—You may as well stop right there, because the answer is no, I’m afraid. Sorry, but the little guy somehow got it into his head his head that, were he to really study up on Constitutional Law, when Ruth Bader Ginsberg steps aside he might just have a chance at a nomination—having sent the President’s 2004 re-election campaign $93 dollars and a homemade jambalaya loaded with cajun-spiced scarab beetles.
It’s a longshot, sure. But the upside is, if he gets the job, he’s convinced he can talk the rest of the justices into ruling on the next eminent domain case in such a way that, were we to play our cards right, me and couple of buddies could probably take over New Jersey and turn it into a really enormous miniature golf course / topless martini bar.
Well, there’s a Beer Festival in my area tomorrow. And if that armored bastard doesn’t show up and at least dance a jig, I’m going to be sorely disappointed. Studied is for herbs.
Um. “studied” = “studying”. Don’t mind my grammar/typing. Blame it on the brew!
Topless Martini Golf? Did someone say topless martini golf?
Clearly, the trick is to get himself appointed to lead the search committee. Rather than studying Constitutional law, I’d suggest he seek ways of ingratiating himself with the Prez with that goal in mind. Might mean a reel or two, perhaps a tango. Or even, as the TW suggests, daily waltzes.
Martinis?? Gin (Bombay Sapphire), extra dry, on the rocks, with olives. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.
topless martini bar..
What if it rains?
Isn’t that what those little drink umbrellas are for?
Rick
C’mon, the little guy’s gotta at least have a position in the chief of staff’s office to have a shot at the Ginsberg seat.
Martini Recipe
Pour one glass slipper full of gin into a Home Depot orange bucket, over ice.
Kick the vermouth in the nuts.
Stir with your putter.
Garnish with stripper panties.
Enjoy.
Good thing they’re topless, otherwise they’d be hard to drink.
Um, Jeff… you may want to check on him. I think I just saw him waddle by here at the Denver airport. I mean, I am on my third Fat Tire while I wait for my delayed connection, but even with the sunglasses and Hawaiian shirt he didn’t fool me…
It’s Friday?
[shakes watch, listens, realizes digital watches don’t tick, tries to slink away hiding his embarrassment]
Why wait on Ginsberg, I think Stevens is already dead.
Stop ruining good gin.
Jeez.
I once aced the Giant Windmill hole using one of those little umbrellas– a carom shot off the New Jersey Turnpike.
Glistening wet breasts. What’s to complain about?
In the bar, breasts are glistening
A beautiful sight,
We’re happy tonight.
Tippling in a topless wonderland.
Well, I’ve been visiting this web site for over 20 years, and I’ve never seen the armadillo dance. I’m starting to think the whole thing is a hoax.
I’m going over to IMAO, and see if they have any pictures of naked women.
Spam word: disappointed. Well, yeah. I suppose I am.
You’re being too proactive. You have plenty of time to study AFTER the nomination. Plus that way you have the benefit of tutors, some even with glistening wet breasts.
Over my cold, dead body, which would only be cold and dead after blasting a case of shells through my grandfather’s double barrel 12 gauge, lovingly cleaned, oiled, and generally kept in as-new condition by yours truly! Hey, we’re not all blue here in Jersey.
As a proud Jersey resident, allow me to say – I welcome my new topless waitress and golf providing overlord.