John Kerry:  “Whatever you need, it’s yours.  Need a job?  You got it.  Need a higher living wage? Done.  Need cheap, universal healthcare?  I’m your man.  Need a better education?  Have at it, paid in full.  Relying on social security for your retirement?  I’ll put it in a lock box.  Tax relief?  I can give you that, too.  Want to lose your virginity to a teenage Mexicali hooker and a

Joyce Carol Oates speaks for John Kerry.  As does Molly Bloom. But Shannon Elizabeth has a different take:  “I’ve come to love Bush.  Like, lots.  Which, I think that proves I’m a very open-minded person.  Who likes to experiment. “…Um, what was the question again?” update: “Did I mention that Danny Masterson says I have nipples like the Tin Woodsman’s hat?  I like camping.”

De Somnis Vestimenta Horroris      From the greatest horrors irony is seldom entirely absent, as if to remind us that there is in truth no such thing as motiveless or mindless malignity.  Thus, the crack in John Kerry’s mirror inspired him, subtly and indirectly, to begin to accomodate himself somewhat to the twenty-first century, but at the same time the hellish terrors of earlier centuries—Vietnam, Nicaragua, the Reagan weapons buildup in

An actual race-baiting Jeff Danziger cartoon *not really. (h/t Malkin.  More here, here, and here)

Knock knock “Whoever is making that noise, Conchita, I want you to have him removed from the grounds at once.  Then bring me the gin and my vibrating massage rod.  And some ice cubes.  And the lotion.  Vaya.  Prisa!”*

From Steyn online: Today, for the first time in all my years with the Telegraph Group, I had a column pulled. The editor expressed concerns about certain passages and we were unable to reach agreement, so on this Tuesday something else will be in my space. I’d written about Kenneth Bigley, seized with two American colleagues but unlike them not beheaded immediately. Instead, sensing that they could exploit potential differences

Martha Stewart:  “…actually, Vanessa, it’s quite possible to make a comfortable quilt out of nothing but hand-rumpled Baby Ruth wrappers and moistened sod.  That being said, if you dare look me in the eye again, I have associates on the outside who will track down the people you care about and gut them each with a fish knife, then use their still-quivering filets to make Sole Meuniére for a weekend

…to all the guest bloggers who in my absence filled this site with such…relevance.  Seldom has protein wisdom been so timely and topical, and for that I thank each and every one of you.  Of course, now that I’m back, we can put at end to all that “substance” nonsense, which frankly strikes me as being very time consuming.  Instead, it’s time to get back to what my readers so

When in doubt, always smell the milk first. 

Bush: Stetson cologne and a belt with a buckle.  Kerry:  imported soap made from heat-pasteurized baby ostrich fat and scented with crumbled lilac.  Wispy fop belt by Pierre Cardin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have locust and brimstone bits to comb out of my hair.