I really don’t understand. We have a president that has been asleep at the demographic for years. He’s accomplished much but betrayed us handily. The war on drugs. In as much as it is a betrayal of African Americans as it is a betrayal of all Americans. This tragic bullshit in the gulf and the painfully obvious consequences that will keep on giving. Stocking his cabinet with the same fuckers financial that steered this huge boat into the berg.
And then there’s the alternative and this really chaps my ass. The douche nozzle that is Willard Mittens Romney. Guy Smiley. Presumptive nominee. Jackwagon extraodanaire.
Let me ask you something. Honestly. Do you really want this any way the wind blows, disingenuous, ridiculously wealthy blowhard running your shit? This prickly pear cactus makes $20+ million a year and pays a lower, much lower percentage of that in taxes than you or I. What sane, rational dumbass could possibly entertain the notion that this magic underwear wearing billionaire could possibly have his best interest in mind?
How did we get here? How is this even a conversation, much less a contest?
I want the pizza with the hot dog crust. I hear Pizza Hut is behind some cheeseburger crust in Asia somewhere. I saw a commercial and it looked to me delicious, notwithstanding the rather obvious calorically cholesterol issues. Who thinks about that shit when inhaling hot slices of cheesy goodness? I like hot dogs. I believe there should always be cheese on a hot dog. And always onions. Always onions. Always mayonnaise and mustard. Always. It’s just not a hot dog without mayonnaise, mustard, onions and cheese.
I know a wine. Ode to Turley Zin. I got a call. A fine zinfandel that is all cedar smoke, plum and voluptuous dry berries. Then there’s that mouth feel thing. The weight of it. The fruit and the smoke. One bottle for now and one for later. All I’ve ever tasted has been worth the price. The woman is a genius. It’s a hard bottle to find. I afforded it.
Lavender mustard. I don’t know yet.
There’s little doubt in my mind that this election is Obama’s to lose.
Polls are beginning to lean like trees in heavy weather in his favor. The housewives and girlfriends. The Latinos. Kinda like those neat rows of trees in black & white footage from nuclear bomb tests back in the day before women dared speak their minds about their very own wombs while mankind had discovered how to destroy itself.
The flip top heads on television caution us to be vigilant and prepared, it’s gonna be close they say, but I just don’t see it.
Unless Americans are fucking idiots.
Like there’s no evidence of that.
Ted Nugent endorses Romney with an excoriating screed at an NRA convention. Really awful stuff. The Secret Service engages in lukewarm pursuit. Whatever. It speaks volumes for the Republican party that a hapless presumptive nominee like Guy Smiley would ever deign to seek the nod from such an insipid, ignoble dickbrain. Terrible Ted was a decent guitar slinger in his day before being absolutely eclipsed by a fertile and far more talented field of innovative pickers, pluckers, strummers and tappers. I am merely appalled at his words. I don’t anticipate losing any sleep over his intentions. It’s an ironic beauty of the first amendment that allows shitstains like The Motor City Madman to open his mouth and remove all doubt. It speaks volumes about camp Romney that they think an endorsement by this brand of “patriot” is somehow cool.
Fuck the NRA.
So yeah, it’s Obama’s to lose.
Here’s one tragedy that doesn’t seem to count for shit either way.
Ted Nugent and Barack Obama agree on one thing. The prison industrial complex. Both believe that their ardent supporters should go to prison for smoking pot. Ted Nugent proudly proclaims he’s never used drugs and hates anyone who does, and loathes anyone who doesn’t own a gun with which to shoot defenseless animals. Barack Obama admits using drugs and is rapidly outmatching the previous administration in the war thereon. More medical marijuana clinics busted, hassled and harassed than under Dick-in-Bush. All this after an explicit promise not to pursue such innocuous matters.
Ted Nugent is an idiot of stratospheric jingoistic ignorance. Our President is calm, cool and reasonable.
What the fuck?
What people don’t understand is that it’s not just big pharma that is threatened and vested in current policy but it’s big oil as well. From efficacious treatment of pain management to plastics and textiles, owned and controlled by the pharmaceutical and petroleum cabals. From sea to shining sea. The dashboard of a Chevy Volt or your milk carton or your ice cube tray could be made from hemp you fools. Our fear is fierce.
Both betray their followers; Nugent discards everyone who ever smoked a blunt and listened to his mediocre guitar playing and Obama, with far more egregious cowardice, betrays his very own people who are disproportionately profiled, persecuted, prosecuted, imprisoned, vilified, and ultimately ruined by the profoundly absurd war on drugs. America incarcerates more people per capita than any nation on earth and the most gargantuan sum to be had is the non-violent drug offenders.
Let me tell you a story.
A little over 20 years ago, I was in my hometown on vacation. I found myself in the midst of an epic bender early one morning on a stretch of flat, straight blacktop between the town I grew up in and the the big city closest, traveling at a rate of speed that would have made a NASCAR amateur giggle. I wasn’t driving, but we were fucked up. Drunk and smoking dope like chimneys. Going so goddamn fast we didn’t know we were being chased by the cops from the town we’d just left. After cresting the hill and slowing down into the town the three of us had grown up in, there were five or six police cruisers waiting for us, red lights angrily spraying the sagebrush and asphalt predawn.
Stupid is as stupid does.
Booked on felony possession in a state with draconian mandatory sentencing. Remember, this was over twenty years ago. All I had was my record company ID and a thimble full of shake in the bottom of one of those little Zip-Lock bags you buy silver hoops in. They finger printed me and allowed me a phone call. I had to tell my parents I’d been arrested for possession of a controlled substance. It would make the hometown paper the next day. They gave me an orange jumpsuit and plastic slippers.
My mother bailed me out after the banks opened. The DA was a friend of the family. It turned out okay. I’m here to write about it.
Last weekend I had to renew my doctor recommended medical marijuana thingy. I did that. Then I went across the street to a place across the street from a recording studio I worked at for the better part of a decade and legally purchased an eight of Larry OG.
Having said all that, why would you still want this sycophantic, wankering, lying sociopath, used car salesman, clown car pilot as your president?
I’ll be voting for the sane guy, even though he’s kind of a dick.
Drinks for my friends