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August 7, 2009 - July 31, 2009

Thursday, August 06, 2009

Harry's Birthday

PSONGS. Yeah. An older guy with white hair. And a reputation with the ladies. Hell, he's just 63. No, I'm not talking Clinton, I'm talking Harry. It's his birthday today. And yours too.

Chapter 48
When all had come on board the Learjet, Harry gave his followers great things to eat and drink and inhale,
2 And other things besides,
3 And when they had been satisfied of all their wants, he spoke to them, saying,
4 Do not question your good fortune,
5 Or think any more about it.
6 We will travel together for a while,
7 Then go our separate ways,
8 And all will be as it should be. Okay?
9 Thereupon, all agreed speedily that it would all be okay,
10 Just as Harry said.
11 But later that night, the Learjet encountered bad weather over the Rocky Mountains,
12 And the followers became afraid that the plane would crash,
13 And awakened Harry to tell him of their fear, and ask what they should do.
14 But he replied to them calmly, saying, Do what you will. It does not matter to me.
15 Each of your should act in accordance with his nature.
16 If you are a coward, then cry and moan and run around in a great panic until the plane crashes or it doesn't.
17 If it is your nature to be calm in times of great emergency, be calm.
18 If it is your first instinct to have sexual relations with a beautiful young woman, or each other, do so.
19 Do not add to your stress by trying to be different than you are,
20 Or stronger than you are,
21 But be yourself,
22 Exactly the way you are,
23 And act in accordance with your desire.
24 For myself, I prefer not to think about it at all.
25 Whereupon Harry went back to sleep, and each of the followers reacted as he was inclined to do, and all went as Harry said,
26 And the plane landed safely the next morning in Southern California.

And the Learjet Twins were sooooo happy.

And so it goes. Happy Birthday, Harry.

UPDATE 06/11/09: Well. Commenter "Bill" got all bent out of shape about this entry. We suggested he was overreacting. Perhaps we made the wrong assumption about who "Bill" was. Get a load of this:

Bill Clinton Celebrates His 63rd in Las Vegas
By Adam Nagourney

LAS VEGAS – No one can say former President Bill Clinton doesn’t know how to throw a birthday party for former President Bill Clinton.

Mr. Clinton is in Las Vegas on Monday as one of the marquee speakers at the National Clean Energy Summit, put together by Harry Reid of Nevada, the Senate majority leader. The event has drawn a pretty impressive turn-out, from former Vice President Al Gore to the wealthy oilman T. Boone Pickens.

But it became clear that something else was afoot in this sweltering desert city when some of Mr. Clinton’s friends – the kind who would appear not to have a particular interest or expertise in the kind of summit Mr. Reid has arranged – were spotted on the Vegas strip.

Turns out Mr. Clinton decided to celebrate his 63rd birthday with a dinner at one of this city’s hottest – and most pricey – restaurants: Craftsteak at the MGM Grand hotel. How pricey? The 8-ounce wagyu New York strip steak goes for $240. (Potatoes and other sides are extra.)

Among those who are on the list:

    * Terry McAuliffe, the former leader of the Democratic National Committee who is Mr. Clinton’s long-time friend and golfing buddy
    * Paul Begala, a senior adviser from his 1992 presidential campaign
    * John D. Podesta, a former White House chief of staff under Mr. Clinton
    * Haim Saban, a friend, Hollywood executive and significant financial contributor to Mr. Clinton and his efforts
    * Steve Bing, the Hollywood media mogul who has become one of Mr. Clinton’s best friends and regularly lends him his private jet. (Most recently, Mr. Clinton used the jet for his trip to North Korea, where he helped negotiate the release of two American journalists who worked for Mr. Gore.)
    * Jay Carson, a former communications director for Mr. Clinton.

As of Monday afternoon, it is not clear that Mr. Gore – who appears to have had something of a rapprochement with Mr. Clinton after the North Korea rescue mission – was going to be on hand.

Of course Gore isn't on the list. He was always, and nothing more than, a gofer. But we are sorry that this particular white-haired, 63-year-old "First Child of the Boom" still has to borrow his luxurious babe-filled jets. Our guy has no such problem. In the long run, class will tell. BTW, the weather in Rio today is fabulous.


Tuesday, August 04, 2009


The car Obama was born in.

[Boss asked me to post this one. He chucked his computer through a window, after a heated screaming match with it. He wrote this as me. In my style, he tells me. I haven't had a chance to read it. Sure it's awesome.

[You say I don't sound all that enthusiastic? Your ears (or eyes?) are playing tricks on you. Couldn't be more stoked to be the butt of one of the Old Man's "homages." I'm fit to burst.]

BRIZONI'S THE MAN. Rumors are, it was driving in Kenya at the time when Obama popped out of it. How un-American can you get? Except that a car isn't a vagina, even if it provides a lot of the same comedic opportunities. Which is why I'm now going to proceed to do a totally AllahPundit trashing of Birthers catalyxed by a bunch of killer vaginal jokes. Cool, huh?. I mean, imagine. I have it all set up. The foreign car, the yaaaaawning SOMETHING, and hey, the punchline writes itself, right? Doesn't Michelle have a yaaaaawning  SOMETHING herself in herWookie-sized Princetonian carcass, and then I close on just how stupid and southern the people are who believe Obama has anything to hide about his past. GIT IT ON, BRUTHA.

Uh, Boss. You asked (ordered) me to post this as if I wrote it, and (given the fact you set fire to your computer in yet another drunken rage). I was willing. I mean, you're the Boss and all. Except that in this instance you're totally, completely full of shit.

I have to admit I love the idea of an Isetta as a metaphor for the First Lady's vagina. I even love the slick word tricks (don't know their names) you use to blur reality into Obama somehow being born out of his own wife's Isetta door. But there comes a point where even I draw the line. And it's here.

Like, I got some problems with this whole Birthers are idiots position. Number One: Allahpundit thinks they're idiots. Allahpundit. Wake up, Boss! Are you listening AllahPundit!

I don't like to tell stories out of school, but there was this time that the Boss and I were hanging out on Twitter (we're really tight that way), and I said I saw something clever on HotAir and the Boss, he says, across however many miles and gigabytes of difference, he says, "That AllahPundit. The only writer he ever met bit him in the leg. And the writer died a day later."

After that I went to Borneo for a month or so, okay, seven, and Suli Li and I were just about to become a lifetime item when the Boss showed up again in his indefatigable and most remarkably sudden way. How he knew I don't know. But there he was, damn him, with his tradmark hundred-proof Stolichnaya bottle welded to his hand. "Meeee," he said -- and this mind you, was at the exact moment when the presiding shaman asked if anyone had any reason to keep Suli's and my eternal union from reuniting the shattered fronds of the [entire fucking, just so you know] universe -- "Heeeeeey, that's Brizoni. He owes me money, amd not only that, but his cat bit my dog and cost me thousands of dollars in cosmetic surgery. An Akita with a cat-jaw sized hole in his ear almost never wins the annual Animal X Games -- you know, the 'Kill or Be Killed English Sweepstakes' Michael Vick blesses every year in Druidic robes at Stonehenge."

Well, I'm just saying. I haven't seen Suli since (I sleep with a loaded revolver instead.) I've been reading all the adulation in the sci-fi comments the Boss arranged for himself. Okay. I admit the guy has a certain facility with words and arguments and like that. And some of his early poetry-like writing is something like poetry (if you like poetry that's isn't like poetry). But the guy behind it all is an absolute animal. I'm not going to make a big deal of it. I'm Brizoni, and I've spent so much time in foreign climes that I'm used to animals. Hell, I've been to Rio de Janeiro. Even the Boss seems civilized compared to what I do on a Saturday night in Rio. Where was I?

Oh. Dudgeon. Are we all going to sit still for these outrageous vagina jokes just because he's a fucking genius? I think not. It's unconscioniousable. Or whatever the word is. You'd have to be one of those perverts like the Boss even to pronounce it.

You see what I mean. If you know what I mean.

That didn't work out how I intended. Where the hell was I? Oh yeah. Birthers. Does any one of you Boss-worshipping tools know that a first-rate attorney named Andrew McCarthy (from the National Review) actually defended the Birthers, sort of? Sure you don't. You love the Boss. Who's really, really, incredibly, oh-so-unbelievably smart.

Like I always say. Right, Boss?

Monday, August 03, 2009

Are U Ready?

Through the wire, up the steps, and into the open air is The Blade.

Sorry about the computer glitches. They happen from time to time. But the lengthy discussion in the comments section was good. As a result, we have two new websites for you. Bad news: the Sci Fi website will probably have to be restarted, although we will capture all your comments as part of the 'Mission' and "Rules of Engagement' discussion. We're not very expert at the starting new blogs business, so please forgive us. As a consolation prize, we're soliciting better names for it than the one we thought of off the top of our pointy heads. There's already a big blog site with approximately the same name. Give us a better name, and we'll grant the winning entry full honors.

Good News: A new site we should have started a long time ago from the sound of your posts. A place to talk about everything without the heavy hand of InstaPunk and his minions in the way. You get to make to make up the rules about what goes there and what doesn't, except for the rules we've laid down limiting the influence of InstaPunk, LocoPunk, TruePunk, and CountryPunk. They're still allowed to visit and post, but only as equal participants, not as scolds or authoritarians. It's all explained at the new site, which is called:

Go take a look. Of course we'll still be doing our thing at InstaPunk, but our hope is that some of the topics you debate and discuss THERE will inspire us to do a better job HERE. All the instructions you need about how to become a poster at 'In the Metalkort' are contained in the first entry, which we delegated to the last real survivor of South Street. He dates back to the time of Zack, before there were punk demortals who thought they were so smart, and he never bought into the reign of Cadillac Mope, the fourth king of Punk City, whose hubris has so obviously set the tone here for so many years.

And, yes, we're dead serious. We want to hear your thoughts. About everything that interests you, no matter how slight or seditious. It's never been our intention to become our own echo chamber.We confidently expect you to spur us to better writing and more insightful thoughts.And we're always here, always awaiting your best ideas, always ready to engage when you are.

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