Caturday!

It's raining!

Ordinarily, we don't care for this pissy little thing that passes for rain in these dry damned parts. We like REAL rain. Like thunderstorms, with pelting water from the sky that hits your head hard enough to hurt, and lightning flashing in sheets and bolts, sizzling near one's feet as one runs screaming through the wet dark streets on a warm tropical night to the sound of rolling thunder. THAT'S rain.

Not this endless minge of gray fog and gray damp drizzly skies and gray-brown hills all sere from the long, dry summer, and gray wet roads and gray wet buildings looming grayly out of the gray swathe of city streets and byways.

But it's been dry. How dry? Dry enough that people are vaguely starting to resemble some sort of lizardoid alien. Cracked lips and wrinkly dry shiny skins. Talking about reducing showers and graywater systems and single-rinse laundry cycles kinda dry. And the trees were dying from the dry, leaves drooping and dull, twigs wrinkled at their tender ends instead of plump babyish fists of leaves. It was so fucking dry I thought I'd lost my WISTERIA, for Christ's sake, and that thing has survived nearly 30 years of my lazy-assed failure to feed, water, or otherwise care for in any way; yearly hot Santa Ana winds; a fire that took down 2,000 houses in the vicinity; earthquakes; temporary use as a gravesite for murdered squirrels (looking at YOU, Ramon Rivera of the Rainbow Bridge) and god only knows what-all else kinda disasters and shenanigans.

So this rain's a welcome addition, right now. A surprise, but welcome nonetheless.

We're supposed to get all kinds stuff fixed around the old homestead, stuff I haven't been able to take care of for a decade because I was so badly disabled. Yes, yes, we're using the D-word now, admitting to a whole fuckin' lotta suffering and shit. The house is almost literally falling down around our ears. The fabled thousand-step stairs need replacing with some solid construction-type construction. The retaining walls are collapsing. The deck supports need shoring up, and replacement in parts. Bleh. Lotsa work.

And you can't work in this rain.

Oh, fuck it, it's Caturday. Have a wonderful one, y'awl.

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Happy Independence Day!

Hey, everybody! The asshats around me are starting to fire off their rockets in the middle of the fire season. Isn't that CUTE? Will we be forced to flee our homes at some ungodly hour, in our pajamas, cats tucked under each arm?

Tune in tomorrow, same time same place, assuming we fucking survive.

Don't you hate that shit? Boom, boom, boom. I guess the people enjoying this stuff have never lived around, you know, actual guns and bombs going off and people getting all shredded and stuff. Because lemme tellya, ever after, your shoulder blades twitch when you hear that noise. I'm expecting shrapnel fragments.

No, I'm not. The neighbours are idiots, but more in a non-malign, stupid, poleaxed, well-meaning, friendly, idiotic sort of way than actual redneck goobers who run around trying to kill people and other living things. They'll burn all our houses down around our ears, then fling themselves on our shoulders and sob about the loss. Dumbfucks.

So Mitt Romney's big fundraiser in London was held by disgraced and recently-resigned Robert Diamond, former head of Barclay's Bank? Do the teabaggers not see any irony whatsoever in the would-be president of the former colonies going to the Mother Country to raise funds from the SAME FUCKING PEOPLE the first Americans fought against to establish this nation? Where are the cries of corruption and foreign interference when Mitt Romney courts the British banking establishment, on fucking INDEPENDENCE DAY? Where are the cries when the biggest contributor to the Republican party is a guy who makes money off whorehouses in China?

Meanwhile, over at the ongoing Republican War On Women Headquarters, we're reliably informed that yon lout in that pitcher up there, one NY State Senator Marty Golden, is finally ready for the onslaught of the 15th century. Someone please tell him it's actually the 21st.

Because this benighted son of a poop-eating bottom-feeder is proposing to WOW the LayDeez of his constituency by teaching them the fine art of "feminine presence." I have no idea what this fucking "feminine presence" is. Is it another term for poontang?

Mind you, this asshole is one of those guys who think the Fair Pay Act doesn't even deserve a hearing, and votes against increasing the minimum wage or giving the Nice Laydeez some fucking maternity leave or elder care leave, paid, so they can do their OTHER fulltime job as well.

But wouldn't you know the Feminazis got to him, and he has now canceled all those nice classes, boo hoo. No word if he's considering any bills that might actually help low-paid women, but at least he's not gonna make taxpayers cough up to teach people how to climb fucking stairs for chrisake.

And that fucking sack of fermenting poop, @RepJoeWalsh, is actually attacking the military service of a woman who lost two legs and an arm rescuing her mates in the Iraq war. Please feel free to contact his office and tell him to go suck dick. Well, no. Be polite. Just because he's an asshole is no reason for anyone else to act that way.

I can't believe this worthless fucking putz. He wouldn't pay to keep his children fed, clothed, and housed. I mean this guy owes $200,000 in child support, and his kids had to go on welfare at one point. That's TAXPAYER MONEY that he shoud have been paying. He went to court to fight his duty to pay for the children he fathered. He would rather run up lawyers' bills than feed his own kids.

And he wants to take care of his constituents? A man who can't take care of his own fucking children can't take care of anyone else. Don't be fooled, peeps. This guy NEEDS TO LOSE his election. He's a swine who won't even pay his own children's bills.

Enough, I'm done ranting. Here's your Libertarian/Republican paradise, all you assholes. You can just suck it, srsly.

Alright, alright, I've been a beast. Here, listen to some terrific music and get ready to spread 'em for the bankers. Geez.

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Andrew Breitbart

Andrew Breitbart died this morning. I'm trying to figure out how to express how I feel about this. I think I'd better use the same exact words that he used to commemorate another great public figure, Ted Kennedy. Let's see if I can remember what he said.

Oh, yes: "I'm more than willing to go off decorum to ensure THIS MAN is not beatified, Sorry, he destroyed lives. And he knew it."

I believe he also referred to Kennedy as "a prick" and scum. Apparently, such language is appropriate for the dead. Therefore, thank you Andrew, for showing me how to speak about the dead. You're dead. You scummy prick.

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Caturday

That's Bandicoot. The big one. Gustav, the normal-sized kitty sitting next to him, has been desolate for the past two days.

Bandicoot was very, very sick this weekend, and we have no idea what happened. He spent all of Thursday night vomiting (yes, all fucking night, like every couple of hours). As you all know, certain people at La Casa de Los Gatos have extremely sensitive stomachs. We're talkin' hear someone/thing yarking within the limits of hearing distance, and barf along in tune. We're talking smell anything barfacious, like shit, stale piss, vomit, rotting corpses, and it's technicolour yawn time in old Hollywood city.

We're not naming any names now. We are not. But let me tell ya, anybody who has hardwood floors and can sleep through cat barfage, well, you're a better man than I am, Nelson.

Cats barf all the time, right? No big deal? I mean, do you know how much cats barf? If someone could figure out how to turn cat barf into a power source, we could probly run the whole planet very efficiently with low pollution thankyewveddymuch.

Wrong. If your cat barfs a LOT? Like all night a lot? Take the little fucker to the ER. They're really sick, and chances are their core temperature has dropped really low and they're completely dehydrated from all the vomiting, and if their gums are white or bluish, they may have been poisoned and could be close to death.

He was crying in a strange voice, and no beast in pain goes unheard in these parts. That's the policy. So we bundled him up and took him to the vet, and he had a chest x-ray and a sonogram and a blood panel, and I plan to plate him in gold when he returns. Lets just say it cost an arm and a leg, but I am grateful.

He has feline enteritis. Not the panleukopenia (FPV) kind. It made his tubby hurt a lot. He's on painkillers, antibiotics, and an IV drip for fluids and has been in the hospital for two days now. We're leaving in a little while to bring the babby home.

Oh, and Gustav, up there? When Gustav's mom threw a blood clot and had to be ... killed, OK? She was killed. Gustav was desolate. He had never really been separated from his Mom and didn't know how to cope. Bandicoot very kindly took him under an enormous Maine Coon paw and kept him company and kept him out of trouble and slept next to him to keep him warm, and put up with his bullshit. (Gustav was extremely neurotic and crazy when he first came, attacking all the other cats constantly and yowling in a voice like a Siamese on crack. Rescue kitteh. Bad history. Tranquilizers for two years.) So ever since The Coot has been in the horse spittle, Gustav has been inconsolable. And when he's inconsolable, he yowls. LOUDLY. You know, just in case you don't realize he's, like, suffering, or whatever.

Geezus, I can't wait for it to stop. He didn't let us sleep much so I ended up taking a pill, which I hate (I don't like taking medication of any sort and react badly to most of it, but two days without sleep is too much) and I have a splitting fucking headache from the medication. I sure hope he quits yowling soon or I'll have to kill myself.

Just kidding. If I killed myself I would miss out on the joy of bringing our own dear Bandicoot home at last, after two whole days away!

Just look at that little punim. Who could resist such a one?

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Caturday!

And we pulled a Rupert today, too. Blog, read, blog, write, putz around, and then we're gonna watch a movie, yay.

It's getting close to surgery scheduling time.

Have I mentioned how much I hate being cut on? I like to think my integument would go with me to my grave, intact. I've been lucky, never a broken bone in my long life, and this is my fifth surgery EVER (that includes the tonsillectomy as a kid, and the replacement of my left knee, and the two arthroscopic knee surgeries which resulted from accidents).

This will also be arthroscopic surgery. They don't use anesthesia for that anymore. They give you a drug called Versed, or *twilight.* It puts you under, but you can regain consciousness during. I seem to remember doing that briefly, but they hadn't started sawing on my leg yet at the time (thankyoudeity). I seem to remember someone putting their hand on my eyelids, and a voice saying "Close your eyes. Close your eyes."

I hate losing consciousness. I don't like pain much, either, but you know what, pain is something we can all put up with. It's no fun, and it can be depressing. But if the choice is taking pain drugs that turn you into a zombie or suffering a grinding pain for the hours that you're awake, but being mentally functional, I'll take the pain. And going under is the worst kind of loss of control, isn't it? I have to do this. I keep telling myself I have to do this. But I have weird reactions to drugs, not having taken many in my life. Most painkillers just knock me out for days. Vicodin gives me projectile vomits, and the last time I had Versed, I slept for three days. I just could not open my eyes, except to drink and pee. It felt like a very bad binge drunk hangover. So I guess I can look forward to a little Percocet and a lot of pain (I hate Percocet too, but my body tolerates it -- I lose my appetite and I can't sleep, but at least I'm not horking my innards out or unconscious for more than 12 hours at a stretch).

Of the 260+ books on the list for the year, I've barely read 60. Bah. Perhaps I'll save the fiction to read post-surgery. A lot of George Eliot, some Tolstoy, Don Quixote (I'm re-reading it), some Flannery O'Connor and Wallace Stegner and William Faulkner. I guess I'd better try reading all the film books before surgery. Can I do it? There's only 20 or so. I'll have to re-read Kurosawa's Something Like An Autobiography, and also Stuart Galbraith's The Emperor And The Wolf, a book on the long filmic collaboration of Kurosawa Akira and Mifune Toshiro.

So, books, film, and music, all geared up and ready. Now to put the house in a sparkling state of cleanliness and shut down the food garden for the year. All the barrels and pots need to be scrubbed, bleached, hosed down. The deck needs to be sealed. Can I do it? I hate being a gimp, I really do. I used to do all this stuff myself, for years. Now I need to rely on others. But hopefully, this surgery will put me in a position where I can exercise my way back to a reasonable shape. I don't need to be able to run up or down the stairs in the dark, four at a time, like I used to. I just need to be able to haul brush down the hill. Weed for 10 hours at a stretch, instead of having to get down off the hill because my leg is cramping. Is that too much to ask?

Enough whining. Tomorrow we have a hike planned. Let us hope that cramps, pains, etc. are under control by mid-day and we can at least try for a mile. And then it's home, sweet home, and playing with fancy machines. And eating some fine, fine ribs and roast potatoes and stir-fried choy with my two dearest friends. The obligatory tormenting of the resident felines proceeds apace. They got their pillow moved from the middle of the bed to one side, and judging from the chorus of howls that went up, you would have thought we dissected them individually without anesthesia. How pussy-whipped are we? The pillow is back in the middle of the bed, even though all the little bastids are now sleeping sprawled out all over, everywhere *except* the pillow.

A pleasant Caturday, all!

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Caturday!

Yes, it's that time of week again, and despite missing my best (and fattest) feline buddy, I still celebrate me some kittehs on a weekly basis (in between daily and hourly celebrations, of course, which are required by Our Feline Overlords).

What are the little fuckers up to, or rather, what have they been up to lately?

We got Bandicoot some chewable vitamins because he's getting old, and the sparkle in his eyes was dimming some. Needless to say, he quickly figured out that these are dispensed of a morning right after the hoomin wakes. Right, you got it. Every morning on the dot, 17 pounds of fat, hairy, stomach-swinging Bandicoot (with inch-long claws of a painful sharpness) proceeds to leap on me in anticipation. And if I don't wake up, why, he just extends those little razors and pokes me till I do. He will lick noses, exhale on me, sneeze on me, poke me in the eye with a paw, all until I wake and give him his treat.

Cat snot, ew.

Gojira would like a taste of Bandicoot's chewy vitamins, but since she already acts like she's huffing speed, she is SO not getting any. Ever since Zingiber abandoned La Casa de Los Gatos for his other home (I still maintain they're xenoanthropology grad students from a different planet out here doing fieldwork), she's taken to dragging this little toy around and making "Come watch me hunt and kill, kittens" noises (Zingiber took to doing this after he adopted Gojira and took her under his Mighty Muffin Maker -- not with real mice, of course. He was too stupid for real mice. But he regularly hunted (mostly unsuccessfully) a series of toy mice which he would then bring her, dragging them up the stairs with loud yowls).

Every night she brings the stupid thing upstairs and places it on the floor on one side of the bed or another. Throwing it down just means she'll repeat the trip. She's also (for whatever reason) decided she can't be touched or looked at with intent at certain times. Any attempt to make contact, real or virtual, leads to loud, indignant meeps, leaping and running away, frequent licking of the spot on which someone might have touched her if they weren't across the room, and terrified expressions, sometimes in quick succession.

What do I know? I hear cats make a substance in their brains that's analogous to LSD. I could believe that.

Madu is a punk cat. He got two ear piercings last week. He's a fucking idiot, too. He never seems to win a fight, but he sure knows how to get in them. Of all the animals who have lived at La Casa de Los Gatos, this is the only one who seems to get in a fight every fucking week of the year. The others got in a couple of fights, and that was it, they got the shit beat out of them and it never happened again. I'm beginning to think this dumb fuck goes to sleep in the middle of a fight. There's no other explanation for the weekly bod-mod attempts.

Gustav has taken to mugging us for pettings. Yes, the same Gustav who spent the first two (or more) years in this house acting as if he was going to be eaten by the Horrible Hoominz is now sticking his face in a person's face occasionally, asking loudly for hugs and kisses and pets. See, Prozac works miracles.

They're all getting old (except Gojira, in whom youth, quite literally, springs eternal). Right along with the rest of us, I guess.

But it's Caturday, and the garden is calling, so I'm off to enjoy the beautiful greenth, and the hot golden sun and deep blue skies of Paradise! Happy Caturday, all!

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OUT Of The Closets and Into The STREETS!!!!

Yay! New York just signed the Gay Marriage Bill, people, so what are you waiting for? Time to PAR-TAY DOWN!

FTA: "Republican Sen. Stephen Saland, who had been undecided about the bill and was one of the legislators who led the negotiations, announced during the debate on the Senate floor that he would support the bill, effectively giving it the 32 votes it needed to pass."

Everybody be sure to send a thank-you note to Rep. Saland, who will be targeted by homophobes for his support. He did the right thing, and it will cost him unless we all translate our thankyous into support at the polls. Thank you, Rep. Saland, for making this day happen!

TalkingPointsMemo has the details. And be sure to check out their pic of the celebrations at STONEWALL!!! Hai-yaah!

A great big huge gigantinormous thank you to Joshua Micah Marshall of TalkingPointsMemo who brought us this wonderful reportage.

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For Nina!

Because you know who you are. (And so do the doggies. They got your name, girl.)



A very happy birthday to a very wonderful lady.

PS: Show it to your Mom and tell her I said HI!

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Is It Just MEEEEEE?

Or are the protestors in WI drowning out the Witch of Wasilla?



Something like 6,500 people showed up in WI today. Why? Skanky Wailin'Failin'Bailin' Palin was giving a word-salad speech. AP (worthless corporate cocksucking shills that they are) claims that "hundreds" of te@b@gging Kochroaches showed up, and were met by "hundreds" of union supporters. But, if you look at this clip, it's pretty obvious that "hundreds" of teabaggers might have showed up but they were completely and totally outnumbered by THOUSANDS of union supporters. Who managed to shout Skanky's speech down. Go, WISCONSIN! Show us how DEMOCRACY'S DONE!

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Not Dead Yet

Goddammit.



Rumours of our demise have been greatly exaggerated.

This is the best fucking ad I have ever seen in my life.

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Congratulations Are In Order!

It's the morning after the night before, and what a night it was! First off the bat, congratulations, California! It looks like the voters of the Great Golden State proved themselves, once again, to be the forward-looking independent-minded, trend-bucking bunch of eccentrics they've always prided themselves on being. Result: Governor Jerry Brown, Senator Barbara Boxer, Congressmembers Nancy Pelosi, Fortney "Pete" Stark, Henry Waxman, Lynn Woolsey, and a slew of other progressive Democrats. Neutral about Kamala Harris, but it looks as if she might have won her race, too. Thank you for keeping the Great State of California a deep and enduring blue. All over CA, Democrats have won their races by 60-80%.

Congratulations are also due to the Great State of Colorado! Despite forebodings and prognostications of doom, CO now has a Democratic Governor, John Hickenlooper, who ran on NOT attacking the other candidates. Yay, Hickenlooper. Hickenlooper's win means that disgusting maggot, Tom Tancredo, will have to find some other body politic to devour. CO has also returned Senator Michael Bennett to his Legislative seat. Good riddance to Ken Buck, the man who won't admit to wearing high heels. Finally, thanks to Dan Maes' dismal showing at the polls (<10% support), the Republican party is now an official minority party in CO. Thank you Dan, and thanks to all your teabagging supporters. Suck that Koch.

Congratulations to the State of Rhode Island, where former Republican-turned-independent and always-sensible moderate Lincoln Chaffee won the Governor's mansion with the help of Democrats, who turned the whole state blue. Democrats won all their statewide races. GO, RI! And as for Frank Caprio, dude, this is why you DO NOT fucking diss the fucking President of the fucking United fucking States, OK? He's the Prez. You might not like him, but he has a huge and loyal following. President Obama, despite the terrible shape of this country when he took over, still has higher ratings than most other Presidents at his stage of holding office. When you diss him, you  piss off a lot of Democrats who might otherwise have thought of voting for you. I hope you've learned your lesson., you little fucker. Now go hold your tongue and try to make yourself useful.

Congratulations to the blue, blue State of Massachusetts! Deval Patrick keeps the Governor's mansion, and Barney Frank goes back to the Senate! And better yet, Democrats won EVERY SINGLE RACE in MA.

Congratulations to the State of New Hampshire for retaining your Democratic governor, John Lynch. Despite the efforts of homophobes to unseat him because he supports LGBTQ rights, Lynch beat out the Republican handily and goes on to serve his fourth term. Some anti-incumbent mood.

Congratulations to the State of Maryland for returning feminist icon Barbara Mikulski to the Senate. The Senate sure could use a few more like her, and a lot less like, gee, Cornyn? Coburn? Brownback?

Congratulations to the State of Connecticut for rejecting Linda McMahon and supporting Richard Blumenthal instead. Blumenthal's clearly the better candidate, and your voters proved that they knew it.

Congratulations to Delaware for sending the would-be witch and perennial Senate Candidate, Christine O'Donnell, back to her battery-toy collection. DE went with Chris Coons, who knows the First Amendment by heart. Yay, DE!

Congratulations to the Great State of New York for choosing Andrew Cuomo instead of krayZloony Carl Paladino, who brought his baseball bat to his concession speech. The guy is nuttier than a fruitcake, and I'm glad he's history. Also, Schumer. I'm not wild about him, but his constituents seem to be, so good work, NY, for sending him back to the Senate. Pity y'all allowed five districts to slip into Repub hands, but Gillibrand won her race, so overall, y'all done good.

Congratulations to the beautiful State of Hawai'i for making Neil Abercrombie your new Governor! Duke Aiona was a dangerous loon. Abercrombie was by far the better choice. Thanks to y'all, Democrat Brian Schatz takes the Lt.-Gov's seat. Democrats hold both the State House and Senate, so y'all are on the right road! Daniel Inouye returns to the Federal Senate. Colleen Hanabusa beat Charles Djou. And Mazie Hirono returns to her job with a solid win. 

Congratulations to the Silver State for handing Sauron Angle a 7-8 point defeat in her widely acclaimed teabagger race for the Senate. The Koch brothers and Dick Armey spent millions there, only to lose. Happy Day. NV is no more for sale than CA or CO.

Congratulations to the Grand Canyon State for returning Progressive Rep Raul Grijalva to the House, despite last-minute attacks on him and his office. Congratulations for returning Democrats Ed Pastor and Gabrielle Gifford, also. Unfortunately, y'all have to live with the twin embarrasments of Dan "Potatoe-Head" Quayle and Jeff "There's A Good Reason For My Last Name" Flake. Also, Brewer? Srsly?

The Republicans are spinning like tops to claim that this was a landslide for their end of the political spectrum. We here at La Casa de Los Gatos are just really glad that the worst of the teabagger candidates went down faster than a manwhore. Palin endorsee and campaign slimebag Joe Miller? Looks like he's going down. Sauron "Church Lady" Angle? Gone, gone, gone. Cara Carleton Sneed Fiorina? History. Chuck deVore, are you happy now? PayLin endorsed her instead of you. It was the kiss of death.

Meg "Watch Me Spend My Billionz" Whitman? Gone. Christine "Masturbation is For Me, Not Thee" O'Donnell? Gone straight to jail, did not pass Go, did not collect those $200M dollars she needs to pay off all her bad debt, rehabilitate her candidacy, and try for political life ever again. Ken "Vote For Me, I Don't Wear Heels" Buck? A bad memory. Dan "Bicycles Are A UN Plot" Maes? To be remembered forever as the man who single-handedly took the Republican party to minority status in CO.

The teabagger candidates who won — Marco Rubio, Nikki Haley, and Rand Paul — represent a mere fraction of the total. But Rand will be a thorn in Mitch McConnell's side, which makes us kinda happy. Prediction? More political grandstanding, posturing, and fractures ahead. The Blue states seem to have become bluer, and the Red states seem divided between radicaloony teabaggers and moderate conservatives who find them unacceptable, with Democrats and Progressives tucked away in various corners, working hard to turn their Red states Blue. Despite teabagger challenges to most Republican candidates, most of them survived intact (Sam Brownback won handily in KS, Roy Blunt Trauma in MS, and Governor Goodhair in TX).

What's interesting is what happened to Blue Running Dog democrats, like Stephanie Herseth-Sandlin and Blanche Lincoln. 23 out of 54 Blue Dogs lost their seats. And their support of, (or opposition to) universal health care had nothing to do with it. If anything, we can expect more progressive Democrats in the House.

So, overall, as to be expected in a mid-term election year, the party in control lost seats. It's not a stinging defeat, it just shows that more work needs to be done. Today we celebrate. Tomorrow, we're back at work.

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In Honour of Labouring Folks Everywhere

Today, we celebrate Labour Day (which, everywhere else in the world, is celebrated on May 1st, also known as Lady Day) with a little ditty from the Great Depression. No doubt it will warm the cockles of every heart that has experienced these fine characters, especially of late.


Butcher, Baker, Candlestick Maker

1.
I'm an autocratic figure in these democratic states,
A dandy demonstration of hereditary traits.
As the children of the baker bake the most delicious breads,
As the sons of Casanova fill the most exclusive beds,
As the Barrymores, the Roosevelts, and others I could name
Inherited the talents that perpetuate their fame,
My position in the structure of society I owe
To the qualities my parents bequeathed me long ago.
My pappy was a gentleman, and musical to boot,
He used to play piano in a house of ill repute.
The madam was a lady, and a credit to her cult.
She enjoyed my pappy's playing, and I was the result!
So my mammy and my pappy are the ones I have to thank
That I'm Chairman of the Board of the National Silly Bank!

Chorus:
Oh, our parents forgot to get married,
Oh, our parents forgot to get wed,
Did a wedding bell chime, it was always a time
When our parents were somewhere in bed.
Then all thanks to our kind loving parents,
We are kings in the land of the free.
Your banker, your broker, your Washington joker,
Three prominent bastards are we, tra la,
Three prominent bastards are we!

2.
In a cozy little farmhouse in a cozy little dell,
A dear old-fashioned farmer and his daughter used to dwell.
She was pretty, she was charming, she was tender, she was mild,
And her sympathy was such that she was frequently with child.
The year her hospitality attained a record high
She became the happy mother of an infant, which was I.
Whenever she was gloomy I could always make her grin
By childishly inquiring who my daddy could have been.
The hired man was favored by the girls in Mummy's set
And a trav'ling man from Scranton was an even money bet.
But such were Mammy's motives, and such was her allure,
That even Roger Babson wasn't altogether sure.
Well I took my mother's morals and I took my daddy's crust,
And I grew to be the founder of the New York Blanker's Trust.

Chorus:
Oh, our parents forgot to get married,
Oh, our parents forgot to get wed,
Did a wedding bell chime, it was always a time
When our parents were somewhere in bed.
Then all thanks to our kind loving parents,
We are kings in the land of the free.
Your banker, your broker, your Washington joker,
Three prominent bastards are we, tra la,
Three prominent bastards are we!

3.
In a torrid penal chain gang on a dusty southern road,
My late lamented daddy had his permanent abode.
Now some were there for stealing, but my daddy's only fault
Was an overwhelming tendency for criminal ault.
His philosophy was simple and quite free of moral taint:
Seduction is for sissies, but a he-man wants his rape.
Daddy's total list of victims was embarrassingly rich,
And one of them was Mother, but he couldn't tell me which.
Well I didn't go to college, but I got me a degree.
I reckon I'm the model of a perfect S.O.B.
I'm a debit to my country but a credit to my Dad,
The most expensive senator the country ever had.
I remember Daddy's warning -- that raping is a crime,
Unless you rape the voters a million at a time.

Chorus:
Oh, our parents forgot to get married,
Oh, our parents forgot to get wed,
Did a wedding bell chime, it was always a time
When our parents were somewhere in bed.
Then all thanks to our kind loving parents,
We are kings in the land of the free.
Your banker, your broker, your Washington joker,
Three prominent bastards are we, tra la,
Three prominent bastards are we!

4.
I'm an ordinary figure in these democratic states,
A pathetic demonstration of hereditary traits.
As the children of the cop possess the flattest kind of feet,
As the daughter of the floozie has a waggle to her seat,
My position at the bottom of society I owe
To the qualities my parents bequeathed me long ago.
My father was a married man and, what is even more,
He was married to my mother -- a fact which I deplore.
I was born in holy wedlock, consequently by and by,
I was rooked by every bastard who had plunder in his eye.
I invested, I deposited, I voted every fall,
And I saved up every penny and the bastards took it all.
At last I've learned my lesson and I'm on the proper track:
I'm a self-appointed bastard and I'M GOING TO GET IT BACK!

Chorus:
Oh, our parents forgot to get married,
Oh, our parents forgot to get wed,
Did a wedding bell chime, it was always a time
When our parents were somewhere in bed.
Then all thanks to our kind loving parents,
We are kings in the land of the free.
Your banker, your broker, your Washington joker,
Three prominent bastards are we, tra la,
Three prominent bastards are we!

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Happy New Year!

Another year has come to an end. And what a difference from a mere year ago! It's hard to capture the rage and despair of 2008, the craziness of the elections, the culmination of eight years of suffering through the policies of the demented cabal of the Naked Emperor in Washington, with its know-nothing appointees, its grand pooh-bahs with degrees in various ludicrous offshoots of fundamentalist theology from various ludicrous fundamentalist "shcoolz."

Thanks to the endless drumbeats of the Republican media machine, we could be forgiven for thinking that the masses are bitterly dissatisfied with President Obama's first year in office, but in fact it seems the masses are too busy dealing with daily life and bad teevee to cast more than an occasional glance at the goings-on in Washington.

Which is really not very good at all, but after years of being wound up to fever pitch and suffering the horrors of unbridled Republican greed (which seems to be getting worse, or exposed more often, or something), I can understand people wanting to take a break. And there is no denying that the President has worked wonders in foreign affairs. There is a new response that Americans traveling abroad excite, a new comity. While Republicans at home continue to froth and fume, growing increasingly rabid, turning over more and more of their power to shrill idiots like (ins)Hannity, Blech, and Limpballs, the whole world seems to be willing to relax a little and offer the new guy a much friendlier and more accepting demeanor than we've seen in nearly a decade.

Russia joining the US in sanctions for Iran? Who'd'a thunk?

This year has been rife in challenges. The collapse of Wall St., the taxpayer bailout, the stalling of the closure of Gitmo, the fight after fight after fight for healthcare, the destruction of Main street mortgage values ... no one can say it wasn't arduous and, at times, wretched. But — we made it. There's a spirit of caring and sharing in the air which has not been diffused by the hit our incomes took. Yahoo is offering its employees a chance to do good as a year-end bonus; Hairdressers are offering free haircuts to job seekers; and organizations of volunteers have teamed with restaurants and chefs in some cities to donate and deliver food to those who need it.

Enjoy your friends and families, this New Year's Eve. If you're going out, stay safe and wrap up warm. Make sure your designated driver carts your drunken asses safely home. Or better yet, snuggle up with your sweetie in front of a blazing fire, or a warm heater, and play a friendly game of, I dunno, Scrabble? Monopoly? Something fun.

La Casa de Los Gatos is dining on Mongolian beef with lots of dried red chillies in it; sauteed Chinese greens in Xiaohsing rice wine, soy sauce, cornstarch, chicken stock, with a couple drops of sesame oil; and plain rice.

Tomorrow we break out the Merlot with dear friend and fellow blogger Ms. Manitoba, and grill/broil filet steaks with different seasonings. It's our steak taste testing New Year's celebration.

Details to be posted later.

Thanks for your visits, your comments, your friendship. May the New Year be much kinder to you and yours than the old has been. And a very Happy New Year to all.

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Workers' Rights: Happy Labour Day

The U.S. is the only nation in the world that celebrates Labour Day on a day other than May 1st, which is International Labour Day. There's reasons for that, even if they are pathetic, wimpy reasons. But enough with the quibble.

Today is Labour Day in this fair nation, and let us all take the time to remember that it was the strong hands of working men and women that gave us the blessings we take for granted today. Let us honour those workers, both voluntary and involuntary (although, let's face it, unless you're doing something you really love, all work is involuntary. We work so that we will not starve.), who built the roads, the bridges, the hospitals and schools, who taught our children and nursed our sick and cared for our aged and our poor. Who grew our crops and picked them and trucked them to market so we could enjoy the bounty of the land. Who designed and built and assembled the cars we drove. Who fixed our machines and worked on our railroads.

Remember the slaves of African descent who were forced to give the fruits of their labour to others, who profited greatly from them. Remember the Chinese railroad workers, brought here in their thousands to provide cheap labour while surviving somehow in substandard housing, the victims of hatred. Remember the Japanese truck gardeners and market gardeners, imprisoned in concentration camps and robbed of the fruits of their labour and everything they owned. Remember the Indians who came as farmers and agricultural labourers and were vilified for their ethnicity and religion, prohibited from bringing their wives and families and victims of the same Exclusion Act that was used to discriminate against the Chinese. Remember the Irish, sold into indentured servitude which outlasted their own lifetimes in many cases. Remember those of every ethnicity and colour, the workers who came from all over the world seeking freedom and a better life for themselves or their children.



Without the labour of millions of hard-working people, we would not have the abundance of riches that we enjoy today. Therefore, as we enjoy this public holiday, let us remember those who made today a day off from work for millions of labouring men and women. And let us honour those who suffered in the long struggle for the right of working people everywhere to be treated as human beings, and not chattel.

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Happy Bastille Day!

Prise de la Bastille, Jean Pierre Houel

Bastille Day is a national holiday in La Belle France! A tribute to the right of the people to protect their interests against those powers that choose to rule them in the most arbitrary fashion for the benefit, not of the people, but of said powers.

Here is more information on Bastille Day.

A little over one month after Bastille Day, the Declaration of The Rights of Man and of The Citizen was adopted by the National Constituent Assembly of the French Revolution. This declaration forms the basis of international human rights laws which govern us all (hopefully) till today. Sadly, as our previous post shows, they have not come into that universal acceptance that humanity really must achieve before Vogons show up and blow us up for being such a dreadful species — no, wait, the Vogons are much worse. OK, let's assume that the Universe contains SOME form of intelligent life. Now, imagine them casting a jaundiced, at best, eyeball upon our planet. Whad'ya think? Will they let us live?

My money's on "No." Let's keep working on changing their minds, though!

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Caturday!

Yeah, yeah, it's ICHC

And here in the fire zone, the grass and weeds have already turned brown despite a long, wet spring. Fortunately, it's not as hot this year as it was last year. Nevertheless, it's time to put on the shorts and the old sun hat and venture downstairs for another day of weeding. We leave you to determine how much pain this day's adventure will cost. Fuck me blind, when you haven't used your muscles for over a year, they find new and innovative ways to let you know that fact.

A joyous Independence Day to all! The Declaration of Independence belongs to this day, and herewith a brief excerpt to remind us all of why we celebrate this day:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.

"To effect their safety and happiness ... ." Wouldn't those words lend themselves to the interpretation that a government that does not provide health care for its citizens should be rejected in favour of one that can and does?

La Casa de Los Gatos apologizes for the desultory blogging of that issue, and begs its friends and readers to understand that recent health problems make one unable to brain sufficiently to say something intelligent and useful on the topic, wherefore it is better to say nothing at all than to irritate by one's stupidity. We urge our fellow hoominz to continue pushing for Universal Health Care - a public option that will safeguard the health of nearly fifty million of our fellow Americans who are currently without any health care at all, and who, being placed in this position by us all, constitute a greater threat to the public safety of all of us in case of an epidemic than the expenditure of tax monies in providing them with health care possibly could.

Remember, you Republican nutcases and "small-government" yobbos — in the face of a raging epidemic, it's too late to vaccinate. Precautionary measures must be taken before the fact, not in response to it. New and increasingly deadly epidemics are moving swiftly among us, thanks to global warming and increasing urbanization. Better to spend the money now if need be than regret the loss of one's loved ones after the fact.

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Caturday!

Catness of ICHC

Yupperoonie, it's that time of week again, when we fart in the general direction of Republicans who will not play nice no matter how often they're told they should. Pfft! A pox on all your houses, we say. Sod off, you worthless buggers.

Here's Jon Stewart laying down the good smack to John Sununu, whiny Republican extraordinaire (remember all the stuff his Daddy was busted for back in, let's see, when was that?). And, of course, his own political positions are to the far right of Attila the Hun, but that's another story.

Anywho, it is Caturday, and teh video clip is to larf. Jon Stewart should be required watching for our spineless Democrats in Congress. Their performance with the Repubs has made me long for a third party more than ever before. However, I will say that Nancy P. has done us proud. She's got bigger brassier balls than the rest of the whingers combined, and it looks like she might be whupping some of her fellow congresscritters upside the haid in an attempt to force them to stand instead of grovel, for a change. Go, Nance!

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

John Sununu

Daily Show Full Episodes
Important Things With Demetri Martin

Funny Political News
Joke of the Day

Jon sure can crush the writhing bugscum of the Rebugosphere, can't he? Someone put a paper plate under Sununu's head, because I think Jon just handed it to him. Yay, Jon.

In other news, here's a test you can take to confirm your worst suspicions. I confirmed mine.



Credit to Bill over at The Evil Eyebrow for getting his suspicions confirmed first, thereby sending me tumbling arse over teakettle down the primrose path to Execution By Kitteh. Bill's got it pretty easy, akshurly. His feline seems less determined. Or maybe I just have more of the greedy little sods about.

A mass kitteh-sleeping-olympix training event is scheduled for today on account of teh rain, teh cold, and teh gray. Feh. I'm off to make beef stew, and an oxtail stew with barley. Stay warm, y'all, and have a happy Caturday and VD!

From ICHC

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Happy Darwin Day!

Today is the birthday of Charles Darwin, the scientist who gave us the Theory of Evolution.

Image from Millard Fillmore's Bathtub

Darwin developed his theory as a result of his voyages on the HMS Beagle (pictured above), during the course of which he observed on various islands the pressures of natural selection and how they modified creatures that had originally shared a single ancestor. Thanks to this great man of science, we now have some understanding of our own place in the vast array of living beings on Gaia our mother planet.

Today is also the birthday of Abraham Lincoln, an odd-looking human being who surpassed the limitations of being dirt-poor and unhandsome to become the President of the United States and lead the nation through some of its toughest times. In memory of which, we extend our good wishes to his fellow-Illinoisian and our current President, Barack Obama, who himself transcended similar difficulties and is now leading us at a time when we desperately need his excellent leadership.

As for Valentine's Day, bugger that commercially-created holiday, we say. Grab your sweetie right now and give them a royal rogering all weekend long. Celebrate science! The science of smelling just right to your partner, the science of airborne pheromones that make you want to do the horizontal samba.

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

Today is the birthday of a very special woman who chooses to disguise her identity on this blog as Friend of TPC. I am so lucky that she chooses to call me a friend!

A very happy birthday to you, dear FoTPC, and I hope you're thoroughly enjoying today (right through the weekend — no need to stint on this celebration thing!).

I'm not saying how many years ago this beautiful woman was born, a sweet little girl who grew into the promise and the fullness of her years. But she has been a good friend to all fortunate enough to be in her circle. She's a brilliant, talented, beautiful creature with a heart full of love and a willingness to take on and chew out all those nasty little wretches who would put their own welfare before this country. Her passionate commitment to human rights, to equality, and to all things that comprise our beautiful earth and our living environment inspired me to start blogging. She's a scientist with a brilliant mind, a committed atheist who managed to survive a conservative family and emerge graceful, loving, and caring despite her trials. Thank you for keeping this blog going, thank you for all your terrific posts, and most of all, thank you for being in my life!

Lift a glass of champagne for me, girl! Happy birthday!

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Diary of A Trapped House Cat

From La Casa de Los Gatos, a few fragments of a diary titled "Political Cat" have surfaced. They make for sad reading:

I am no longer mobile, unable to navigate the steep stairs leading up to my place of rest (or, let's face it, more meaningfully, down to the kitchen for food) without the aid of massive quantities of untrendy chemical accoutrements. A layer of cat hair on the already slippery hardwood of the floor and stairs, far from ensuring a soft landing, only contrives to add to my fear of slippage. Although food is brought up daily by my captors, I long to run, free and wild once again, over the carpet of slugs infesting what I once fondly thought of as MY garden. Life sucks. Six weeks left to surgery. I think I need better pain meds. Unfortunately they make it tough to function, and drooling meditatively has never been one of my favourite competitive sports. In the event, I must offer up this morsel for the amusement of all of us who really loved and admired Hillary Clinton before she went over to the Darth side and are so grateful she's back among the light. Notice, please, that the imprisoned myrmidons of one Bootsie Ferragamo, who last dominated the dungeons of the State Department, are celebrating their release with a fervor heretofore unseen in career diplomats.

To quote the late, great John Lennon, Labia and Genitalmen, I give you Secretary of State Hillary Clinton! Three cheers to the auld girl for pulling it off. Doesn't she look great? And sound great?

Yeah, yeah, I'm an unabashed Clinton supporter, have always been, probably always will be. She put me off for a while with her underhanded tactics, but yaknow, she wanted to win and although I didn't agree with what she was doing, nobody can say Baby don't got no balls. Hers are bigger and brassier than anybody's, and yes, that includes Rahm Emanuel. I'm still really glad President Obama won. He has the breadth and depth of vision to benefit the whole country and his "no-drama" style is more reassuring to us wot been beat down by 12 years of the screamfest that started with the Clintons and ended with Drunky McStaggers.

So, enjoy this clip of Hill getting lauded publicly by hand-kissing celebrants. You'd be kissing her hands too if she'd saved you from that gap-toothed thigh-booted Dominatrix Bootsie Ferragamo.

The news is this coming couple of weeks is surgery prep. First week of March is surgery. After that, ten days of recovery, and I should be back home by the end of the third week of March. Then it's physical therapy, at home for 8 weeks and at the PT's office for 8 weeks. I'm told replacement knees are tough on old farts, but anything has to be better than sitting around semiconscious and unable to enjoy anything but food, cigarettes, and the occasional sip of booze. Fuck me, fellas, sitting around on the old situpon smoking, drinking, and stuffing one's face is NOT all it was made out to be. What would I like to be doing? Hiking! Goddammit. Hiking. The weather is springlike, sunny with a little nip in the air, and if there was justice in the world I'd be down the hill checking my plum tree for blossoms and rooting out the sorrel grass by hand. Pfaugh!

Blogging occasional till surgery; restricted to the kindness of Ms. Manitoba and FoTPC and Sirenita Lake for about 4 months post-surgery; resuming again in full and aggravated mode sometime in late April or May, I think.

Don't desert me, goddammit, y'awl. It's pretty damn uninspiring crushing one's coccyx in a bed however comfortable. And people keep getting me books to fucking read!

Your comments, however rude, welcomed. No threats, please, unless they involve some lively slap-and-tickle in a humorous manner.

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