Copacabana

Banjo, drop the underwear

Alright, I'm pretty much sick and tired of tip-toeing around things so no one gets offended. Here's the deal:

I'm pretty much libertarian when it comes to the social issues side of politics. I believe people have the right to make the decisions they feel are best for them. I also do not think it is my place to judge those decisions. If you tread on me, I will tell you. If your behavior treads on society at large, a policy may be in order. But it is a principle tenet of my life philosophy not to go around making people feel like shit for being themselves (although, and recently I was reminded of this, many, many people who demand this kind of acceptance do not offer the same in return. And they suck for that. Just sayin'.) So, I can get behind the idea that the Right's strict adherence to certain social policy issues is debatable.

However, if one more Obama-ite talks to me about pork-barrel spending I'm going to laugh in their face and call them an 'effing poorly-educated idiot. You see, I am extremely conservative on the fiscal issues side (although I know my parents are roaring with laughter about the irony of that statement...) and the redistribution of wealth is not only always a failed policy it's also a dangerous one. Here's Boortz with the numbers (scroll down to OBAMA'S NEW TACTIC: THEY ARE LYING) --- please, for the love of all all things righteous and just, and so you don't look like a complete ass at your next cocktail party, read it. All the links, too. I know it's hard and boring. Education often is.

Also, to the three people in the last two weeks who have skirted my periphery again -- one who "accidentally" bumped into me at the restaurant, one who sent me a charming email and one who always creeps up to the back door, reminding me of their existence by befriending my friends, I have a little message to you:

There's this scene in one of my all-time favorite movies, Grosse Pointe Blank, where the hitman goes to his 10-year high school reunion and has to tell the cokehead jock who always messed with him in high school -- and who has never moved past that stage -- that a relationship between them does not exist.

"Do you *really* believe that there's some stored up conflict that exists between us? There *is* no us. *We* don't exist. So who do you wanna hit, man? It's not me. Now whaddya wanna do here, man?"

Understand? Look, I owe all three of you a debt of gratitude. You all helped me dodge a bullet -- two by showing me the gun before it was fired and one by jumping in front of me and taking the bullet for your own. So thanks. Sincerely. Without you, I wouldn't be where I am today -- which is to say reasonably sane and operating under the belief that the world isn't populated exclusively by horrible people who do terrible, selfish things for their own gain. You have all three been a cautionary tale: be careful what you wish for cause you just might get it. Lesson learned. I thank you for your time. Now, really, move on. No, really --- it's time.

Here's a video my friend who recently moved to Iowa (or Idaho - too lazy to check) took of her dogs' new plaything and it's insanely awesome, and a doctored-up photo of Gill that I could just kiss him for. Ah Gill, how I miss being privy to your shenanigans on a daily basis...






Oh yeah -- danced to this last night. Listen to "Starstruck." Thanks for the new music dance teacher extrordinaire.

Have a glorious weekend.

posted by Lola @ 1:09 PM