It has come to my attention that Jeff hasn’t posted in awhile. I was cognizant of this fact because the gift of noticing runs in my family, and also because commenters–or should I say, “complainters”–have been pointing out to me that I’m not Jeff and that, not to put too fine a point on it, I suck.
De gustibus &ct is my only defence. If you don’t like it, do as I do and throw in some bacon and/or tabasco. Or even better, rustle up something that you yourself find savory. In other words, I’d love to know what you think Jeff’s up to. Is he, perhaps, writing a novel, or a tome on literary hallucidation? If a novel, what’s it about? Is he, maybe, pitching a script to a producer?
 I don’t know. All I know is that I’ll have worked 65 hours this week and I don’t have time to do a proper post, and I miss Jeff as much as you do.
Maybe him n happy are hangin’ together?
Jeff is investigating allegations that Bush, in cahoots with Halliburton, Microsoft and Rupert Murdoch, engineered the asteroid impact that killed off the dinosaurs — all just to provide Bush’s buddies in the OOOOOIIIIIIIILLLLLLL industry with a product to sell illicitly in schoolyards to hook innocent little kids on consumerism. The fly in the ointment is that Bush’s family friends in the Nazi Party needed those dinosaurs for their planned conquest of Atlantis, so obviously they must have stolen a Klingon spaceship so they could go back to before the asteroid impact, collect a sustainable population of dinosaurs, and establish that population in a newly depopulated Middle East.
Long story short, Jeff is looking for a Klingon ship stashed at Bush’s ranch in Crawford.
Fucking asteroids.
Wow, McGehee. It all makes sense!
But . . . what about the ‘dillo?
I bet he’s writing a script for a movie that’s like Titanic + Poseidon Adventure + Love Boat, only on an Interstellar Cruise Ship.
Well done, McGehee. And I thought I could rant.
Pfui. The armadillo is the guide.
As a member of the race which guided the asteroid to its impact (and added just a little to its effects, counting on nobody noticing in all the confusion) thereby winning their war against the group we now call “velociraptor”, the armadillo is the only one who can guide Jeff in his search — and, since Klingon space technology was originally discovered by archaeologists in the degenerate remains of the armadillo’s home planet, he can also provide technical advice re: spaceship management.
One may speculate on his motives, of course. As the last surviving member of his race who knows anything about that stuff, it might be supposed that he might wish to re-establish the dominance of the Old Ones. As well, the tragic error that resulted in a lifeboat full of armadillos being stranded (thereby establishing the armadillo population on Earth) and left our (friend?) in stasis to await the rise of a race that could provide him with the technological basis for going home, casts some doubt on his competence. We can only hope that Jeff keeps his eyes open as they creep through the mesquite scrub and live-oak thickets around Crawford, and stays aware that armadillos are not our friends, only fellow travelers at best.
Regards,
Ric
We know Goldstein and the Armadillo are both missing, right? So could he and the Armadillo have run off together? Seems doubtful to me, even junkie Armadillos have some standards. My guess is it is related to that epidemic of trippin’ frogs there are having out there, I think Goldstein got fed up and traded the ‘dillo for a couple of them frogs, and has gone very far away for a little while. My only fear is who is the frogs will eat all the sea monkeys before Goldstein gets back from the Magic Kingdom.
Fellow travelers with fucking leprosy.
Give me the creeps I tell ya.
“All I know is that I’ll have worked 65 hours this week and I don’t have time to do a proper post . . .”
You know what I have noticed from lurking at Lefty blogs?
No one ever doesn’t post because they’ve worked 65 hour weeks.
[…] Like Dan, I’ve been punching the clock a bit much lately; but even in my overworked stupor I found time to read Karl’s post on the NIE. […]
Jeff’s off with a certain dolphin in a pea coat on a tequila and red pill bender,
destroyingcataloguing some very compromising video of certaininterrogationsinterviews. As always, should his whereabouts become public, the Director will disavow any knowledge of their actions.In other words, don’t worry, guys. He’ll be back when the heat dies down.
Prsonally I prefer Dan over Jeff. Hear that Jeff? If Dan is David Gray and if you’re Dave Matthews then I’m championing the Holiday Inn lounge act over the HBO Special musical celebritah.
The bulldog who never stops chewing furniture.
The lesbian who never stops chewing carpet.
The blogger who never stops chewing extension cords.
Da molar! Da fanged incisor! Da lower jaw of Godzilla! Dan Collins, people, give it up by putting your hands together.. For The Man!
And to be honest, Dan’s posts leave me just as sexually unsatisfied as Jeff’s do, so I would have to say that Dan does not, in fact, suck. At least not very well.
Dagnabbit, Dan, your De gustibus &ct is already atop Google’s search list for same (not that I didn’t know what it meant or anything; I was just checking…for the Connecticut version, of course!)
And, I’ve found bacon doesn’t do anything for taste, except when added to white beans. Tabasco improves anything.
Jeff is probably writing a surefire New York Times bestseller that will denounce and debunk every leftist concept and belief system that he hasn’t already caused to be chucked, from his long history of posts here.
And I’ll be one of the first in line to buy the thing…with or without an autograph. With additional copies as gifts, of course.
Ric, have you ever heard armadillo poetry?
Sorry, stupid question, of course you haven’t. If you had, you would have long since self-lobotomized, and you’d be posting comments here as “andy” or “semanticleo.”
“…sources close to Ric Caric suggest that Jeff has been lobotomized (NTTAWWT) by and is currently writing long posts about the sanctity of the vagina on Pandagon under the pseudonym “TruthToPowerDude”
Jeff is on location in Guam filming a new release of Serpico, or so sez the Interstellar Space Unicorn Alliance of Kolob.
http://thepovertyjetset.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/04/serpico_1600.jpg
huh, and here I thought he might be out looking for Natalie Holloway again. probably found out about some gentleman’s club he didn’t visit the last time around and he and the ‘dillo are checking it out all week. just to be safe.
Why, yes, McGehee, it’s among my most treasured memories: sitting by the creek as the long, warm East Texas summer evening drew to a close, listening as the armadillos declamed their laments. They do it by sibling groups, you know, all four with their noses together, alternating line by line. Really quite heartwarming. Of course you’re quite correct about the psychological effects, but by adding certain (ahem!) substances to the campfire one can insulate one’s mental processes almost completely. My grandmother, wise and knowledgeable, passed the necessary information on to me.
It’s really quite sad, you know. There simply weren’t enough individuals in the crashed survival pods to allow establishment of a colony with enough genetic variation, so the armadillos we know today are sadly degenerate descendants of the magnificent originals. Jeff’s (friend?), isolated in his lone pod, must have been tremendously disappointed when he emerged and discovered how his relatives had fallen over the long eons. Hence the substance abuse, futile attempts to submerge his consciousness of ultimate failure in booze and miscellaneous psychoactives. You’d probably do the same, if you woke from a Rip van Winkle sleep to discover that all other humans had decayed to the level of mentation of, say, andy.
I’m just saying that, despite the pity he deserves, it isn’t really wise to trust the fellow. At the moment our courses and aspirations run more or less parallel, but that might not always be the case.
Regards,
Ric
All we’re asking for, Dan, is a couple of stinkin’ eschatologisomethinsomethin’s thrown in your posts.
And maybe something funny once in a while.
Is that too much to ask?
We appreciate your coming off the bench, A.J. Feeley like, and throwing interceptions to both start and end the games, which happened to be losses … but we look forward to the starting QB coming back – repaired knee, injured thumb, sprained ankle and all – and doing something … anything.
Nice obscure Wiggles reference, Dan.
Two words: tip jar. Or, if you should wish it, but a single name would suffice: Paypal.
Incentivise him, and he will come.
Oh, and quit your bitchin’. ‘Dillo don’t dig derogatory dereliction.
…as the armadillos declamed their laments…
And probably wondering how the hell their laments got in those clams to begin with. Or I would be anyway, my laments are usually found in corked bottles.
Harsh but fair, B Moe. My only excuse is that it can be hard to corral those typographs.
Regards,
Ric
Jeff’s fine.
A buddy of mine saw him at a Denny’s, eating a Moon Over My Hammy and a large orange juice.
Don’t worry, it was kosher channukah ham.
I’ve found that a product called Cajun Sunshine makes almost everything taste better. Not quite as hot as Tobasco but with a great flavor, I recommend it highly. It has limitations, though. I’ve tried splashing some on the screen at LGF but it doesn’t make the comments any more mature or thoughtful.
Ask yourselves why the dinosaurs hate you.
I think the beets took him out. Fucking paranoid roots.
*Snif*
I wasn’t going to say anything, but since Dan brought Jeff’s absence up, the quality of the cock jokes has really suffered around here as of late.
GRAY PRAWN CORK OF LIMES!!!
See what I mean?
CORKING SOCKMUCKERS!!
oh, crap…
Bet the dinosaurs felt a little like LSU after the Villanova game.
Fucking asteroids
Oh, I know why they hate me.
Fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke.
Bob?
Jeff’s gone? Damn, I picked one helluva week to stop sniffing glue.
How long before we can have him declared legally dead and pry open the liquor cabinet?
I miss Jeff.
I *do know* “I” can’t go looking for him, because I’m married, and his wife may take it the wrong way.
Stalking is such an ugly word. I’m only an admirer.
I think I’ll go hang out with my new Facebook friends. At least over there I find things out about myself, like that I resemble both Plato and Ginger Spice.
You could bake cookies, Dan.
I miss Jeff, too.
I only read this blog to see what Goldstein has to say. All the rest is noise. No offense Dan, you have good stuff – just too much information out there. I am responding to your post so I guess I do read your stuff too but Protein Wisdom is a Goldstein brand.
Harsh, Roman. Dan’s done yeoman’s work here, without asking for a thing, trying to fill some impossible shoes. If nothing else, Dan deserves better than that.
Just my opinion. I don’t really read too much of Dan’s stuff. In my mind Protein Wisdom = Goldstein. Maybe that’s not right. And by noise I meant everything else out there – not just on PW.
You don’t suppose..
So basically, the ‘dillo fills the same role for Jeff as Oscar Zeta Acosta, the 300-lb Samoan attorney, did for Hunter S. Thompson, but in a lot smaller space.
Is modern miniaturization great or what?
There is no Jeff; there is only Zool.