Palin…Thanks for coming by the Bagwine digs, and Happy Halloween.

Thanks, Matt the Man. Get it? You’re Matt THE Man, like Joe, is Joe THE Plumber. Or like Marian, is Marian THE Librarian…or… lik-

Okay, stop…please. Um, Governor, tomorrow at 2 A.M. we will be setting our clocks back an hour. How do you feel about this?

As you know, I can see Russia from my front porch. Someday, they may want to invade us. Or maybe, sneak into our waters and steal some of our crabs.

Turnin’ our clocks back an hour gives us an extra 60 minutes to deploy our um…you know, our whatever and catch ‘em.

Former Reagan Chief of Staff, Ken Duberstein said on Friday that McCain has undermined his campaign by choosing you as his VP after one interview.

He went on to say that even at McDonald’s people have three interviews before they are hired. Because of you, he is supporting Obama. How do you respond?

I don’t know who this Ken THE Chief of Staff guy is, but sounds to me like he pals around with terrorists. Listen, I will be a voice for job creation, lower taxes, and um…job creation.

And let me say to Mr. Ken, with my experience as a mayor and Governor of Alaska, I could not only get that job at McDonald’s. I could be a manager.

That would make you, Sarah THE McDonald’s Manager!!

Hahahahaha…You Betcha!!

One last thing…What will you do if you and Johnny Mac lose on Tuesday?

Well, I’ll still be Governor of Alaska. With that comes the opportunity to choose myself as Sen. Ted Stevens replacement should he win reelection to the U.S. Senate and then resign due to his felonies.

Or, I may write a book. Maybe write a coloring book. I’d like that. Then again, maybe I’d dump Todd, and have hot bi-partisan sex with you, Matt THE Man…wink wink.

Really? Hmmmmm? Could I be on bottom?

You Betcha!! That would make me Sarah THE Cowgirl. Giddy Up, Matt THE Man!!

She is simply fascinating.

Don’t forget to turn your clocks back before you go to bed tonight.

Cheers!!

Inky and Lola: Lipstick Pig

A little Inky and Lola for ya...




Our cat, Corky...Is she praying to God and the Holy Baby Jeebus, or to Sammy "The Bull" Gravano?

I am off to see my 13 year old clone, but before I go, a word about McCain's claim that Obama was calling Gov. Sarah Palin a pig earlier this week.

And more so, Johnny Mac's "outrage" over Obama's sexist comment towards Palin.

Johnny Mac has gone off of the edge as far as being a decent human being. He's become a bitter old man who will do and say anything to become President.

Well Johnny Mac should know first hand about ugly comments towards women...Here are but a few examples of the Mac-Man in action...

"You know, the French remind me a little bit of an aging actress of the 1940s who is still trying to dine out on her looks but doesn't have the face for it."

"At least I don't plaster on the makeup like a trollop, you cunt." -to his wife, Cindy, after she playfully twirled his hair and said "You're getting a little thin up there," as reported in the book The Real McCain by Cliff Schecter

"Do you know why Chelsea Clinton is so ugly? Because Janet Reno is her father." --at a 1998 Republican fundraiser

"Did you hear the one about the woman who is attacked on the street by a gorilla, beaten senseless, raped repeatedly and left to die? When she finally regains consciousness and tries to speak, her doctor leans over to hear her sigh contently and to feebly ask, 'Where is that marvelous ape?'" --a joke McCain reportedly told during his first Senate race in 1986

Oh John McCain, you're such a peach to look out for poor, little, vacuous Sarah. How dare that mean Obama pick on her.

If you two get elected, make sure you hose Sarah during your first term, because if you guys get a second term, she'll be pushing and then exceeding 50.

I know how you like your chicks much younger than that.

Have a great Saturday, all.

Cheers!!