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Okay, Denizens, Part Deux of “Rip A New One For The Jackass Who Posted A Comment In An Old Thread” commences here with a post in the same thread as before, this time from someone going under the handle of “GWB”..

MERLIN:  Oh, isn’t he just sooooooo  clever…???

KORRIOTH:  Too clever by half is more like it.

OZY MCCOOL:  Really, m’Liege, can we not attract a better class of troll than this?

LSIK&T:  (shrug)  Eh.  Maybe if I were a little more tolerant…

KORRIOTH:  SNXXXXXXXXXXXX!!!!!!!!!!  Damn, Admrial, how about a spew warning next time?!

MERLIN:  You?  Tolerant?  That’ll  be the day…

OZY MCCOOL

LSIK&T:  Awright, already!  You guys can have your 10% raise!

ALL:  (raucous cheering)

…who goes on to write

i agree with u sayin u’ve been throwin your vote out for lies u were given…

OZY MCCOOL:  What, did e.e. cummings get reincarnated or sum’pin’?

MERLIN:  Not unless I was drunk or Lancelot somehow got hold of my eye of newt.

OZY MCCOOL:  What does Speaker Gingrich have to do with this…?

LSIK&T:  Kor…?

KORRIOTH:  (thwocks McCool upside the head)

OZY MCCOOL:  Ow!

My last hope is Ron Paul cuz if america does not vote for him or if he gets elected and he turns out to be a lier like others also…

KORRIOTH:  Oh, Cthulu, not one of them

MERLIN:  Isn’t he the guy that blamed the US for 9/11…?

LSIK&T:  Yep, that’s the one.  Quite the asshat, isn’t he?

OZY MCCOOL:  Can I have what he’s smokin’?

KORRIOTH:  Paul or GWB?

OZY MCCOOL:  Yes.

LSIK&T:  I think I’d rather let you have unfettered access to the Romulan ale…

then base of this country is going to be in a great danger imposed by its own actions… consequences are going to show themselves for EVERYONE in this world not just americans… there will be hard times ahead of us if another lier gets elected to the office this time…!

KORRIOTH:  Awright, in the first place – who’s this “lier” to whom this moron’s referring…?

MERLIN:  Five’ll get you ten it’s President Bush.

OZY MCCOOL:  I suppose he has proof that Bush lied…?

LSIK&T:  (shakes head) Ozy, Ozy, Ozy…

KORRIOTH:  He’s a fookin’ libtard,  fer Gawd’s sake.  Have they ever  worried about proof???

OZY MCCOOL:  (hangs head) Sorry.  Shoulda known better.

LSIK&T:  Look on the bright side, Oz.  Years from now, you’ll be beating your own  trainee upside the head…

Kinda like I’d like to do with the fuckwit “GWB”.

Tune in next time for another rousing rendition of “Rip A New One For The Jackass Who Posted A Comment In An Old Thread”!!!  Coming soon, I’m sure! 

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Okay, boyz & girlz, it’s time once again to play His Rudeness’ 17th-favorite game, “Rip A New One For The Jackass Who Posted A Comment In An Old Thread”!!!  (And no, I still haven’t found the list of the first 16.)

Today’s first contestant is a lame-assed loser from Corvallis, Oregon named “Ralphus”, who…

OZY MCCOOL:  Sounds like vomiting to me.

MERLIN:  Hell, if you spent your whole life in all that patchouli, you’d vomit too.

KORRIOTH:  Can he help it if all he’s got up there are the Portland TrailBlazers?

LSIK&T:  Point.

…who commented in this entry thusly:

They call it CFPA, but it’s quite obviously NAISM, you stupid fuck.

MERLIN:  CFPA?

OZY MCCOOL:  NAISM?

LSIK&T:  I think he might be referring to the Christian Falangist Party of America or somesuch.  I don’t know what  the doucherifle means by NAISM.

KORRIOTH:  Hmmm.  A Christian Right political party…pro-life, anti-gun control, anti-heterophobe PDA…

OZY MCCOOL:  Hey, let’s annex ‘em!

MERLIN:  I thought this guy was trying to insult you…?

LSIK&T:  (shrugs) Have you ever known a liberal to do anything  right?

MERLIN:  Point.

KORRIOTH:  Didn’t you just rip the Empire’s tech wizard for using Wikipedia?

LSIK&T:  Yeah, but at least I used Yahoo! first.  They didn’t have much.

Not that being a Repugnantcan is that far from it at it’s core, but at least most ‘Pug are smart enough to hide it better. Just look at the barely hidden swastika, dipshit.

OZY MCCOOL:  I smell a violation of Godwin’s Law here.

LSIK&T:  Trust me, McCool – that’s not a violation of any law you’re smelling.

MERLIN:  Great Honkin’ Cthulu™, what did he have for lunch that day?  A garlic-onion-patchouli casserole?

KORRIOTH:  I think it smells rather nice, myself.

LSIK&T:  You would.

I stumbled onto this site as well, and after your comment and link, as an American, I see that I am in enemy territory.

OZY MCCOOL:  So now Oregon’s “enemy territory”?

MERLIN:  Given the half-assed excuse-for-government they’ve got up there, that’s the first thing he’s gotten right all day.

KORRIOTH:  Government of the pansy-assed, by the pansy-assed, for the pansy-assed?

LSIK&T:  Give the Klingon a prize.

Do the world and off youself. Take some of you ilk with you. Hope you like it warm, because you’ll be spending quite a bit of time in hell.

Hey, vomit-boy, s’pose you come out from behind your daddy’s hoop skirt, head on down here and give it a try, hm?  Let’s see what a bad-ass you really are, pussy.

KORRIOTH:  You don’t really expect him to come down and get his ass-whipping, do you?

LSIK&T:  Nah.  Hell, I can’t even get’m to come over from the next fuckin’ county – why would I expect a colostomy-bag from Oregon to make it down?

OZY MCCOOL:  Point.

NEXT:  Part II of this little game.

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Denizens, your homework assignment for this weekend is to read this essay by LC & IB Guy S. over at the Cigar Intelligence Agency (it’s crossposted at Snugg Harbor if for any reason the CIA link doesn’t work).

This is Damned Good Stuff™, and it is well worth your time to read.

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As I recall, I promised you here a 2006 Year In Review™.

So, here goes:

Year sucked.  Except for the last three months, from a personal standpoint.

Jorge Arbusto, El Weeniedente™ (credit:  Emperor Misha) governed like a Demoscum.  Electorate told him, “Oh, so you like  Demoscum???”, and gave him more to play with.

Area sports teams sucked all year long.  Except for TCU’s Horned Frogs (Riff Ram Bah Zoo).

Lost a lot of famous people.  Don’t feel like going back and cataloguing them all.

Dow increased in value again.  Economy rolling along.  Demoscum furious.

Met girl.  Promoted to girlfriend.  (Future promotions follow, but that’s for the YIR 2007.)

Texas Blogfest 2006 was qualified success (good food, good company with the Blown-Eyed Blodgers, good shooting, just not enough Blogfesters there).

End of review.  So it’s a little late.  Bite me Sue me.

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Awright, Denizens – front ‘n center, all youse guys.

With the official beginning of C’boys Trainin’ Camp™ down in the land of Mr. & Mrs Desperate Slutski San Antonio, comes now the advent of our…

KORRIOTH:  What’s with this “our”, O Ye of the Smooth Forehead?

LSIK&T:  You want I should ram a painstick up that schnozz of yours, Bumpy?

KORRIOTH:  Promises, promises.

LSIK&T:  Oh, hush.  Go finish yer prune juice while I talk with the masses.

KORRIOTH:  (grunt)

…uh, where was I?

Oh, yeah.  Of our favorite yearly diversion, the Perfect Football Weekend™.

As you know, the Perfect Football Weekend™, or PFW for short, is a weekly event whereby I track four or five of my favorite teams, from “hah skrewl” (a little Rush lingo, there) to the pros.  A PFW is scored when all of my teams win – or, in the case of some  teams (Turner Gill, call your office), at least manage to cover the spread.

In 2007, I will be tracking the following squads:

1.  The (Fort Worth) Arlington Heights Yellow Jackets.  Coach Duke Christian and my alma mater Yellow Jackets are coming off their third straight playoff one-and-done, and for some-odd reason, they’ve lost their stud do-it-all back, Donnell Dickerson.  Last year’s squad snuck into the playoffs despite an overall losing record.  Things don’t look much better this year.

2.  The Texas Christian University Horned Frogs.  Season six of the enigma that is the odyssey known as the Gary Patterson Era begins September 1st when Baylor returns the visit that the Froggies paid ‘em last year.  Patterson’s crew is once again picked to win the Mountain West Conference – but then, they were picked last  year and went 0-for-Utah.  Considering that the TU Shortdicks are on the schedule this year, 9-3 doesn’t sound too terrible.

3.  The University of Oklahoma Sooners.  Bob Stoops still loves to win and hates to lose.  But he’s no longer the pompous ass this scribe took him for several years ago, so he’s again on my favorites list.  He’s having to replace two-thirds of his 2006 starting backfield, but Malcolm Kelly will return at WR, so that’s bound to help.  Look for a second-place finish in the Big 12 South.

4.  The Louisiana State University Tigers.  As long as Bo Pelini is still their defensive coordinator (as opposed to being Nebraska’s head coach, which is where he should be), this scribe will follow that team.  Geaux Tigers!!! 

5.  The University of Buffalo Bulls.  Coach Turner Gill (with whom I went to school Back In The Day™) returns for his second season as UB head coach.  Buffalo went 1-10 last year, and didn’t much cover the spread in that many of ‘em.

Hence, we change the rules a bit regarding the UBers:  A victory will be scored for the Bulls when they either win, or come within 14 points of the spread (which will be posted on PFW Fridays).  ‘Course, if they do as crappy this year, I’ll replace them with the Sisters of the Deaf, Halt & Blind.

6.  The Dallas Cowboys.  Wade Phillips (yeah, that’s Bum’s son) begins his tenure as Jerry Jones’ Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread™.  Tony Romo is now starting for the ‘Boys, so there’ll be no further posts entitled “Starring Drew Bledsoe as Vinny Testeverde”.  I’m gonna go out on a limb and predict an 11-5 finish.  (However, as long as they go 4-0 against Phuckadelphia and the Warshington Foreskins, the final record could be 4-12 for all I give a shit.)

As usual, I must issue the disclaimer that I follow my  teams, and I don’t give a fat rat’s ass about yours.  That’s what the comments are for (talk as much smack about your fave teams as you want), and as long as the libtards are cordial, they’re invited to talk about their teams, too.

First preseason games are in about two weeks, so let’s everyone gear up for F’ball, You Bet™!!! 

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Those who’ve been here since the Bogsnot days know what this means…

(Dial-up Denizens may have to wait a bit longer.)

That’s right, sportz fans – I’m on vacation.  PARTY TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 

The PFW overview will be tomorrow or so.  Today, La Reina Espátula & I are going house-hunting.

Watch this space.

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Denizens, we’re about 48 hours or so away from the end of the doldrums of summer and having to put up with the Texass stRangers.

I speak, of course, of the opening of Dallas Cowboys training camp – and the humongously-anticipated return of the Perfect Football Weekend™.

We’ll do the overview on Wednesday, then start blogging on football stuff, hopefully to the exclusion of damned near everything else.

Stay tuned.

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Her pain is finally over.

Tammy Faye Bakker Messner has passed at age 65.  Her ex-husband, Jim Bakker, personified everything that was is wrong with the genre we know today as teleevangelism, when he single-handedly (single dick-ed-ly?) destroyed an entire industry with one single extramarital affair.

For five years thereafter, she portrayed the penultimate stand-by-her-man woman – the type that Queen Hilarious pooh-poohed in 1992 before becoming that type of woman herself.  (Bill brings in that campaign cash, y’know.)

Spatula City BBS! extends its condolences to Tammy Faye’s family.  You guys have our prayers.

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You’re a star.  A Big Man On Campus™, as it were.  Have been since your college days.  You have endorsements running out the wazoo.  Hell, your endorsements  have endorsements.

People worship the ground on which you walk.  You don’t have mere stardom predicted for you – you have superstardom virtually guaranteed.  At least two or three publications have already annointed you the greatest to ever do what you do, you’re that good.  It’s only a matter of time before the championships, the trophies and even more accolades begin to flow for you like champagne.

You have it fucking made.  I mean, we are literally talking set for freaking life  here.  You could live off the interest from the interest  from your endorsements alone.

Moreover, all competition for your job has just recently been removed, banished to the dregs of the underworld of your industry.  In short, you couldn’t script your life any better.

So what in Cthulu’s fucking name are you doing pissing it all away by engaging in criminal activity?!?!?!?!  Why the Hell™ do you risk it all by doing something you know  to be illegal???

Welcome to Hell, Michael Vick.  How do  you like it?

I tell you, Denizens, our society’s going down the tubes at warp speed.  When people to whom we enjoy looking up – folks like Vick and Chris Benoit – begin falling by the wayside and letting us down, it’s bleak days for all of us.

(Incidentally, guys, while I said previously (and still say, for that matter) that I don’t think steroids as we know them had anything to do with this, the Benoit link states that Benoit had “steroid testosterone” in his system, as if testosterone is now some sort of anabolic steroid.  Hell, I guess that means that I and the rest of the Right Side of the Blogosphere™ are at risk for ‘roid rage?)

They’re calling for a minimum one-year suspension of Vick.  Sorry, but that’s too fucking lenient, IYAM.  I’d be in favor of a lifetime ban for this.  These allegations unequivocally point to a network of organized crime here.  Perhaps not the Tony Soprano-type mob activity of which you & I think when we hear that phrase, but organized crime nonetheless.  And to let Vick ever play in the NFL again would allow people to link the two – which is the absolute last  thing the NFL should want.

PETA, much as I despise them usually, has it right on this one:  Sack Vick.

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Big main event coming up at SpatulaCentral this evening:  Us vs. our daughter.

Tonight, we Lay Down The Law™ to our child, and she will no doubt shriek a la  San Fran Nan Pelosi about it.

If the place weren’t so damned small, I’d sell tickets.

UPDATE:  Well, not so fast.

Received a bit of news last night that sort of put things on hold.  If I’m to believe my daughter, the aforementioned pond scum (i.e. the bastard who got my daughter preggers) is history.

(Insert all the happy dances you want here.    )

So we’ll put off the battle royal for a bit.  Watch this space.

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Haven’t had a lot of time to write anything the last couple of days, Denizens, so here’s something from the Grab-Bag™, courtesy of the Mothergoose from Denton:

Finally, the guys side of the story. I must admit, it’s pretty good.

We always hear “the rules” from the female side. Now here are the rules from the male side. These are our rules! Please note… these are all numbered “1″ ON PURPOSE!

1. Learn to work the toilet seat. You’re a big girl. If it’s up, put it down….. We need it up, you need it down. You don’t hear us complaining about you leaving it down.

1. Sunday = sports. It’s like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be.

1. Shopping is NOT a sport. And no, we are never going to think of it that way.

1. Crying is blackmail.

1. Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one: Subtle hints do not work! Strong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work! Just say it!

1. Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.

1. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That’s what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.

1. A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor.

1. Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 days.

1. If you won’t dress like the Victoria’s Secret girls, don’t expect us to act like soap opera guys.

1. If you think you’re fat, you probably are. Don’t ask us.

1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways, and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.

1. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.

1. Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during commercials.

1. Christopher Columbus did not need directions and neither do we.

1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.

1. If it itches, it will be scratched. We do that.

1. If we ask what is wrong and you say “nothing,” we will act like nothing’s wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.

1. If you ask a question you don’t want an answer to, expect an answer you don’t want to hear.

1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine… Really.

1. Don’t ask us what we’re thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as baseball, the shotgun formation, or monster trucks.

1. You have enough clothes.

1. You have too many shoes.

1. I am in shape. Round is a shape.

1. Thank you for reading this; Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight, but did you know men really don’t mind that, it’s like camping.

Well, except you don’t get to fish. 

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[SCENE:  Aboard PegasusOzy McCool and T-Bone McManx are reading an article about The Hawtest British Couple In The History Of Ever, Ever!™.  Huge pools of saliva have formed on the deck of the bridge.]

OZY MCCOOL:  (drool)

T-BONE MCMANX:  (drool!!!)

[In comes our hero, Lord Spatula I, King & Tyrant, with his first officer and right-hand Klingon, Korrioth.  A look of disgust crosses Spats' face, while Korrioth effects a smirk, knowing what's coming and gleefully anticipating it.]

LSIK&T:  Ahem.

[Ozy's and T-Bone's faces have a race to see which one blanches first.  Ozy's wins...but it's close.]

OZY MCCOOL:  Sir!…uh…um…Admiral on the bridge?

T-BONE MCMANX:  (gulp)

LSIK&T:  Would either of you mind showing me why you’re creating Drool Lake™ on the bridge of my ship?

[McCool hands Spats the article, and a picture.]

LSIK&T  (sigh) Mr. Korrioth, would you mind escorting Mr. McCool and Mr. McManx to their quarters before Drool Lake™ becomes…ah…

KORRIOTH:  (grunt)

[Korrioth grabs the two by the scruff of their necks and leaves the bridge.]

Really, guys, Posh Victoria whatever the Hell™ she wants to be called…she’s cute and all, but I’ve seen better.

And if you ask me, she needs to fire her stylist.  Silky Pony boy John-John Edwards gets better haircuts. 

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Well, Denizens, it’s been two years now, and the pussy still hasn’t shown up.

That’s right, sportz fanz.  The Right Douchebag Reverend of the Church of the SubTarded, Michael “Mykki Chickenshit” Cortese, late of Alexandria, VA (or was it Arlington, VA?  We still  don’t know), was called out for his ripping of those of the Christian faith, calling them “cowards”, invited to spew his bullshit to my face – and he’s never showed.

He bitched long & loud about my living in a gated community, whereupon I moved to a complex that has no such gate – and he never showed.

He posted videos of himself playing with his inflatable dolls – dolls that couldn’t fight back – but he never grew large enough balls to show up on my doorstep.

He posted on Slashdick and everywhere else that liberal pussies congregate – but neither he nor any of his needledick-sucking sycophants ever showed up.

He, through his sockpuppet “Von Vockerman”, offered a meager $66 to “reimburse” me for a trip to Tennessee for a supposed “showdown” (we’ll forget for the moment that it costs a helluva lot more than $66 to go to Tennessee, never mind coming home) – then never sent the money (the guess from here is that he never planned on showing up, either).

Two years after bleating to the world what a hot shit you think you are, Cortese, you’re still a fucking douchebag content to hide behind the skirt of that skank to which you’re married (or are you just shacking up like the rest of the ’60s hippies rejects?).  You’re nothing but a son-of-a-crack-whore-bitch who doesn’t have the balls to back up his big talk.  Nothing but a huge pussy.

But then again, I suppose you have your reasons for not coming down.  It would,  after all, be a terrible shock to the regulars of the Alexandria (Arlington?) bathhouses if you were rendered ball-less and could no longer “service” them.

ESAD, Cortese, you fucking limp-wristed coward.  Do the world a favor, shove that M-1 of yours up your piehole and pull the trigger.

Assuming you haven’t somehow managed to break it, maybe there won’t be too  much of a mess.

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La Reina Espátula™ and I went for a walk tonight.  Made the block just east of SpatulaCentral.  Provided a buffet for several mosquitos – some of which even survived to tell about it. 

But the biggest rush of all?

‘Twas the first time I got to walk that far, for that long, while taking full advantage of my CHL.

That’s right.  I was packing.  (No, I’m not  gonna tell you where it was, just in case some goblin reads this blog.)  Even talked La Reina™ into going shooting with me on our vacation two weeks hence.

Damn, this was a productive night. 

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And on the occasion of the slut’s wedding to the surrender monkey, it behooves me to remind you of my opinion about them from a year ago.

I give this one four years, tops.

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