To look at this life…
Posted by Anntichrist S Coulter on February 27, 2007 – 6:49 am
…to look at my life, this go-round, one might think that I had committed some horrible offense in the last one… like giving Hitler a hand-job under the podium.
Not only am I having to ship my ‘puter off via the USPS, my trusty ol’ pickup is dying, one part at a time (like that Johnny Cash song in reverse). First, the transmission-casing started slipping and separating. Then, today, The Dick burnt the compressor on the a/c unit to a fucking CRISP. It’s a fucking BRICK now. And it was almost 80-fucking-DEGREES here today. Imagine what March is going to be like — Satan’s crotch-rot. Yeah, I know, billions of people all over the world have it worse, but not all of them would be rendered NULL AND VOID without that truck, either. Bad enough that I’ll be offline (unless a miracle occurs and the dozens of new transplants suddenly quit using the local library’s computers) for a couple weeks, imagine with NO WHEELS. I know, I know, an a/c-unit isn’t integral to the operation of a vehicle, but IT’S NOT A GOOD SIGN. 117,215 miles on the mutha so far.
Don’t have much of consequence to say for my last post in a while, except that I’ve invited, again, even more cool people to blog here (trusting that my semi-regular co-bloggers will chip-in as well), so that the four or five people who come here regularly won’t be bored titless. If anybody has George Clooney’s e-mail address, send him the link to the Levees.org post below.
And before any self-appointed sensitive people have a kitten over the “Silent Woman Entertainment” plaque (that I picked-up for 50 cents at a yard sale, many many moons ago), SHADDUP. I’ve heard people say that it’s “anti-feminist,” that it’s “offensive,” but personally, I find it to be PERFECTLY DESCRIPTIVE. ‘Cause, y’know, after all, that IS the only way that anybody will ever be able to TRULY shut me up. Oh, sure, you can kill my CD burner and keep me from sharing my onstage rants with the world, but the mouth will never die ’til you cut my fuckin’ head off. As long as I can bitch (via verbal and/or typing), I’m still kickin’.
The feral cats are doing well, and have picked-up a few new “friends” in the process, so it looks like we’ll have to do more than spay the Mama Cat, as she seems to have a couple new beaus lurking in the shadows. Tommie, Smudge, Ginger, Papi, and Callie are all doing well, as is Mama Cat and the newbies. Fat & spoiled for “feral” cats, I’d say. Biddy seems to be doing better, and we’ll get that lump off of her tail one of these days. Boy has picked up a bad limp in his right shoulder, ’cause he can’t use the step-stool to get off of that damned table, no, he has to LEAP off of it every time, and hell, he’s nine fucking years old, he’s no spring chicken. And the Boy DOES have arthritis, after all. Stubborn. Go figure.
Saw Susan today, NOW she’s saying that they might not even “be able” to do the RADIATION on Lee. Fucking brilliant. No, there are no new rosebeds in the neighborhood. I’m still too fucking pissed, hurt, disappointed, depressed by the whole clusterfuck to even swing.
No great insights to impart at the moment, the world is still a clusterfuck, and will probably still be so when I return. Al Gore needs a bitch-slapping for that cutesy little shit on the Oscars last night. And why in the fuck are Joe Lieberman & John McCain still wasting my fucking oxygen?!??!? Ugh. Dick Cheney is still ensconced in his United Arab Emirates hidey-hole whilst the Scooter Libby trial grinds into the ground, and will probably set up a remote dictatorship from those oil-rich environs, before it’s all over. Hell, he’s running the world from there ALREADY. No extradition treaty, either. Handy, iddinit? He flits around the world on the taxpayers’ dime, all the while skipping out of reach of our court system. Fuck, NIXON didn’t get away with shit like that. And Laura says that the war is “wearing” on her. Poor fucking baby. Hasn’t laid eyes on a single corpse, nor a single coffin, but it’s “WEARING” on the DWI Princess. Poor, poor baby. We should all just shut the fuck up and let them take over the world ’cause we don’t want to cause HER stress. Right. Cunt.
Send y’all’s love to my buds Rene’ & Maria, who are each tending to loved ones dealing with hellacious illnesses, and give your support to the free-range substitute-teacher bloggers who’ll be filling up this space with brilliance and humor in my stead.
And I send all of my love to y’all, my friends, readers, compatriots, and the bloggers who inspired me from day one. To all of the online buds who’ve helped me survive some of the hardest years of my life (whether y’all know it or not, I’ve never forgotten a single one of you or how you’ve been there for me), and to all of the wonderful people that I’ve met in the blogosphere who never fail to enlighten, inform, and uproariously amuse.
Nighty-night, kids. I’ll be back before you know it. But hey, just in case the computer gets lost in the mail, at least you can say that you knew me when!