Let's turn this whole place upside-down and shake it 'til the coins come falling out of its pockets.
I bet there’s some part of Gabrielle Giffords that really wants to say, “I can handle being shot in the head, but I can’t take another minute with you bastards!”
On Twitter I keep seeing the tag #FLDebate and wondering who’s debating about FetLife.
I think it would be really funny if you ever met Sidney Poitier to pretend you thought he was Harry Belafonte. DAAAAY-O!!
If you don’t understand why Wikipedia and WikiLeaks are not the same thing, maybe you should keep your opinions about Internet-related legislation to yourself.
Dear Mucinex D,
Very often people who are taking your product have very sore throats and find it difficult to swallow giganto tablets of sandpaper. Seriously, could you find a way to make these things a little smaller? Maybe coat them with something? Or, hell, put it in a syringe and just let me inject it into my eyeball, I really don’t care at this point. I just want it to stop!
I want to shake the (freshly washed) hand of whoever got Rick Santorum to pose with this sign!
Well, obviously you would want to spring for the free Internet.
Anyone who predicts the world will end on Dec. 21, 2012 should be required to commit suicide by Jan. 1, 2013.
I’m stubborn as those garbage bags that time cannot decay.
Happened upon this song tonight after not hearing it for a while. It’s strange (and sometimes a little sad) how old songs can get more relevant over time.
Whatever needed to be said, Bob Dylan probably said it. But if he didn’t, Leonard Cohen did. Case in point:
It’s coming through a hole in the air.
From those nights in Tiananmen Square.
It’s coming from the feel that this ain’t exactly real
Or it’s real but it ain’t exactly there.
From the wars against disorder, from the sirens night and day,
From the fires of the homeless, from the ashes of the gay.
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It’s coming through a crack in the wall
On a visionary flood of alcohol,
From the staggering account of the Sermon on the Mount
Which I don’t pretend to understand at all.
It’s coming from the silence on the dock of the bay,
From the brave, the bold, the battered heart of Chevrolet.
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It’s coming from the sorrow in the street,
The holy places where the races meet,
From the homicidal bitchin’ that goes down in every kitchen
To determine who will serve and who will eat.
From the wells of disappointment where the women kneel to pray
For the grace of God in the desert here and the desert far away.
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on
O mighty Ship of State!
To the Shores of Need
Past the Reefs of Greed
Through the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.
It’s coming to America first,
The cradle of the best and of the worst.
It’s here they got the range and the machinery for change
and it’s here they got the spiritual thirst.
It’s here the family’s broken and it’s here the lonely say
That the heart has got to open in a fundamental way.
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It’s coming from the women and the men.
Oh baby, we’ll be making love again.
We’ll be going down so deep the river’s going to weep
And the mountain’s going to shout “Amen!”
It’s coming like the tidal flood beneath the lunar sway,
Imperial, mysterious, in amorous array.
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on
O mighty Ship of State!
To the Shores of Need
Past the Reefs of Greed
Through the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.
I’m sentimental, if you know what I mean.
I love the country but I can’t stand the scene.
And I’m neither left or right. I’m just staying home tonight
Getting lost in that hopeless little screen.
But I’m stubborn as those garbage bags that time cannot decay.
I’m junk but I’m still holding up this little wild bouquet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It’s like inducting Rickie Lee Jones before the Beach Boys.
Been watching way too much Chopped and Iron Chef. I just cooked naan in applewood bacon grease and smoked paprika. And it was fuckin’ AMAZING!!!
