Thrice In Nice. . .

Hey, I'm drinking beer at work, what are you doing?

Again, bloody hell, again. Last night I skirted the 4th level of salad hell inferno hoping to ride the momentum right the heck out of town, but little did I know that the inverse gravitational influence cubed of Bibb lettuce is the equivalent of doing a face plant into green Jello at 75 miles per hour.

So, now I'm stuck. In Gulfport. Still.

And to make matters worse, I'm out of clean underwear. Which gives me about three options.

I can walk around naked. I can go commando. Or I can buck up and shop at Wal-Mart on a Friday evening.

Neither of these options seem to appeal to my sensibilities. Just ask Nils, the Wal-Mart in Gulfport on a Friday night is a fairly frightening experience.

Yet, my boys down there rubbing against rough denim for a full day tomorrow sounds like. . .ah, forget it, this post is going nowhere.

I leave you with the kind words of my grandfather, Daddy Ray, who was more or less the human genomes of Archie Bunker and Fred Sanford photosynthesized in a petri dish full of bourbon:

Daddy Ray: "One of these days boy, when you get old, your balls are gonna sag."

Me: "But Daddy Ray, I'm only 8 years old."

Daddy Ray: "Son, trust me. I've got big balls and they sag."

Me: "Daddy Ray?"

Daddy Ray: "Yes?"

Me: "What are 'balls'?"

Daddy Ray: "Son, bring me another bourbon, I have to fire up the tractor and bush-hog the hill."

Me: "Neat or on the rocks?"

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Jesse, Jesse, Jesse. . .

. . .everybody knows that Barack Obama has no balls. It's no secret.

And EVERYBODY knows that you "ain't gots no class, nigga."

Jesus Jesse, just shut the hell up. Your account for "society's trust" is past due, pay up and go away.

If black people can't lecture black people on the ills of their part of society and culture, then who can? Whites? The Chinese? Hardly, my boy.

I don't care much for Mr. Obama because of his rather "Manchurian Candidate" feel and his serious lack of the earned political experience that it will take to survive four years as President in the sump hole that is Washington, D.C. But really Jesse, if the first black presidential contender can't preach to the choir, who can? Do you have an answer for that, buddy?

Didn't think so.

You're just a dour and sour, forgotten and confused soul with a school bus yellow jealous streak a mile wide.

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Good Job Congress. . .

I guess no one is packing a set of brass nads in the Senate these days.

I just read some analysis over at Michelle Malkin/HotAir courtesy of Allahpundit, who closely analyzed the video of the actual vote this morning.

Seems that Senator Brownback voted Yes for cloture this morning, thinking it was going to pass, but in the waning moments of the vote realizing the bill had failed, changed his vote to NO.

He must be soliciting advice from John Kerry who is the ultimate "voted for it, before I voted against it" Senator.

I would like to extend my sincerest thanks to the great people of this nation whose common voice was heard by our government, for once.

And if you ever hear another politician say, "we know it's not a great bill, but it's the best we can do", take two steps back and drop-kick that sumbitch in the balls. . .cause if they have balls, they sure ain't of the brass variety.

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