James Dobson, cracker-ass evangelist extraordinaire, when speaking about Barack Obama said…..wait for it…

“I think he’s deliberately distorting the traditional understanding of the Bible to fit his own worldview, his own confused theology,”

“… He is dragging biblical understanding through the gutter.”

Oh Fortune, how you mock me.  Art, Life - what’s the difference?

This may be better than the midget.

Complete article here.

Last night, I met a midget. With rickets.

I have the best life ever.

I just took a call from a potential client who wanted to know if it was legal under Hawaii law to videotape the actions of other people, without their consent, in a condominium of which he, and the people he wants to videotape, are all part owners. 

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Because I think that what they’re doing is immoral.”

“Um, okay.  I’m sorry, we don’t handle those kind of issues. You going have to find somebody else.”

The best part - the all have the same last name, so it’s either father watching daughter or wife or some other combination I don’t really want to envision.

I am such a junkie.

I just found two nicotine patches in my drawer at work.  The big ones - 21 mg. 

My first thought - “Dude!  I bet in a month, I could slap one of these bitches on and be high all day.”

Because I’m slammin’ busy today at work, and I’ve vowed to write more, I’m stealing a post from Will over at Be the Boy. 

The post being:

Who are you and how did you stumble into Grampa’s House?

I’ve decided that, since the untimely deaths of Bill Hicks, Richard Pryor and Sam Kinison and the dearth of new material from George Carlin, that Lewis Black is my current favorite living comedian.

That is all.

Yeah, so, I’m in a complete, total, undrugged but dead sleep when my alarm starts going off.  I’m lying there thinking, surely it can’t be six already, right? 

Right.

I look over at the clock, it reads 4:00 a.m. Cool, I’m thinking I got another two hours after I stumble into the bathroom and take a piss.

Then, I hear the rooster crow across the street (no shit).  So, bloodshot and bleary, I stumble into the kitchen where all the clocks say 6:00 a.m.  I go back into my room, look at my clock: 4:05.  I look at when the alarm is set to go off: 6:00.

I feel fairly certain that the underpants gnomes have been up to their old tricks again.

Yeah, so I went and saw the new Coen brothers’ (who I love) movie last night.  All I can say is, “Wow!”

A couple of things, though, this movie is not for the squeamish and it has an abrupt ending.

However, it was one of those movies that I totally love - a true tragedy, but without the catharsis - it ends with no resolution and you’re left with just a feeling of hollowness, or maybe awe.

Definitely a must see.  I might go see it again.

The Father of Rock, and the owner a mean bitch slap, Ike Turner is dead at 76.

As he walks away, into the shadowy mists of time, he says, “Now Rick James and I are going to go found the National Organization of Women!”

Today has just been a wonderful day.  I cleaned my house, went to Kona to Walmart and CostCo, got my full workout in, made chicken fajitas and just had a wonderful conversation with a new little brown girl.

Oh, and I saw the greatest bumper sticker EVER:

Jesus Loves You.
Everyone Else Thinks You’re an Asshole

Goodnight Jesus (and everyone really does think you’re an asshole).