A couple of links, a couple of noodles--sounds like sausage soup to me!
Here is an article about the Republican Veep candidate who considers herself not only an intellectual but also an advocate for autistic children, but who can't figure out that some of those fruit fly experiments have directly affected, to the positive, research regarding the origins and potential cures for autism in children....
Oh, and this one, where our very own Michele "Joe McCarthy" Bachmann indicates that not all culture is equal, and that cultural diversity is only pretty on its face, but it is, in fact, an insidious plot to overthrow the beauty and dignity that is Western White Culture....
And now that you've had, in the words of the Greaseman, the original shock jock, your daily puke, I'll go on to more mundane things.
I am done with work for the week. I am. I was going to do more over the weekend, but I'm in a strange state of "I don't give a shit", and will, in fact, refuse to open the work laptop all weekend. I'm going to make pies, and carve pumpkins, and watch TV and try not to chew my nails to the quick in anticipation of November 4th.
I'm a little tipsy from a half a bottle of well deserved wine, and Olbermann is on, and I'm looking at the bottle of vitamin C because I'm feeling nose-tickly, and thinking that I'm glad that ^(&^(%*^&($^%#^$#&(* alarm is not going to go off in the morning....
And in this state of tipsy, I just want to say one thing...
You are my friends. And even though I've been writing a lot of political stuff and obsessing fairly hard over such things, I want to assure you that you--you as lovable and adorable individuals--are not forgotten in all of this. I still pray for you--I still love you--I still worry so much about you--I still read the things going on in your life. You are still most adored, and more important that all this stuff.
I hear you. Your voices are not lost in the clash and bang of all this other stuff. And believe me, part of the reason I care about this is because I care about you--your ability to make a living wage. Your ability to obtain good healthcare. Your ability to live as you please, and love who you please, and marry who you please, and the ability to have everything you work so hard for, and the ability to strive for all those things you dream of.
None of you are forgotten--whether we agree or disagree.
All of you are loved.
Your Belle--who has just enough liquor in her to have it become blatantly obvious to her the kind of heroes that each of you are.
Oh, and this one, where our very own Michele "Joe McCarthy" Bachmann indicates that not all culture is equal, and that cultural diversity is only pretty on its face, but it is, in fact, an insidious plot to overthrow the beauty and dignity that is Western White Culture....
And now that you've had, in the words of the Greaseman, the original shock jock, your daily puke, I'll go on to more mundane things.
I am done with work for the week. I am. I was going to do more over the weekend, but I'm in a strange state of "I don't give a shit", and will, in fact, refuse to open the work laptop all weekend. I'm going to make pies, and carve pumpkins, and watch TV and try not to chew my nails to the quick in anticipation of November 4th.
I'm a little tipsy from a half a bottle of well deserved wine, and Olbermann is on, and I'm looking at the bottle of vitamin C because I'm feeling nose-tickly, and thinking that I'm glad that ^(&^(%*^&($^%#^$#&(* alarm is not going to go off in the morning....
And in this state of tipsy, I just want to say one thing...
You are my friends. And even though I've been writing a lot of political stuff and obsessing fairly hard over such things, I want to assure you that you--you as lovable and adorable individuals--are not forgotten in all of this. I still pray for you--I still love you--I still worry so much about you--I still read the things going on in your life. You are still most adored, and more important that all this stuff.
I hear you. Your voices are not lost in the clash and bang of all this other stuff. And believe me, part of the reason I care about this is because I care about you--your ability to make a living wage. Your ability to obtain good healthcare. Your ability to live as you please, and love who you please, and marry who you please, and the ability to have everything you work so hard for, and the ability to strive for all those things you dream of.
None of you are forgotten--whether we agree or disagree.
All of you are loved.
Your Belle--who has just enough liquor in her to have it become blatantly obvious to her the kind of heroes that each of you are.