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July 2004
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July 2004

John Kerry queries his economic advisor

Kerry:  “Am I allowed to tax tax increases?  Because I’ve been running some numbers here, and I think I might be on to something…” update:  “Well what about fish sandwiches and french fries, then?  Can I at least double tax those?”

Republican National Convention

Nope, not invited.  …As if that’s going to stop me…

Playing God

I could strike you dead right now if I wanted to, but I won’t.  Because I’m a decent guy.  Now go on and live your life.  Go. Hurry up. Before I change my mind.

Scenes from my driveway, continued x 30

Deadbeat neighbor: “Where have you been the last few days?” Me: “Boston. At the convention.” Deadbeat neighbor: “What, like a comic book convention or something?” Me: “More or less, yeah.”

Does the monkey still loveses the spanky?

Let’s never mention that again. 

The John Kerry is a Hero poem

“I am the giver of life, champion to domesticated rodents thrown suddenly      from small boats. “Would Bush blow air into a black rat’s mouth? Or would Licorice have died right there in the water, dreaming of one last piss      on his woodchips…?”*

Separated at birth…?

Uncanny, isn’t it? **** h/t Dario see also: Jeff Jarvis and Steven Taylor (h/t Mark)

Separated at birth…?

Uncanny, isn’t it? **** h/t Dario see also: Jeff Jarvis and Steven Taylor (h/t Mark)

protein wisdom’s Democratic National Convention coverage, 15

Woke up under a pile of windbreakers and ponchos in the backseat of James Taylor’s tour bus at about 3 am EST, one of the Kerry daughters passed out nude in the aisle, Tipper Gore folded over JT’s lap like a fleshy pink topcoat.  The bus was cruising through Connecticut on its way down to the Carolinas, the driver told me, so I begged out, and he was cool enough

protein wisdom’s Democratic National Convention coverage, 15

Woke up under a pile of windbreakers and ponchos in the backseat of James Taylor’s tour bus at about 3 am EST, one of the Kerry daughters passed out nude in the aisle, Tipper Gore folded over JT’s lap like a fleshy pink topcoat.  The bus was cruising through Connecticut on its way down to the Carolinas, the driver told me, so I begged out, and he was cool enough