Dispatches from the Lair.
March 21, 2008
In general, I am not a huge fan of election cycles. People insist on talking at you about how their candidate is totally going to change everything and make it awesome. Which is annoying! And also, then later their candidate is elected and ends up selling F-18s to North Korea and sleeping around on his wife with Thai orphans and the whole thing is just awkward.
(I do however vote every chance I get, and try to read up on the issues so I know in advance who’s most and least likely to do really horrible things once in office.)
However! This election cycle is producing some things that are really making me laugh.
FOR INSTANCE. Some enterprising soul collected pictures of all the major* candidates when they were “young and hot”.
Such as this picture of Ralph Nader… punching a little girl in the face with an airbag? Jesus, Ralph.
The commenters say excellent things, like:
McCain spent five years in a POW camp and he comes home looking like a damn movie star. Then after ten years in Washington he looks like the Grinch. Life in Washington is hard.
Also, in the Lair of Inappropriateness, two dude executives have spent AN HOUR. Seriously. AN HOUR. talking about the following:
1. If your teenage daughter can be trusted not to slut it up if you let her go on dates.
2. How you can tell if your wife is lying to you.
3. You think you know, but you don’t, because your wife? TOTALLY LIES TO YOU.
5. Belief in God: for fools?
6. What to do if your son came home and announced his conversion to Islam.
7. What to do if your son came home and announced his homosexuality.
8. If that would be better or worse if you had several spare sons.
9. Wars America participates in.
10. People who buy their children expensive cars.
11. We should go to war against Venezuela. They have tons of oil.
Oooh! And now Meat Guy has just entered the Lair. He comes bearing gifts for Easter: “You want wine? Of course you drink wine, you big [expletive deleted]. White or red? Come on, come on-”
*Yes! I know Ralph Nader doesn’t count.