“As president, I strongly believe that my first duty as president is to support and serve the president,” Bush said during a televised address from the East Room of the White House shortly after signing his executive order. “I promise the American people that I will not abuse this new power, unless it becomes necessary to grant myself the power to do so at a later time.”

The Presidential Empowerment Act, which the president hand-drafted on his own Oval Office stationery and promptly signed into law, provides Bush with full authority to permit himself to authorize increased jurisdiction over the three branches of the federal government, provided that the president considers it in his best interest to do so.

It’s one of those parodies that you’d laugh at if it didn’t seem so right up his fucking alley.

“As president, I strongly believe that my first duty as president is to support and serve the president,” Bush said during a televised address from the East Room of the White House shortly after signing his executive order. “I promise the American people that I will not abuse this new power, unless it becomes necessary to grant myself the power to do so at a later time.”

The Presidential Empowerment Act, which the president hand-drafted on his own Oval Office stationery and promptly signed into law, provides Bush with full authority to permit himself to authorize increased jurisdiction over the three branches of the federal government, provided that the president considers it in his best interest to do so.

It’s one of those parodies that you’d laugh at if it didn’t seem so right up his fucking alley.

I just got an e-mail from Amazon.com informing me that Battlestar Galactica Season 2.5, waiting in my cart to be preordered, has been reduced in price. Reduced in price one penny.

Well.

What a deal.

Really, if you’re reading this sentence, you should go re-read the title and ask yourself if there’s anything you’re about to read that I didn’t already fill you in on.

I was dumping out the mop water at work last night, mere minutes away from leaving and running over to Gucci Giant and making an ATM deposit and buying milk. I love milk. Skim milk, that is. Stranded on a desert island and I can only take one beverage for ever and ever and ever? Not water. Not beer. Not liquid gold. Skim milk. There’s nothing like waking up with a parched throat at five am and drowning it with a long swig of cold liquid goodness, straight from the jug. Remember that big snow storm March 2003? Anticipating — correctly, as it turned out — I would be snowbound for several days (Sunday until Wednesday!), I ran to the grocery store, but though my cabinets were bare, I did not buy food. Nay, I bought four jugs of skim milk. Point is: I heart milk. Anyway, my apartment is totally milkless. I had some ice cream. It’s gone now. My poor, inadequate dairy fix.

So, anyway, I’m horny for milk, and I’m dumping out the mop bucket. And when I say horny, I don’t mean, “I wanna fuck a milk jug.” I just wanna chug a glass of milk. Anyway, mop bucket, dumping, and I splash myself. Here’s how I describe it: it’s like you’re walking around thinking, ‘hmm, gotta pee’, but instead of finding a toilet to pee in, you think ‘hmm, these shorts can function adequately as a toilet’ and then proceed to use your shorts as a toilet. Now, I did not proceed to use my shorts as a toilet, but thanks to the mop bucket, it looked like I had.

Clearly, I couldn’t go to Giant looking like I’d peed my pants. I’d have to go home first, get the laundry out of the dryer (where I’d stuck it and left it running on my way out the door to work), change, and go to Giant, a total waste of time. But again, I couldn’t go to Giant looking like I’d peed my pants. Because I care what people I don’t know think about me.

So I get home, and I grab the laundry basket out of the laundry room, yada-yada-yada, and I bring it into my wonderful, very cold apartment (I forgot to turn off the a/c heading out the door), leave it by the couch, and I go to the bathroom to do my business. As I emerge from the bathroom, I see Guy in the laundry basket, and I get bothered, because now there’s cat fur on the clean stuff. Then he gives me this look I can’t quite place, and starts shaking his ass, and I recognize the look as the one he gives me when I walk into the bathroom and he’s in the litter box.

Apparently, his new litter box is the clean laundry. He goes “piss!” and I go “fuck!”, and the fuck has a couple of reasons to it, primarily because a.) why! the! clean! laundry? and b.) I just cleaned the fucking litterbox! Clean litterbox! and c.) where the eff am I going to get three bucks in quarters to redo this laundry? and d.) no milk for you, Snay.

Thankfully, most of the urine wound up pooling on a shirt I didn’t like anyway. That just got pitched.

Guy was around while I was writing this, trying to play. I gave him a nasty look and he mewled. Right as I was settling to bed he jumped up, wanting some forgiveness cuddling. I swept my leg out and sent him to the floor. Stupid fucking cat: I JUST CLEANED THE LITTERBOX! Why do you hate me so?! WHY?!

Grrrr.

Dwight Schrute fantasizes on his blog:

First of all, they would have lasers. Adama would quickly secure the
hatch for his crew. The survivors of the Oceanic flight 815 would be
herded up like little children and inspected like cattle.

“Could these people actually be Cylons!” Starbuck would be thinking
to herself. Then she would think, “That one who calls himself Sawyer
is pretty hot. I wonder what he would look like swimming in just his
jeans.”

Starbuck would take Sawyer on a reconnoiter of the island and they
would visit the swimming hole and start necking. And then Kate and
Apollo would stumble upon them and they would all be getting it on
when a huge crashing would come through the jungle and one of those
huge unseen monsters would tower above them (the monsters that
disappeared after episode 8 of season 1) and they would be
screaming.

I’m screaming too, but not because the huge unseen monsters that disappeared after episode 8 of season 1 are towering over a necking Sawyer & Starbuck.

(Besides, any decent geek who knows his shows knows that the guns on BSG fire bullets! DUH! Apparently, I AM A GEEK!)

This post, dedicated to my friends Emily & Lisa, who at one point many years ago (when we were all young and feckless) got a custom Maryland license tag inscriped, for their yellow Hyundia sCoupe, “XSoup4U” in homage to their favorite episode of their favorite tv show.

Make sure to check out the full Brickshelf gallery. And here, if you’re a fan of Peanuts.

(They never mounted the tags on their car, silly girls).

(I’m still feckless).

Wow. The first online quiz to be wrong! I would never brutally slaughter a nerd with by beating them to death with a poorly mastered season set of Star Trek! Now would I hack up their body parts and hide them throughout a 7′ tall Lego castle! No. Never.

Wow. The first online quiz to be wrong! I would never brutally slaughter a nerd with by beating them to death with a poorly mastered season set of Star Trek! Now would I hack up their body parts and hide them throughout a 7′ tall Lego castle! No. Never.