—Hey, now that’s not fair! First off, I don’t make “excuses,” I simply report the facts. And second, there is nothing “standard” about an armadillo willingly taking time away from his passion for dance to represent his country at the Torino Winter Olympics—even going so far as to fly to Italy on his own dime, so proud is he of the red white and blue.
Though, to be honest with you, I have no idea what sport he’s actually competing in, save that it involves him curling himself into a tight ball, suctioning an old Plymouth Duster door handle to his shell, and then being swept up and and down a stretch of ice by big beefy Scotsmen in skirts.
But maybe that’s part of the draw, this thrill of gazing up those skirts. Who knows? All I can say is that when pressed (and a little high on Ketamine) the little fella has, in the past, expressed some rather strange ideas about the commingling of sport and aesthetics…
Nice Jeff,
Playing the Olympic card…..
I saw some of the women’s curling competition between the US and Russia. Chick Curlers are the HOT!
By the way, be sure to check out the update here. Unrelated, but pretty shocking if true, even by today’s standards of MSM story manipulation. Do keep in mind, though, that ABC may have been given a faulty or more nuanced translation than the one cited.
My criticism of the ABC Nightline story (tucked in a comment thread somewhere, and which for the life I me I can’t find) was that they didn’t provide dates or context. They used the tapes as filler in their own open-ended narrative that concluded with the assertion that the tapes were indeterminate of anything significant, when what they should have done is presented the tapes, with context (when was each soundbite uttered, what was the US / UN / Hans Blix, etc., doing at that time, and so forth) and allowed the viewers to try to piece together what was in Saddam’s mind and heart.
His mind?
His heart?
Ummm, I think I could guess. “Now, how can I out-Stalin Stalin and actually get a crack at the US, which the old Georgian never did. And I must, or my moustache will be dishonored.”
Word: not. “Or not. Man, I do make myself laugh.”
You’d curl up into a ball, too, if you had to look up a Scotman’s kilt.
You do know what a Scot wears under his kilt, don’t you?
Insect repellant.
As a world class skip I can tell you that the dillo would never be used for a draw to the button. Nope, his scrawny ass is for a take out only, I mean you can rocket those down the ice at mach 3.
TW: in addition it would serve the little non-dancing shit right if he suffered a concussion or something.
OK…. I’m a 4 hour drive from Torino Jeff. I’ll check up on the guy. Or prove you are wrong. We were heading to Cannes with a couple of friends today anyway.
Why did we have to wait for this information.
r
I sense a COVER-UP!
What’s strange about full-contact cheerleading?
Tell the little blighter to stick around for the summer games.
Hammer throw.
I’m not paying anymore attention to the on-going ‘dillo travisty, unless of course they add “the road kill dance triathalon” to the games rooster. That would be entirely different….
Barring that, I’m relegating the “he never dances when someone is actually looking” rodent to the same pile of flying space monkeys, beanie 8” cut propellers, and rotating nipple breaking news flashers that somehow just never seem to materialize…
BTW Goldstein – we obtained a DNA sample from that last round of actus’s “braindead blogments”(tm), and if it turns out the way we suspect it will, you’re going to have a lot more to answer for than just a delinquent ‘dillo, let me tell you….
Cover up? I’ll say.
Secret video coming of the ‘dillo tweezing out bird-shot from Ardolino’s gonads in a “party room” in a DC area “night club”. On the tape Bill is heard to say “Hunting accident? My ass!”…
4th, or shall I call you Ward Cleaver, you just like the look of a woman with a broom in her hand.