From the BBC: “French hostages plead for lives” Two French journalists held hostage in Iraq have urged their government to lift a ban on Muslim headscarves in schools to save their lives. The men also called on French people to protest against the law, set to come into force this week, in a new video shown on Arabic TV station al-Jazeera. The latest video emerged as a deadline set by
August 30, 2004
My first brief conversation with the Big Apple
Big Apple: “So. I hear you like to beat on defenseless little apples. With a shovel, no less.” me: “Well, no, not really –” Big Apple: “– Sure you do. Don’t lie to me. You like to take a shovel to McIntosh apples.” me: “That’s not entirely true –” Big Apple: “– What, you don’t think I hear things?” me: “That was one apple, okay? And he was especially disrespectful
August 30, 2004
protein wisdom’s Republican National Convention coverage, 5: The al-Franken Factor
(via Spot On) **update** me: “What a twerp that guy is.” Bo Derek: “You’re telling me. I eat guys like him for breakfast and still have room left over for a short stack and a half dozen sausage links.”
August 30, 2004
protein wisdom’s Republican National Convention coverage, 5: The al-Franken Factor
(via Spot On) **update** me: “What a twerp that guy is.” Bo Derek: “You’re telling me. I eat guys like him for breakfast and still have room left over for a short stack and a half dozen sausage links.”
August 30, 2004
protein wisdom’s Republican National Convention coverage, 4
Passed Tucker Carlson in the hallway a few minutes back, who was flipping through a stack of papers and didn’t acknowledge me except to throw a dirty look my way when he noticed the red bow tie I have on. “That’s right, Wonderboy,” I hollered after him. “You don’t own the red bow tie. And I look good. So live with it.”
August 30, 2004
protein wisdom’s Republican National Convention coverage, 4
Passed Tucker Carlson in the hallway a few minutes back, who was flipping through a stack of papers and didn’t acknowledge me except to throw a dirty look my way when he noticed the red bow tie I have on. “That’s right, Wonderboy,” I hollered after him. “You don’t own the red bow tie. And I look good. So live with it.”
August 30, 2004
Sixteenth in a series of real-time empirical observations (Republican National Convention edition)
As you read this, Michael Moore is marching past his third eatery in as many city blocks without once stopping for a meal. Instead, he unwraps another Slim Jim beef tube and devours it in three bites, all the while thinking if the goddmaned Republicans hadn’t brought their convention to New York, I’d be naked and thigh deep in a pool of chocolate pudding right now. God, how I hate
August 30, 2004
The ‘This Cute Girl Thinks I’m Smart Because I’m Wearing A Puppet Head and Protesting’ poem
for the anarchists This cute girl, she thinks I’m smart because I’m wearing a paper mache puppet head and protesting Republicans converging on the Big Apple. But the truth is, I have no idea why I’m protesting. Which I guess doesn’t really matter, so long as the cute girl who thinks I’m smart shows me her funbags later.
August 30, 2004
The ‘This Cute Girl Thinks I’m Smart Because I’m Wearing A Puppet Head and Protesting’ poem
for the anarchists This cute girl, she thinks I’m smart because I’m wearing a paper mache puppet head and protesting Republicans converging on the Big Apple. But the truth is, I have no idea why I’m protesting. Which I guess doesn’t really matter, so long as the cute girl who thinks I’m smart shows me her funbags later.
August 30, 2004
protein wisdom’s Republican National Convention coverage, 3
5:47 PM. Westbound on 35th and Broadway, a group of white guys with dreadlocks spin lopsided urine balloons at police. “What are you guys protesting?” I ask one of them, a skinny kid in his early twenties whom I slide up alongside. “Fuck off, narc,” he says, not looking at me. I flash him a peace sign. “No war for petroleum-based latex products filled with liquid human waste,” I say—then