Stop, please. Stop.
Seriously. Stop.
****
In other news… Nothing is better when you’re at home sick taking care of little boy than receiving encouraging email from well wishers. Take, for instance, this one, from “Toulouse Latrec” (cheneysux666@yahoo.com), subject line, “Paging Mr Piddle Pants”:
Hey Jeffy,
I need your help, when you get a chance to break away from being a racist, sexist, homophobe, of course. I'm sure that's an exhausting, full-time job.
My great-grandfather has recently begun experiencing incontinence. Poor guy is 91 and has had some tough plumbing problems of late. What kind of adult diaper would you recommend? I understand from a brief reading of your Web site that you are a very scared young man and given to severe bouts of urine-loosening fear when exposed to ideas and people you are unfamiliar with, so I figure you must be going through a large box of Depends or whatever every week.
Any recommendations you can make will be appreciated. I'll be able to tell my great-grandpa that the diapers we recommend have been endorsed by a member in good standing of the 101st Fighting Keyboardists, which will make him feel better since he also is a veteran, albeit the Big Red One and not the Big Orange Cheetoh army.
Thanks for your attention to this matter.
Sincerely,
Toulouse Latrec*
*It's okay to like French people again now that Sarkozy is leading France.
Interestingly, I haven’t written many posts over the past five days, so I’m wondering just what posts of mine it is Toulouse has read — he’d have to go back several pages, for instance, to find one of my political posts, the first few pages showing posts almost exclusively from guest bloggers — but that’s just idle curiosity on my part. Hopefully, a follow-up email will reveal all.
To the dilemma at hand. Because Toulouse was kind enough to write in, I decided to reply, so that I can feel like I’ve put in a nice day’s work before taking time off to sip tea and curl up in the fetal position, my adult diaper taped firmly in place. And really, who among us can turn his back on the suffering of a great grandfather, particularly a vet!:
You can't go wrong with Depends, Toulouse, as you yourself seem to acknowledge.
But then, I'm given to being wooed by advertising put out by unscrupulous corporations more concerned with filthy lucre than the good of the common weal -- and that's the only brand I know. Not much of a free thinker am I, unfortunately. In fact, the only box I tend to think outside of is the one in my backyard with the crescent moon window, where my family goes to do its business. If you could smell it, you'd know why we don't get a lot of thinking done in there (ha! LOL!!1!!)!
While you, on the other hand...wow! If you paid me, I couldn't come up with the idea to send an email to someone I didn't know using a politically DEVASTATING email address (cheneysux666 -- you captured it ALL, brother, even the number of the BEAST!), and then sign it with the name of a sawed off French artist with hypertrophied genitals! I mean, that takes the kind of brilliance and planning that is well beyond my capabilities!
I lift my Tremblement de Terre to you, sir! Bring on the Green Faerie (ROTLMAO!!1!)!
-- Though I must say, if I did decide to try such a ballsy stunt, the anal conservative in me (no pun intended -- har har bathroom handsignals, Jeff Gannon's GAY PORN COCK OF LIES, Matt "Dirty" Sanchez, etc.) would probably force me to spell "Lautrec" in its more familiar form.
But then, that's just us "conservatives" bowing to the doctrinaire rules of convention and usage -- giving in to the whims of the Man because we simply don't have the balls to shake things up like, say, brave anonymous emailers.
Personally, I think it's great that you'd dig up both Strunk AND White and fuck 'em right in the ear with your linguistic edginess, given the chance.
-- That is, were you not busy, you know, inventing politically devastating email addresses, and using them to send emails under a fake name to people you don't know -- all while accusing them of being cowardly.
But again, traditional irony is so bourgeois anyway, am I right?
Hope this helps your great-grandfather -- though the fact that you already mentioned Depends leads me to believe that you were just looking for an excuse to chat with me.
I want you to know, that's okay! I understand that to some people, I'm quite exotic. In fact, a racist, sexist, homophobe of my ilk -- the kind married to an Asian women's studies major, with a bisexual sister -- is rather rare. Chances of spotting someone like me in the wild are fairly slim indeed. So I can't say that I blame you for reaching out. As I say: bravery!
Keep on painting those lesbian scenes by the way! It's so empowering! And I must tell you, for a full-time homophobe, I just can't get enough of the girl on girl action.
Love your work,
Jeffy
See? I can reach across the aisle when I have to.
The soothing balm of healing. It’s what I’m known for, after all.
*****
update: This latest email comes from Charles, who is quite persistent in his suggestions that I’m a pussy who needs constantly to display his masculinity.
As I said above when he wrote to me as “Toulouse,” irony — it’s just so bourgeois:
Not only are you a complete fucking pussy who would never serve your country in a million years, but you make hit and run snide little comments and then ban me from replying.
The things that a little man like you has to do to make himself feel good.
Truth is, we’ve heard the chickenhawk meme — and about how much of a pussy I am — from Charles, what? ten times now?
So it ain’t like I’m silencing him. But I’m watching a playoff game and taking care of a sick kid, and I don’t feel like policing my comments all day.
Beyond the irony of calling someone a bedwetting pussy from the safe distance of anonymity, there’s also Charles’ incredible lack of self-awareness: his entire body of commentary consists of nothing more than hypermasculinist bluster, all in the service of suggesting that it is me who has something to prove with respect to my manhood.
Why are these people so obsessed with manhood? Really, it puzzles me.
People like Charles (or heet, or TimmyB) are constantly criticizing “keyboard commandos” — who they mistakenly suggest are those citizens who, in a republic with civilian control of the military, support a war without quitting what they’re doing and running off to join the army (forget for the moment that some of those people are beyond the age limit, or that we have a volunteer professional class fighting force, or that Charles isn’t over in Afghanistan battling the Taliban, etc); but the real “keyboard commandos” are people like Charles, who spend an inordinate amount of time haunting “winger” websites calling people pussies and cowards from the safety of their Playstation chair.
Were Charles to meet me in person, I can assure you’d he’d hesitate before calling me a pussy. But from behind his keyboard — and with the backpatting of his echo chamber compatriots — he lashes out in vulgar language, bringing nothing of substance to any debate, then uses his dismissal as proof that he has scared off the cowardly manly men who refuse to face their pussyness. The cowardly pussies.
Fact is, banning repetitive wastes of bandwidth like Charles doesn’t make me feel good. It just rids my site of more of the same predictable garbage that he has already spewed over and over and over again.
You know, the stuff about how I’m a cowardly pussy. Who thinks he’s a real man for being all blustery-like. Unlike Charles. Who is a meta-real man for being blustery in pointing out how my blusteriness is pussyish. Or something.
****
More from Charles, who has become my latest internet stalker:
Ha, the fucking coward imagines I would act any differently in person. Not a chance. I served my country, and I loathe fucking pussies like you who beat the drums for war but don't have the balls to serve. I would tell you straight up.
I love the "lose my email remark." You just want to run away from the truth, don't you? You want your little sycophants to tell you how clever you are, and you can't stand someone who points out the obvious.
So come back with another snide remark, or run away, you whining fucking punk. Either way, we both know what a complete fucking coward you are.
Man, how I do love the smell of lefty testosterone in the afternoon.
Smells like…pudding.
Here’s the thing, Chuck. You don’t know me. And you can knock off the tough guy talk. I don’t scare easily, and I don’t shame at all.
Besides. I get the feeling you wouldn’t know a pussy if it sidled up and sat on your face. Unless, that is, it was disguised as a cock.
Mmmmm. Gilead.
Do you know the way to Santa Fe?
Kind of ironic that a leftist would cite the 666 number considering that most of them wouldn’t go near a church or open the book that contains the number itself unless it was to mock them.
So Toulouse is the same as Charles cause they both have the weird Cheetos fetish but they can’t spell it right.
I like Cheetos but not the puffy kind but I don’t like how they make your fingers all orangey and sticky so I only eat them sometimes and usually cause I am in a household that consumes Cheetos.
“Born Toulouse”…
ROFLMAO!!!1!!
You da BOMB, Jeff. Gotta love it…:)
If that’s “reaching across the aisle” then a GAU-38 is what is meant by “reach out and touch someone”.
There’s no time Tolouse!
You are a uniter AND a healer, Jeff! Where do you dig up such feckless foes? ANd yes, I simply said that BECAUSE OF THE ALLITERATION!!1!1!
I think he needs to be de-Tou loused.
And that bugs me.
Oh, and Jeff, posts like that are why I keep coming back.
Dear Toulouse,
If you were a committed leftist you would realize that you bare absolutely no responsibility for the health, welfare, and comfort of your aged family members. The fact that you feel like you should share some of the responsibility for your grandfather, rather than dump his ass on the state, is evidence of your right wing tendencies. So dump his ass at the county hospital and let the beaurocrats worry about whether he shits himself or not. And if they fuck it all up and he dies from neglect……well that’s one less carbon footprint, so good for you on that count also.
Admit it bitch, you’re one of us.
Excuse me there, Latrec, (yuk) but I think your head screw is Toulouse.
It wasn’t a burstable moment but there was a snort and a quick giggle.
Looks like my son caught what I had. This week is really starting to suck.
Poor kid.
You know, it would almost be worth it to set up a fake account with an edgy, transgressive name and send Jeff an anonymous insult, just so I could bust a gut reading his reply.
But I speak Ignoramus like a native, so he’d probably see right through it.
But I don’t speak Ignoramus like a native, she said, trying to repair her self-deconstructing utterance.
Uy.
Were Lautrec’s genitals actually ‘hypertrophied’ .. as in swingin some big pipe.. or did they merely appear hypertrophied given he was only 5 feet tall? I’ve never really considered the issue before but since the topic’s come up…
As for Depends Adult Undergarments… I guess their shrewd strategy of buying the naming rights to the year 2009 from O.N.A.N. paid off cause I cant think of another brand either…
I think is like Attends, Poise and Serenity.
There are few things better than a Strunk and White joke.
also I think it’s singular Depend
Jeff,
You bring up an interesting point that I had not considered: Do the universities still use or recommend Strunk & White at the freshman level? Of course, it probably varies from place to place, but, at least for the practical goal of maintaining the sanity of the teachers and graders, I should think they might want the masses of freshmen to write more clearly rather than less. Freshmen essays, whether they discuss Shakespeare, Maya Angelou, or the horoscope in today’s paper, would be murder to grade if there aren’t any guidelines (not to say “rules”) for style.
T&T
::snort::…I misread your comment as “…I speak Iguana like a native..” and for some odd reason that struck me as totally hilarious..
Probably just the Vicodin coming on but thanks for the laugh anyway.
Jeff,
Pedialite and liquid Children’s Motrin. Hang in their Goldstein boys!
And learn to type properly, Major John!
Jeff, about the bisexual sister…
You got a phone number?
Ibid, Anon and Opcit.
Eight-six-seven-five-three-on-naheeahn.
(Oh, c’mon, you were thinking it…)
I got some cheetos upstairs. These are the cheddar jalapeno kind. One bag has three servings. Chester helpfully lets you know that this means 21 cheetos per serving (“21 is the right amount of jalapeno hoppin’ FUN!”). They sure are crunchy.
I still don’t get it.
What’s the payoff for this cretinous email if Jeff hadn’t chosen to post it along with his great big bitchslap response? I mean, is this submoron high fiving himself in his mom’s basement? Has he posted it on his blog that no one reads? Is he some kind of womens studies professor at some fifth rate state college? So many questions. My guess is that he climaxed over the cleverness of his faux email address and got the sleepies.
The Revolution will not be e-mailed.
Did anyone point out that Toulouse (aka Toulouse Baby) doesn’t even know how to spell his own last name ?
That’s right, Karl. The Revolution will be stir fried with ginger and soy sauce.
AND THEN SERVED COLD!!!!!!!
Here ya go, tanstaafl:
“See? I can reach across the aisle when I have to.”
Is that like reaching under the partition?
“Is that like reaching under the partition?”
Depends on how wide your stance is.
Thank you Kelly :-)
Re: Cheetos.
Yes, the twisted, crunchy ones are much better than the fluffy, effeminate ones. And I always keep a damp washcloth with me when eating thereof thus to wipe off the Cheeto doots.
Also, the bright red ones? Scary. They remind me of ketchup-flavored potato chips that some South African friends had once. That reddish dust is just not natural, unlike the hunter orange on Real Cheetos.
Just sayin’.
The jalpapeno cheddar are hunter orange with green speckles to simulate real jalapeno flavor. It worked too cause I’m thirsty. The company is based in Texas, you know, so they’re pretty savvy about that sort of thing.
I’ve been asking that question for years with regards to any anonymous accusations/trash talking. It’s cowardly to the nth degree. If you have something to say to a particular individual that is personal, accusatory and/or insulting, use your name or say it to their face or it has no credibility.
True story: A pastor friend of mine, now retired, received an anonymous letter several years ago accusing him of having an affair. That Sunday he stood before the congregation during the worship service and read the letter, emphatcally denied the charge and spoke at length about anonymity, cowardice and lack of “Christlike” behavior.
Dick, a big man with a booming voice, closed this way; “If I ever found out who you are I’ll forget I’m a pastor and a Christian and beat the living snot out of you.”
Man, I wish I had been there to see that in person!
Jeff: Geez Louise, Francis is pitching like the ghost of Steve Carleton!
Don’t forget, before you “reach under the partition”, you have to tap your feet rythmically.
I think that’s known as “floor-play”.
Ba-da-dum. Thanks, I’m here all week….
Re: banning of Charles, you could write a pretty simple script that would post pretty much the same crap that he does. Which tells you just how much you’re missing by not letting him post here, as far as I’m concerned.
Still, I’d like to get me some of those war drums. I checked Ebay, but no dice.
But now that you’ve banned him, expect that Blue Texan guy to show up any minute with a six-pack of Teh Smack.
Glenn Greenwald doesn’t seem to like this site. And he also thinks we’re on the Road to Serfdom. You seem plenty masculine to me, Jeff.
All the good stuff happens while I’m in the car.
I don’t mean the puked &c, but the emailing.
And the Wal-Mart adult diapers work well enough to sit through the whole of Derby Day.
Or so I’ve… ahem …heard.
Toulouse Baby, aka “Chas”
http://redwing.hutman.net/~mreed/warriorshtm/enfantprovocateur.htm
Great beat down. Wish I had your facility with words, hope you get to feeling better.
Speaking of adult diapers, what kind do the astronauts use? I understand they’re the brand to use when needing to drive nonstop for 12 hours to kill your lover’s new paramour. That’s the performance I’d want if I, uh, oh, nevermind.
Ah, I knew I’d seen Charles around here before.
Added bonus in link: John Cole makes an appearance as a rational human being, while bbbustard displays his innumeracy.
Hey, you bedwetting namby-pambies can get as defensive as you want, but you’re all cowards in Depends for being so afraid of the Imaginary Islamofascists. What have they ever done to make anybody so nervous? Real Americans know that the only thing to fear is fear itself…well, and global warming, which will surely kill us all unless we stop KILLING OUR PLANET and follow Al Gore’s teachings……and the Terri Schiavo-worshiping Christianists who want to turn America into a New Dominion where homosexuality and abortion will be punishable by stoning…and the Zionists in the Office of Special Plans who own the government and probably blew up the WTC. Besides those things, there’s nothing to wet the bed over, you sissy girl-pussies.
Unless I miss my guess,Jeff, I think Charles wants to spoon with you. He’s sweet on you.
You’re supposed to say “Depend undergarments,” not “Depends,” even though everyone knows what you mean. It degrades the brand equity, you see. Cause “depends” is like the answer to the question “Do they work?” As you can imagine, that’s not what they are going for. They want you to know that this undergarment is one you can depend on.
See, if people want us to get out of Iraq, they can put their money where their mouth is and join the insurgency. Over there, I mean. Not over here.
Or, if they think that we should avoid war with Iran by sitting down and talking to them, they should save their pennies, fly to Teheran, knock on Ahmadinejad’s door, and invite him over for tea.
Or if that doesn’t work, stage a protest with papier mache heads, take off your shirt and paint the words “breasts not bombs” on your torso, and invite Inflated Scrotum Guy along for laughs.
No?
CHICKENDOVE!
Rockies win, 4-2. For those interested.
What a jackass.
N’OBrain said: Oh, and Jeff, posts like that are why I keep coming back.
Posts like that make me hit the tip jar.
It’s comforting to know that when you need to bust up congestion in your chest, the Left is there to help.
Because of the caring. And the healing.
Charles, I mean. Mouthy guys like that are usually tiny little fuckers with a Napoleon complex.
Jeff, send him to my place. I’ll have my girlfriend beat him up.
Hey Jeff,
I’d take the whole thing as a compliment. After all, astronauts wear adult diapers, and I’d feel honored to shit myself in the same brand of undergarment as John Glenn. (cue “Battle Hymn of the Republic”)
There. That oughta set our friend Charles the Incontinent spluttering like a 50 year old Evinrude…
I notice a ROTLMAO in your main post? Is that a freudian ‘rolling on Toulouse Laughing my ass off’?
October baseball kicks ass, doesn’t it?
They’re just warming up! Chicken…uh..CHICKEN..uh…CHICKENNOTPHILLIESFAN!
CHICKENFUCKER!
Good Allah, they are really out in force today.
so have any these trolls joined the military? CHICKENRECRUITERS!!!! I realize a lot of them have issues with gainful employment, but they seem so eager.
I see the mental ward is letting the inmates play with the internets again.
The latest from charles, who — like so many before him — just can’t seem to quit me:
So you can see how my day has been going.
My reply:
Okay. Enough of the tolerant lefties, and their chickenhawk / cock-obsessed / anonymous accusations of cowardice tropes for one afternoon.
I’m gonna go put my kid down for a nap. Then I’m gonna lift some weights, and maybe go find me a bum to pleasure in the squeakhole.
All he is saying
Is give peace a chance.
What I find amusing is he throws in the “I’ve served…” line. I would bet every last dollar I have or ever will have that’s a big pile of steaming dog doodoo. The one thing lefties seem to be good at manufacturing (unlike, say, consumer goods or a nice latte) is phoney soldiers. And yeah, I’d tell him that to his face.
Oh, btw, happyfeet: Chopsticks are the answer. It’s dorky, but if you eat your cheetos with chopsticks you never have any problem with fatty orange sludge on your fingers. Your arteries are another story…
Let’s get back to the important bit: you have a bisexual sister that you never invited to any of the parties? Shame!
Umm. Was that inappropriate?
Whatever. Your left-leaning stalker really knows how to start a conversation. You humored him much longer than I would have–sometimes I’m pretty sure that “ignore” is the best option. Not nearly as entertaining, though.
That’s kind of brilliant, really.
Oh – and of the 31 grams of fat in my little bag, not a one of them was a transfat. That’s good, right? Chester seems really pleased about that.
Man, the email exchange is getting hilarious now. I wish I could repost it all here, but I have things to do.
Some highlights: I have speculated that our pal Charles is, like, a giant pussy. The kind of pussy that has Rotterdam whores with labia like shower curtains saying, “Jesus. And I though MY pussy was big.”
In fact, I think he’s like the Great Wall of China of pussies. So big, you can see it from space. So big he could house a family of Haitian boat people in his cooter, with his clit mimicking an overhead lightbulb.
Why don’t these people just stop? Why must they email me? What is it about me that drives these fuckers so damn CRAZY?
I’m now “Jeff ‘The Transparent and Cock-Obsessed Fucking Pussy’ Goldstein”
Which is cool. But in truth, I’m more like “Jeff ‘The Transparent and Cock-Obsessed Fucking Pussy’ Goldstein” who’s lost his keys.
Maybe Charles would do me the solid of checking inside his enormous vagina. And if he’s too scared to do it alone — being in the SHIT never gets easier, man! — perhaps he can get some of the guys he served with to recon with him.
Because I like, really need those keys.
That transparent frog was bad enough…
And by the way? He’s absolutely incorrect about the use of the subjunctive in that particular formulation. So there’s that, too.
If that ain’t love, I don’t know what is.
Cubs vs Diamondbacks tonight? I’m gonna short the Cubs by three runs.
Charles’ Enormous & Bottomless Vagina…maybe THAT’S where the Knicks left their dignity and credibility as an organization.
and Charles, Isaiah Thomas advises you to “Shut yo mouth, bitch.”
unless you are a WHITE woman, of course, then he just wants your phone number.
You’ve heard about that mysterious image of a giant feminine pudendum on Mars, obtained by the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter?
Charles.
I stupidly missed a chance to make fun of our friend by explaining why he’s incorrect about the subjunctive there. The determining factor is whether the thing being discussed is or can be true. I leave it to you to decide whether any pussies sidling up to Charles might be “disguised” as cocks.
What’s the matter? Jealousy over Greenwald put you guys over the edge? Or did you just decide that it was time to bring out the homophobic bigotry in all its glory? I mean, why else engage in this kind of weenie-talk?
“Besides. I get the feeling you wouldn’t know a pussy if it sidled up and sat on your face. Unless, that is, it was disguised as a cock.”
Prof Caric,
I, for one am NOT a homophobe!
You don’t scare me at all.
Seriously, what kind of poop-dick fruitcake spells “Rick” without the K?
That’s like naming your son “Erin”
Nipple.
…and working as a small college professor in KENTUCKY? Don’t pat yourself on the back too much. That’s like being the prettiest girl…in Cleveland.
40 year-old minor leaguers think you’re a failure “Ric”
I know, Ric. It’s just not fair. Suck one cock, and you’re a cocksucker for life, yannow? Bastards.
I live in Studio City.
Jeff – I have to admit… I was just about to say how very clever you were… but ass-monkey stole my thunder.
Teh Rick – genius!
Quick, somebody call Harry Reid!
hey crapweasel!
One-trick pony.
Did you mean “Rick” or “Ric”?
People get us confused all the time, especially when I wear a dress and lipstick.
…or have a dick in my mouth
(sorry, I couldn’t resist)
If you’re talking to me, that was addressed to the good professor. As an aside, Ric Locke might take issue with you about your spelling comment, lol.
Who wouldn’t be jealous? I mean, the man is a bestselling author whose meteoric rise to blogging prominence happened over a matter of only months, whose posts have inspired major articles in national newspapers and have been read on the Senate floor.
And he apparently has a devoted army of Brazilian cabana boys, too.
GOOD DAY TO YOU, SIR!
I don’t know who Ric Locke is, but the “K” on the end of my name tells me I could kick his ass.
It also tells me to eat Cheetos and watch football.
..and I was responding to Enoch
happyfeet –
So Toulouse is the same as Charles cause they both have the weird Cheetos fetish but they can’t spell it right.
“I like Cheetos but not the puffy kind but I don’t like how they make your fingers all orangey and sticky so I only eat them sometimes and usually cause I am in a household that consumes Cheetos.”
Only pussies in Depends don’t like puffed Cheetos.
Or did I get that backwards?
The Rick: that would be me. I have no particular reason to dispense with the “k” other than that it makes writing the short form of my name easier — once clockwise, twice widdershins. It isn’t even my whole name, but (by law of averages) I suspect I’ve been using it since your mother’s ass was in Pampers. Before you’re entitled to whip my ass you’re required to use at least one word that sends two out of five posters to dictionary.com, just to keep the honors even.
The only thing I’ve seen recently that even tempts me not to use the name I’ve become known by is the existence of Prof. Caricature. He’s a hard act to follow, but if you’ve ever driven in Mexico City traffic you’ll know what to do about hard things to follow.
Regards,
Ric
That’s categorically untrue. Me and dicentra (@ 37) are both on record not liking puffed cheetos. Also, I don’t think you saw #51. Branding matters, you guys. It’s how we know who we are. As individuals, and as a people. [cue soaring musical score]
Caric – Sometimes it is better to remain silent. Go back to posting about marching bands.
“Looks like my son caught what I had. This week is really starting to suck.
Poor kid.”
It does suck. I have a young son, too.
But in La(u)trec’s world you could have dropped him off (for FREE) at the hospital and gone home to enjoy watching Sean Penn expound his worldview on TV.
Besides your son, only the overworked and underpaid doctors would be suffering – under threat of not only catching the flu, but also under threat of gatghong(I meant “catching”, but I had to leave that in because I can’t quite believe that I am capable of mangling a word THAT badly! I think I need to get rid of these f’ing curlieque lightbulbs that wouldn’t know light from their assholes) another felony.
gay bi-ped – The puffy ones are teh suXxor. The crunchy ones, sans jalapenos, should be their own category of food.
You caught the thing about the chopsticks right? That’s panache, that is.
Jeff wrote:
Usually, the answer has to do with the fact that Jeff is not a doctrinaire conservative, can trounce lefty academics, etc. — i.e., he is a heretic to Leftist dogma.
In this case, however, Occam’s razor suggests the answer is “sexual insecurities and projection.”
“the kind married to an Asian women’s studies major, with a bisexual sister”
Can we trade lives?
but then you miss the rough kitty tongue on your fingers.
That’s cute, but it’s more of an at work thing. I way bad wanna be the guy who eats cheetos with chopsticks. That kind of idiosyncrasy can go a long way out here.
maggie – rough kitty?
happyfeet – One has not mastered chopsticks until you can eat Vietnamese Pho with chopstix. But I agree, panache on the whole Cheetos with chopstix thing. Maybe my better half could carry that off. I would feel rather odd doing so.
Karl – Insecurity was the only thing that I could come up with. Or, that they have not yet become a man, as that is difficult when stuck in their parents basement.
Pho just got out here in LA in a big way. It was an Austin like 10 years ago. To me it tastes kind of peasanty, but I use a spoon.
*in Austin*
happyfeet – There are some incredible Pho shops in Chinatown.
FWIW – You are my better half’s favorite commenter. By far.
The Rick…Hey, my wife is the prettiest girl in Cleveland, and she is indeed a very beautiful woman! But, you’re dead on in regards to perfesser ummm…It’s funny that he’s still trolling for traffic for his little site. JD, quit enabling the dumbass! LOL!
Sorry, OI. I have poor impulse control.
OI – Is obstreperous anything like strepitous? I am too lazy to look anything up right now.
I am almost giddy with excitement that I get to watch the Cubs puke on themselves in the playoffs.
The pho hasn’t hit the valley much, well, probably in Van Nuys, but not Studio City/Sherman Oaks/North Hollywood/Toluca Lake. Someone tell me if they know someplace I don’t. But I will try it some more when it does. The pho I ate in Austin was near my place on Oltorf. It was new and exotic and we went there a lot. Also tell your wife she made my day.
It means defiant. And to be completely honest, I only took the name after reading an interview with a scholar on Islam and he used the term, “Obstreperous Infidel” and it just rolled off the tongue. Of course, I had to look it up and it just felt right.
Yeah, I can’t stand the Cubs, either. Too much coverage for the “lovable Cubs” who haven’t won shit in 90 years. I lived in Chicago for a while and couldn’t stand the fans there. I mean, they were mostly nice people, and I love Chicago, but the Cubs fans were just too much.
My game is tomorrow. The Tribe’s throwing Sabathia at the Yanks. If we can get anything from Sizemore and Hafner, we’ll be ok. Our pitching is that good. The bats (especially those two) just need to have a great series.
In the early 90’s I worked on advertising for Attends adult diapers. The name is way too close to Depends. I really don’t know if they still are sold. But I would heartily recommend their quality, as P&G make very good paper products. They’ve got some serious paper scientists over there. I mean, check out Charmin. Yeah. Now there’s a good ass-wipe. Kinda like Toulouse.
OI – Not 90 – 99. Get it right.
The whole, wait ’til next year thing got a bit tiring around the 10th year, no? I would trade a Blue Texan and a Chuckles Giacommetti for a house full of Cubs fans any day. The Cubs fans just sit around, drink beer, and lose gracefully. The trolls would steal your booze, paint graffiti on the walls, soil themselves, giggle a lot, and scream out Pussy and Chickenhawkmotherfucker all night long.
This entire thread smacks of the kind of heightism I have fought my entire life.
You have to go down to OC (Westminster, Garden Grove, Midway City, etc.) to get good Pho. Also, once the weather gets cold it is always a pleasure to eat Bún bò Huế in the morning.
Feeling low, Bo?
Chinatown, right downtown. The dirtier the Pho shop the better. If there are live crabs, and skinned chickens in the front window, and a jewelry counter by the cash register, you have found the place.
Jeff,
I looked back at some of Charles’ entries on previous posts. Much of his rhetoric is couched in “would” and “wouldn’t”. To be fair, much of the argument over various issues on your site has been couched in those terms. Can anything actually be established about “is” and “isn’t” in terms of claims of “would” and “wouldn’t”? How does one verify or falsify these latter subjunctives?
Yeah, I know, it isn’t funny or creative or anything, but I really was wondering, since we share a taste for hermeneutics and all.
T&T
Fluffy Cheetos vs Crunchy Cheetos…..no brainer….it’s Jax! You can only get them back east in PA. They are the best.
As for Toulouse, he served alright…he served pie in the chow line. He probably got a bad burn from taking his muffins from the oven.
I can’t believe the Phillies lost to the Rockies. I’m still pissed about the Padres.
– Now see feets. There you go. You learn something new every day. I had no idea hermeneutics had a flavor like cheesy sticky stuff. As for chopsticks, I can bench press a piano between a pair of ivory chopsticks. Its all in the technique.
been lurking, but gotta add my 2 cents to the pho conversation…. my dh is Chinese, so I thought I had mastered the chopsticks not long into our marriage…until he got on this pho kick. Damn, I cannot eat pho with chopsticks. I suck.
And we’re in San Antonio, and it’s the truth – the best pho is at the nastiest looking shops. Any of you seen those multi-colored “dessert drinks” made from tapioca and neon-colored powder? *SHUDDER*
oh yeah, and this Charles-whatever-his-name-is — my 4 year old puts on a better huff when I tell her she can’t have a Magic My Little Pony Palace for $50.
Magic My Little Pony Palace?
Sounds like a name for John Edwards’ estate.
Yes, yes we do. If only we can get past the superstition crap.
PC – Houston has some of the best Pho shops in the US. Chicago too. A really good place will also have these sandwiches called (phoenetically – no way I could spell it right) Bun Me Bellaya, which is a French influenced food, consisting of a baguette with a Vietnamese bologna-type meat and a Vietnamese pate, coupled with pickled veggies and Uck, or Srirachi.
And, Pho is best when you get it with the tendons, tripe, and all of the rest of the stuff. It tastes better when you do not know what it all is. A healthy dose of Nuc Maam and Uck, after it has been served, rounds it out nicely.
I may have to boil up some oxtails this weekend.
You heard about that one girl in Austin who got kicked out of school for wearing her Juicy Couture shirt to the sixth grade – Did you hear about that kid who got kicked out of school for wearing a John Edwards T-shirt?
Heard about the kid with the Edwards shirt. I wish he’d hitch his wagon to a better candidate, but it was still wrong for the school district to do that (yet another zero tolerance policy gone awry).
How sweet. Blue Texas Instaputz banned me. I did not even manage to call him anything stronger than a putz. I even held back twatwaffle and douchenozzle. Can’t have people disagreeing with him. I ran across timmah nuzzling up to Blueballz over there. Swell company timmy keeps. Caric, now Chuckles Giacommetti and Blue Texas.
“Ha, the fucking coward imagines I would act any differently in person. Not a chance. I served my country, and I loathe fucking pussies like you who beat the drums for war but don’t have the balls to serve. I would tell you straight up.”
Can we maybe pass a law that mekes it legal for me to defend the troops and my country by stomping the shit out of pinheads like this? Because I think it would do wonders for moral and encourage honest dialogue if folks were held responsible for shit they said out loud and other folks were cut a little slack on their own personal preferred methods of self expression.
Just sayin’.
AAAAAHHHHHH did you just say tripe? ha ha. Can’t do it. nev-AH. me and one of my friends (who is married to an Indian) blog together on this topic. Most of my hangups with his culture have to do with food. Tripe is teh disgusting. I know so many cultures eat it but I just can’t adapt to that one.
and LMAO @ John Edwards in his Magic Pony Palace. I love this place. :)
See, I told you. It is best to simply not know, and experience it.
So can I call beating up hippies performance art or what, JD?
Am I experienced?”
(I am about to have that made into a T-shirt, by the way.)
One man’s performance art is another man’s hate crime ;-)
or public service.
Now, I would never advocate violence, but since Chuckles would clearly be the aggressor, I see no problem with delivering a defense of oneself, strenuously.
Back when I lived in the Bay Area, there was a place in Oakland called “Pho King.” It may still be there.
(It’s funny if you know how the stuff is actually pronounced. Think about it for a minute.)
Designated hitter?
“I served my country.”
Congressman Murtha, you old kidder, you.
Emphasis on “old.”
Best pho places?
The ones where you’re the only round eye in the joint, there’s a ton of totally unidentifiable stuff in the steam table and wrapped in plastic/tinfoil, and you order by pointing or saying NUMBER 7…
You know the beef stock has been steeping a month is said joint…