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WASHINGTON, D.C.--Senator Jim Bunning saw his impressive streak of heartless bastardry end at just over five days, a new legislative record, late Tuesday night. Since last Thursday, the Republican from Kentucky had single-handedly held up legislation that would extend unemployment benefits to millions of Americans. The streak was made even more remarkable by Bunning's age, and the fact that he did it for no obvious reason other than to be a colossal prick.

The exhausted congressman told reporters in the Senate locker room, "I think I even surprised myself for a while there," shortly before flipping the bird to each one of them individually.

"I think some of us questioned his stamina," said House Minority Leader John Boehner. "After all, Jim's no spring chicken. But to be that much of a cruel, insensitive jerkoff for that long...wow, I think I'd have trouble doing that."

The previous record of consecutive prickitude was held by President William Howard Taft, who refused to let relatives of victims of the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire bury their family members for four full days. "I shall not reward these insolent whelps for leaving their appointed posts before nine hours of work, fire or no fire," Taft said.

While Bunning's streak did not cause quite as much misery, it did last for a longer period of time and show a similarly callous disregard for human life. For the purposes of legislative records, a stretch of dickery can't simply be waged for mere personal reasons, such as greed or ambition. The pure assholery must have no seeming purpose except to promote suffering.

Before his career in public service, Bunning was a major league pitcher whose exploits on the mound earned him a plaque in Cooperstown. He was best known for pitching a perfect game in 1964, which he later credited to a lucky glove made of orphan skin and the tears of Vietnamese refugees.

Tim Tebow here, Heisman trophy winning quarterback and future NFL backup tight end. I want to use this extremely expensive chunk of Super Bowl commercial time to tell you an important story. Because I'm a giver.

The story goes like this: When my mother was pregnant with me, she was told by her doctors that she had a life-threatening health condition. Giving birth to me could have severely harmed her, even killed her. She was faced with a terrible, terrible choice no woman should ever have to make.

That's why I'm teaming up with Focus on the Family to make sure no woman has to make that choice again. No, not by helping to find cures for women's reproductive diseases, silly! I mean by banning abortion once and for all. Then, the choice will already be made for all women!

You see, life is precious, especially the life of an unborn child. It's more precious, in fact, than the life of the mother carrying that child, even if--nay, especially if--giving birth to that child will kill her. Why? Because of an incredibly complicated bit of celestial calculus. God's math is different from our earthly, sinful math. It is not up to us to judge God's math. Because unlike you and me, God doesn't have to show all his work.

Focus on the Family is an organization that does just that: we focus on the family. All families. We focus on every single detail of every single family. Where they work. How they raise their children. What TV shows they watch. Who they vote for. It's a big job, but somebody has to do it!

We also want to teach the families we focus on to pay that focus forward. By focusing on neighboring families, for instance. Scrutinizing them. Reporting suspicious families to the proper authorities. Of course, many of the family transgressions we want to focus on aren't illegal. But don't worry, we're focusing on fixing that, too.

We also know there are some untraditional "families" out there, too, headed by single parents and other heathens. We don't really consider them families, but don't worry, we are definitely focusing on them. And we encourage all of our members to focus on them, too. Long and hard, and harshly. Hopefully, your intense, unblinking focus can focus those people right out of your god-fearing town!

Finally, I want to thank CBS for having the courage to not bow to public pressure from liberals and other hell-bound folks, and show this ad. I also want to thank CBS for having to courage to bow to pressure from groups like Focus on the Family and not air that gay dating site ad.

So let me get this straight. Everyone's all bent out of shape because I haven't magically fixed the economy and gotten us out of Iraq in my first 12 months in office.

Are all of you people fucking retarded?

Hey, remember the last guy to hold this office? The one who ruined everything and wouldn't allow himself to be questioned? It took him eight years to dig the cesspit we're in now. It's gonna take more than one year to claw our way out of it.

You do know that, right? Or are all of you seriously retarded?

I don't know who's worse. I got professional douchenozzles like Glenn Beck and Sean Hannity who say shit about me that, in any other country, would get a person thrown in jail. Sometimes I wish I'd been president in some little banana republic. I'd have those assholes whipped in public, every day.

And then there's you whiny little bitches on the left. "Wah, he's not going fast enough! Wah, he's just like Bush!" Just like Bush?! That guy wiped his ass with the Constitution and couldn't put two coherent words together! Are you fucking people blind?!

Jesus H. Christ.

It just so happens I have a plan right here that will get us out of this recession. But it will take a few years, and clearly you people have no patience whatsoever. So how about ice cream for everyone! Hooray! Everyone gets a big bowl of ice cream! And when that runs out, I'll whip out a nice shiny object you can stare at! Happy days are here again! Zippa-dee-doo-fucking-da!

/folds arms

/shakes head slowly for seven minutes

I mean...

Christ Almighty.

Republican Scott Brown has triumphed in the Massachusetts Senate race, and Democrat Martha Coakley has failed. Among many factors in Coakley's defeat was her Red Sox-related gaffe last week, when she erroneously identified Curt Schilling as a Yankees fan. In the Bay State, where the Sawx are held much more sacred than any other institution, that was a huge mistake.

I don't know if anyone's choice of candidate was actually influenced by this specific misstep. By all accounts, she ran a spectacularly inept campaign. The Schilling goof was simply indicative of the laziness she exhibited throughout her Senate run, which was actually more of a sleepwalk.

But if anyone, in all seriousness, did not vote for her because she didn't know enough about the Red Sox, go get hit by garbage truck. And then catch on fire. And then get hit by a garbage truck on fire. I hate you so god damn much right now.

What's more important, folks: the fact that your Senator knows all about The Bloody Sock, or the fact that your Senator will send a death knell to any hope of reform and change for at least the next two years?

I love the Mets. I think about them and write about them and worry about them way beyond the point I should for something that has no direct bearing on my happiness and well being. One of the big reasons I've never liked Rudy Giuliani is because he's the epitome of the obnoxious, blowhard Yankee fan (being a crypto-fascist made it easy to hate him, too).

However, if there was a candidate who was exactly the same as Rudy in his fandom but the exact opposite politically, versus a guy who was a diehard Mets fan but Giuliani-esque in his world view, I'd vote for the Yankee fan in a second. BECAUSE SPORTS ARE DUMB GAMES AND POLITICS CAN FUCK YOUR LIFE UP FOR DECADES.

If nothing else, hopefully this incident wakes lefties out of the torpor that's set on them in record time. Yes, Obama hasn't done everything we wanted. Yes, he has been slow to act in certain respects (most infuriatingly, on gay rights). Yes, even before Brown's election, the health care reform bill was less than ideal. Yes, there are still mounds of problems in this country that have yet to even plateau.

But if I may return to baseball for a minute, you almost have to think of Obama in 2010 as Jackie Robinson in 1947. There are too many people for whom the mere idea of a black man being in the national spotlight is too much to bear. Obama can't be as aggressive or fiery as some people would like, because there's too many people waiting for him to lose his temper, do something rash, and fail his way out of the Oval Office.

Like when Joe Wilson yelled LIAR at him during a Congressional address. Why did Wilson do that--because he's a nut? Yes, but also because he hoped Obama would fly off the handle and yell at him, thus alienating half the country ready to think of him as a Scary Black Man. So even though Wilson thoroughly deserved to be punched in the mouth, Obama kept his cool because that was ultimately more important than the immediate desire for retribution.

Obama needs to weather the storm of his first few years and prove to The Haters that he knows what he's doing and that him being in power isn't the nightmare they think it is (or want it to be). It's totally unfair, but it wouldn't be the first time a black man had to work harder than his white counterparts just gain some respect. And after this "trial period", like Robinson, he can start fighting back against the Ben Chapmans of the world and slide in spikes up.

Ask yourself this: Looking at the Sarah Palins and the Glenn Becks and the Bill O'Reillys (a fascist Mets fan) of the world--who are clearly at the vanguard of the Republican party--do you really think there's no difference between Dems and the GOP? I'm not the biggest fan of the two-party system. But for right now, today, what's our best hope for rising out of the shit eight years of Bush dumped us in--Obama's slower-than-you'd-like agenda, or the Republicans' obstructionist paleoconservative nihilistic non-agenda?

Oh, and Curt Schilling? Go get fucked sideways with rusty rake.

I've heard that Tiger Woods is a Buddhist. Perhaps if he converted to Christianity, he could find the redemption he so desperately needs.

You see, Buddhism can not offer forgiveness for one's sins because Buddhists do not believe in sin. Only Christianity can offer Woods the condemnation of a vengeful god which requires penance. A true state of grace can only be achieved after going through the heavenly gifts of guilt and misery.

I was once like Tiger, minus the billions of dollars and legions of eager groupies. Then I gave my life over to Christ, and became the joyous, love-filled man you see before you today.

I want to make this clear: Tiger is free to practice whatever religion he so chooses. That's one of the many wonderful rights we enjoy as Americans. I simply believe he should consider changing that religion if he doesn't want to burn for all eternity in the unquenchable fires of Hell.

Tiger's wife and children may be disappointed with him, but he needs to get on his hands and knees and beg forgiveness from Jesus Christ, because that's who he has truly wronged. You see, a man does not truly own his ding-dong. He simply borrows it from The Lord. And when you do terrible things with that ding-dong, Jesus is unhappy.

Think of your male organ as a rental car. It should be returned to its maker in the same condition as when it was given to you, with a full tank of gas.

As for those of you with lady parts, The Lord does not want you to think about them in any way, shape, or form.

I also read somewhere that Buddhists don't believe in shoes, which just seems weird to me. Then again, Tiger usually wears cleats on the links, so obviously it's a religion with some wiggle room.

Ultimately, this is a journey that only Tiger can make. However, the greatest gift Jesus gave us was the power of forgiveness. So no matter where that journey takes Tiger, as a Christian I forgive him for his transgressions, and for following a dumb religion that makes no sense and is wrong.

People always ask me, "Joe, after you've cozied up with insurance bigwigs and blocked health care reform for no reason but to grab the national spotlight and stroke your own ego, how can you sleep at night?"

The answer is, Like a baby! Now that I have Noregretifan, that is!

Nogretifan is not an ordinary sleeping pill, and it's not for everyone. Because Noregretifan is designed specifically for people like me. People who've done, horrible, unforgiveable things in their lives, yet still want a good night's sleep!

Just listen to these testimonials!

I had a terrible time getting rest after I hid my mother's death from the authorities so I could continue cashing her Social Security checks! Noregretifan took care of that! If only Nogretifan could take care of that terrible smell from my attic! -- Bill S., Des Moines, IA

I hit a midlife crisis and left my wife and kids for some skank half my age. You wouldn't think I could get any shut-eye at all. But I can, thanks to Noregretifan! -- Mark D., Vallejo, CA

I know a man like me doesn't deserve to sleep at night. Hell, I laid off half my staff last year and still pulled in a big Christmas bonus! Luckily, Noregretifan helps me keep my nightly date with The Sandman!  -- Allan W., New York

How does Noregretifan work? Is it addictive? Does it have any side effects? I don't know, and I don't want to know! I have enough things on my mind as it is! All I know is, it keeps those nasty voices out of my brain when my head hits the pillow. You know, all those voices that tell me I'm doing something really selfish and petty that could lead to the impoverishment and death of millions of my fellow Americans!

Whether you're a legislator with a Napoleon complex, a tionhorn tyrant, or just your average workaday sociopath, ask your doctor about Noregretifan! If you're one of the dwindling number of Americans who can afford go to the doctor, that is!

Ms. Speaker, before we vote on this potentially historic health care reform bill, I want you to hear from Maddie. Maddie is the seven-month-old daughter of my chief of staff. Maddie loves freedom, and Maddie thinks the passage of this bill will speed our great nation down the thorny path to socialism. Say hello to the nice congresspersons, Maddie!

Boy, what a buncha losers!

Oh, come on now, Maddie! These are all my distinguished colleagues from various states of our great nation, and they've come here to debate the health care reform bill.

No wonder! They all look pretty sick to me!

There you go again, Maddie! What are we going to do with you? Weren't you just telling me in my office how much you love freedom, and how scared you are that this bill will endanger that precious freedom that so many Americans have laid down their lives to protect?

Were those Americans killed by your breath? Cuz it's pretty brutal right now!

Maddie, stop, please! I'm trying to discuss something very serious, and all you want to do is clown around!

Clowning around? I don't even know what a clown is--my brain's the size of an orange and I think plastic keys are the most entertaining thing ever invented!

Oh, Maddie! Well, that's all the time I have. Thank you, fellow representatives! Stay tuned for funnyman Dennis Kucinich!

Do you remember that simpler time in America? Do you remember how that felt? Do you remember this commercial?


Yes, there was a time when tow-headed young boys could give Cokes to famous defensive linemen. And the linemen would give the children sweaty souvenirs! When was the last time you saw that in Obama's America? What has happened to our nation? Or how about this, do you remember this?


We were all Peppers back then! No one saw color! It didn't matter if you were a boatin' Pepper, a totin' Pepper, a cookin' Pepper, or a good lookin' Pepper! It didn't even matter if you were Popeye! We all danced on the deck of a Staten Island Ferry boat! Only when I look at ads like this do I realize how much we've lost! Still not convinced? How about this, do you remember this?

There have been a lot of untruths out there about my health care plan. So I want to reassure the American people that illegal immigrants will not be covered under this plan.
YOU LIE!
No, I don't actually. And I think it's highly disrespectful of you to just yell at the President of the United States like that. If you disagree with me, fine, but...
YOU'RE NOT FUNNY!
I'm not trying to be funny. This is not a comedy club.
FREEBIRD!
Wow, there's a blast from the past. When you're done with that brilliant retort, 1993 needs it back. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm trying to deliver a speech here.
YOU SHOULD DELIVER MY WAITRESS OVER HERE SO I CAN GET ANOTHER GIN AND TONIC!
You'll have to speak up. I don't speak Inbred Cracker Peckerwood.

Your email has been selected from over 30 million entries to attend the Ted Kennedy funeral. Congratulations! We appreciate your support in this sad and historic hour as we pay tribute to The King of Pop(ulist Causes)!

The ceremony is scheduled to begin at 11 am. However, because we anticipate enormous crowds, we suggest you arrive at the TD Garden at least two hours earlier. While you queue up to enter, you will pass by some historic Kennedy memorabilia, such as notes from his work on the Voting Rights Act of 1965, and the sequined glove he wore when he was first sworn in as a Senator in 1962.

Seating is available on a first-come-first-serve basis. Ticket holders who can not be accommodated at the Garden will be directed to Fenway Park, where the service will be simulcast on the Jumbotron.

Performers scheduled to appear include Kanye West, Diana Ross, Paul McCartney, and Capitol Steps, plus a very special duet with Whitney Houston and Sen. Dianne Feinstein. There will also be tributes to the late senator from Brooke Shields, Elizabeth Taylor, and Ann Wagner, United States ambassador to the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg.

Photography or videotaping of any kind is prohibited. If you want a lasting memento of this event, we suggest pre-ordering the DVD "Ted Kennedy: America Says Farewell", which will be on sale at all Borders, Barnes and Nobles, and Whole Foods locations on September 15.

Welcome back to the show. Listen, I think I need to clarify some remarks I made. For some reason, some people get all bent out of shape when you mention Adolf Hitler.

Look: I'm not saying that Barack Obama is exactly like Adolf Hitler. That would be insane! I just think he does certain things that resemble things Hitler also did. They both eat. Are you aware of that? You won't hear the liberal media talk about that, but it's true!

And how about the logo for Obama's health care plan? It looks almost swastika-esque, in my opinion.

Not overtly, of course. No one would come right out and make a logo that looks like a swastika--not even the O-bum-a administration. No, they're too subtle and sneaky for that. You have to stare at this thing for a while before it becomes apparent. Really stare at it. For like, five hours. Then smack yourself upside the head and pop three Vicodin. And throw some salt in your eyes.

It's amazing, isn't it? The Obamas make me jump through all these hoops so I can see their Nazi imagery. I have to sit around and do all this work, just to it will resemble something evil. Is there anything they won't stoop to?

Know what else I've been noticing? Nancy Pelosi looks an awful lot like Joseph Goebbels. Again, this is not something you would notice at first glance. Or second. Or third, or tenth, or seven hundred and twenty-fifth. It takes a truly keen intellect like mine, with the mental stamina to squint at the same thing for several hours without blinking. And to do so after ingesting a fistful of Percocet.

Not to mention, this golden microphone that I use, it looks a lot like the torch wielded by the runner in Leni Riefenstahl's Olympia. Maybe this is the same torch hoisted in that film. Yes! I am sure of it!

And the receiver of this phone, it looks just like the talons of a fierce Nazi creature called the Jar-Lock! Half-man, half-animal, and 100 percent killing machine! Hitler bred it especially to spread the foul stench of socialized medicine! It haunts my dreams! Sometimes Jar-Lock tries to attack me in broad daylight, emerging from the shadows and returning there just as quickly! You may not have heard of this beast, because it might only exist in my head!

And when I stare in the mirror for a really long time, I can convince myself that my greasy, slicked-back hair actually looks presentable, instead of making me look like a 400-pound Gordon Gekko.

And when I see the fine layer of gelatinous sweat that limns my forehead, it looks to me like something women might find attractive, rather than the sign of a morbidly obese land monster who gets winded while chewing.

Coming up on the program, I'll slam a few OxyContin, choke back the self loathing churning in my stomach, and find several new ways to shoehorn the phrase "anal poisoning" into my rant!

Excuse me, I'd like to enter this presidential town hall meeting. What seems to be the hold up?

Whoah, since when am I not allowed to bring a weapon into a town hall meeting? Last time I checked, this was still America!

Yes, I do have multiple weapons on me. I can't just walk in here with just one! A single handgun might be good enough for Sunday mass or my son's soccer game, but this is a town hall meeting we're talking about here!

I don't know how you could interpret this array of weaponry as some sort of threat to the president. All I want to do is brandish several firearms well within firing range of our commander-in-chief. Since when is that a crime?!

The Constitution protects might right to free speech, and the Constitution protects my right to bear arms. Therefore, it protects my right to exercise both of those rights simultaneously. I came hear to have my voice heard. And I find people pay closer attention to me when I'm heavily armed.

This canister? It contains homemade napalm. Nothing beats homemade, I always say. People are so desensitized to guns these days, what with all the violent movies and TV shows and so on. Sometimes you need access to jellied incendiaries that can melt a man's face off. You know, to really get your point across.

You're looking at me as if I'm some kind of a crackpot! All I want to do is attend this presidential town hall meeting and express my concerns about the national health care plan. And also ask the president how he bribed the Kenyan government to hide his real birth certificate.

Is it me? Am I the crazy one here? Because I really don't understand why you'd be so concerned about me bringing several assault rifles, napalm, and a catapult to this town hall meeting where the president will also be in attendance.

Yes, I have a catapult. Don't tell me I can't bring that in, either!

Fine, I'll leave. But I'd appreciate it if you'd hand the president this weirdly shaped envelope leaking white powder.

CAVE-IN-ROCK, ILLINOIS--Death Panel, a heavy metal band from southern Illinois, announced it is suing former governor of Alaska and vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin for invoking their name during her recent comments about national health care.

"She said our name, Death Panel. It's copyright infringement, probably," said lead singer/rhythm guitarist Shawn Mackin from the parking lot of the 7-11 where he works after school.

"I totally mailed all of our lyrics and stuff to myself months ago," Mackin said. "That shit is postmarked. Case closed."

Mackin then wondered where his mom was to pick him, since she should have been here, like, ten fuckin' minutes ago.

"It's like, she's takin' our name, right?" said drummer Dave Carlin between sucks on a Slurpee straw. "It's like, fuckin', c'mon."

Mackin added, "You should hear this dude on the double kicks. Sick."

Asked for the specifics of their lawsuit, Carlin said he had a cousin in law school. "He's not a lawyer yet, but he knows enough law shit to get this done." Carlin would totally call him up when he got home, 'cause he's probably got his phone number somewhere.

Asked if he believed President Obama's health care plan would employ so-called "death panels," Mackin replied, "I hope so. That sounds fuckin' bad ass."

Mackin described Death Panel as a "totally balls to the wall" group whose main influences are Slayer, Lamb of God, and Kill 'Em All-era Metallica. "None of that Black Album horseshit." He said the band's self-produced five-song demo CD "will fuckin' slay fake metal".

Added bassist/backup vocalist Todd Herman, "Fuckin' A."

The debate rages--RAGES!--on about President Obama's place of birth. Obama insists he was born in the US, and government officials in his supposed native state of Hawaii and elsewhere say they've seen his birth certificate and it's valid. But since I haven't seen it right in front of me, with my own eyes, I say this issue is still up for debate.

You know what else is up for debate? Mummies. Scientists say they don't exist. But I've seen 'em in movies. Like The Mummy, and The Mummy Returns, and The Bad News Mummies in Breaking Training. Who am I supposed to believe--scientists or my own eyes? And if mummies don't exist, why do I wet the bed every night because I dream I'm being chased by one?

Scientists also tell us that there's something called The Air that supplies us with oxygen. Well, I ain't never seen it! Prove it to me, Poindexter! Show me air in a box, then we'll talk! And don't feed me no jazz about the wind. Everyone knows the wind is god sneezing.

And what about my penis? My doctor tells me I still have one, technically, but I haven't seen the damn thing for years. I know what you're thinking: "Lou, how do you pee without one?" I don't know!

Coming up on the Lou Dobbs program starring Lou Dobbs: Should all Mexicans be killed, or merely imprisoned?

Ms. Sotomayor, I appreciate that you rose from humble origins, but some statements you've made over the years about your ethnic background lead me to believe you might let your identity cloud your judgment.
Senator Graham, I don't think simply recognizing one's identity necessarily clouds one's judgment. Every person alive has an identity, and they are constantly influenced by that identity.
Not Michael Knight.
Who?
Michael Knight, of TV's Knight Rider.
Knight Rider?
Ms. Sototmayor, are you telling me that you want to be a Supreme Court justice and yet you are unfamiliar with Knight Rider?
I remember the program, but I can't say I saw it more than once or twice.
If you'll recall, Michael Knight was, in the words of the opening credits, "a man who does not exist".
So you want a Supreme Court justice to be like David Hasselhoff?
No, I want you to be more like Michael Knight! I thought I made that clear! Michael Knight had no identity. And yet, he was a one-man crime-fighting machine! An engine of justice, if you will.

When I heard Barack Obama was going to throw out the first pitch at the All Star Game, I figured the right-wing blogosphere and radio world would find something wrong with it. Whether he threw a perfect strike over the plate or an eephus pitch into the first base stands, it would be judged as something evil because, well, why not?

Such an event marks one of the neocons' few chances to attack a guy whose biggest crime is being treated like a rock star everywhere he goes. These are the same guys who rah-rah-ed for torture for eight years and helped send American troops to die in Iraq on a total lie. But a photogenic, popular president? That shall not stand!

Even by the low standards I hold them to, however, one ASG-related screed really stood out like an unhinged door. It was penned by Andy McCarthy (not the co-star of Weekend at Bernie's) and featured at National Review's The Corner. The site is aptly named; it's a lot like a corner near a bus station, overrun with raving lunatics.

You know The Crazy will be brought in abundance when this is the first line of the post:

Though it's not a widely appreciated fact, we right-winger sports nuts have long known that the sports press is among the media's leftiest precincts.

Yeah, I'm sick of Joe Buck all those pro-socialized medicine diatribes he throws into the Fox Game of the Week. I don't think Sunday Night Football is an appropriate venue for John Madden to praise Hugo Chavez. And I won't watch College Gameday anymore, not after Lee Corso turned it into a soapbox for his Tax the Churches movement!

In what universe is sports media a bastion of effete left-wing intellectuals? Can you name one Sports Guy other than Keith Olbermann who is even rumored to be a lefty? Sports news rarely intersects with political news, and when it does, sports networks like ESPN tend to stay centrist so they don't alienate anyone. Because sports are seen by most people as an "escape" from the real world. Regardless of political affiliation, folks don't like it when nasty things like partisan squabbling find their way onto SportsCenter.

And what of sports radio, Mr. McCarthy? The only difference between Rush Limbaugh's audience and Mike Francesa's audience is the frequency they tune into. You should've heard some of the people calling into Francesa in the weeks leading up to the presidential election. Listening to them, you would've thought 90 percent of the electorate was gonna vote for McCain.

And this is in the Tri-State Area, solid blue state territory if there is one. I can't even imagine what sports radio is like in, say, St. Louis, where a shot of Dubya in the ASG pregame ceremony resulted in rapturous applause.

McCarthy's biggest gripe is that ESPN "covered up" Obama being booed at the All Star Game. God help me for defending ESPN, but it's not ESPN's job to discuss the political ramifications of Obama's appearance at the All Star Game. That's for political analysts. And I guess paranoid hacks like you can throw their two cents in as well. Just remember to put your tinfoil hat on first, so the secret Illuminati satellites can't beam pro-gay-rights messages into your brain!

I also don't recall ESPN making a big deal of Dick Cheney getting the living shit booed out of him when he threw out the first pitch for the Nationals a few years ago. So at least ESPN is bipartisan in its cover-ups.

McCarthy insists his "six-year-old throws a baseball better (far better, in fact) than Obama." Then get that kid to declare for the MLB draft, because Obama's pitch wasn't that bad. His lefty delivery didn't draw any comparisons to Johan Santana, of course, but McCarthy's lengthy descriptions of its failings are just flat-out lies (or self delusion), as MLB's video of the event will attest.

He hates the fact that Obama threw the ball to Albert Pujols instead of Yadier Molina, because he only did it to keep the crowd from booing! There could be no other reason, except maybe honoring an amazing player who's having a potentially historic season. And he only embraced Cardinal great Stan Musial to thwart a jeering crowd! Or maybe it's because Stan Musial is a living legend and one of the best hitters ever.

No, it can't be! It was all a ruse to keep the crowd on his side! Just like his decision to wear a White Sox jacket, because..wait, St. Louis fans hate Chicago! And despite his nefarious gambits, the crowd booed (mildly) anyway. Can you follow this train of thought? No? Me either.

Look at this screengrab. I don't even see a baseball! He didn't throw anything! And all you sheep are falling for it! We're through the looking glass here, people.

McCarthy's attempt to pull secret codes from benign actions should come at no surprise. Neocons always get hung up on the nonsense of stagecraft, at the expense of examining things that truly matter. You know, stuff that leaders actually do.

For example, neocons think one of the greatest things Dubya ever did was throw out the first pitch at Yankee Stadium during the 2001 World Series. It represented a Display of Strength and Resolve after 9/11! It showed he would not be cowed by those nasty terrorists! It showed he would never stop! And he never stopped!

Except when it came to finding the man responsible for the World Trade Center attack. He stopped well short of accomplishing that mission. But hey, he threw a perfect strike to Derek Jeter! That's almost like bringing Osama bin Laden to justice, right?

Ironic, then, that McCarthy denounces Obama's appearance as "shrewdly orchestrated", since McCarthy's recently departed Dear Leader shrewdly orchestrated every appearance he ever made. At least Obama doesn't shrewdly orchestrate his press conferences. Or the bullshit intelligence he feeds to the CIA. Or ways to keep Congress in the dark about secret CIA operations.

The tweeting of James Urbaniak (aka Dr. Venture) alerted me to this tweet from the soon-to-be-ex-governor of Alaska. For the full effect, I think you need to see how this tweet looks all by itself, standing alone in all its glory.

Yes, the work ethic is certainly there in Alaska. Ain't no quitters in Alaska! Except for maybe one repeat offender.

There are amoebas with more self-awareness than this broad. The only three things in this creep's universe are Me, Myself, and I. She'd plunge herself into a pool of toxic waste if it got her three extra minutes of news coverage.

And just take a look at that wallpaper. Somewhere there is a "Footprints" poster with no background. I think that scene comes from Microsoft Clip Art; search for "Decorative Plate".

If you really want a scare, read Todd Purdum's Vanity Fair article on this monster, and think about how close we came to her being one heartbeat away from the presidency. We dodged a bullet, folks. A proudly ignorant, narcissistic, sociopathic bullet.

I'm struggling to find the right words to express how I feel about my resignation. Because words have never really been my friends. You know who likes words? The liberal media elite. They've always been big on words and sentences and paragraphs. They'll never understand the solid American people that I know, people who talk to each other with handshakes, or grunts, or a series of shrugs and punches.

But if I have to use words, let me use the kind of words that real American people understand: sports words!

A lot of people wonder why I'm resigning. Well, just imagine you're a point guard. And by "you", I mean "me".  You're naïve if you don't see the national full-court press coming right at you. A good point guard drives through a full court press, protecting the ball, keeping her eye on the basket, and she knows exactly when to pass the ball so that the team can win. I know when it's time to pass the ball--for victory!

Granted, a point guard usually helps her team by passing the ball and staying in the game, instead of taking the ball and going home. My point is, by resigning, I'm keeping my eye on the ball that represents sound priorities: smaller government, energy independence, national security, freedom! And also, America, and flags, and freedom.

I don't know if I'm really getting my point across. Let's extend this idea. Imagine you're an awesome, all-world point guard for a terrible team in some podunk town. The kind of place where the only exports are moose meat and meth. You know you could do some great things for a team in a big, flashy city where you can shop til you drop and have cosmos with the girls every night. If only you could get out of that rotten one-horse town!

Plus, you've been bitching about this horrible team and its ass-backwards city for a while, and all of the brain dead hicks who used to love you and begged your team to draft you suddenly think you're a total diva who might have mental problems. So your value drops the longer stick around in this god-forsaken place.

Does this sound like a fair scenario for an all-star fox like me? No, of course not! The world should be this point guard's oyster--literally! I mean, what's a promising young Republican point guard to do?

You do what I do: say you're gonna retire from point guarding. That way, the nasty liberal media stops doing its full court press, and after you've been away for a while, all those hockey moms and Nascar dads will remember why they liked you in the first place. And you get to play for any city you like! Even President City, god willing!

In conclusion, my still-fellow Alaskans, don't think of this as me resigning. Think of this as me looking for a new free agent contract that reflects my true level of talent. In my heart, I'll always belong to Alaska. You know, like how LeBron James will always belong to Cleveland, even though we all know he'll wind up on the Knicks sooner or later.

Where have I been? Out. I went out.

I was gone for four days? No, I don't think so. No, I'm pretty sure I was just out for the afternoon.

Today's Wednesday? Really? Yeah, I guess I was gone for four days. Boy, time flies when you're...well, you know.

Where did I go? Hiking. Took a little hike. You know how I love to hike, honey. Can't get enough of that hiking.

What's this? A duty free bag. They got some great stuff in them stores. I got a hundred Kit Kats for, like, five bucks.

Yeah, I was at the airport. Why?

Oh, I see. My staff told you I was on the Appalachian Trail. That's where the whole misunderstanding comes from. See, they have code phrases they use so no one else can figure out where I am. So when they said I was "hiking on the Appalachian Trail", what they meant was I was on a very important diplomatic mission to...France. Qatar. Argentina-land.

I meant Argentina! See, sometimes we use "France" and "Qatar" as, um, alternating code words for "Buenos Aires". See, I'm getting myself all mixed up now!

I know I said I was hiking. That was because of the hiking code word, so I got that all mixed up with...you know, I'm so confused from the trip and the jet lag and the secret code words and whatnot, I think I'm gonna turn in early tonight...

What was I doing in Buenos Aires? Oooh, that's a good question. It was a diplomatic mission, honey. You know how those are. Just trying to get the Argentinians to be more, um, diplomatic. Can't say too much about it, though. Pretty hush hush, you see.

Why was I on a diplomatic mission for the current president, who I don't like very much? Boy, that's another good question. You are just full of them today! Well, honey, some things are bigger than partisan politics. And I would love to tell what those things are, I really would! But I am just so bushed from my flight, I think I'll just go hit the hay right now! *yawn*

Why was this trip such a big secret? It wasn't a secret, honey! Sure, I left for several days and didn't tell you or anyone else where I was going, but that doesn't make it a secret!

Okay, fine, that does make it a secret. Technically. We're not gonna argue semantics, are we? Because I could do the same thing back to you! What does the word "secret" mean, huh? Think about it!

Jeez! Can't the executive of a state of the union go completely off the grid for a long weekend to commit certain unnamed deeds without it being a huge deal?

Tell you what. Why don't you fix me a scotch and we'll go watch Jon and Kate Plus 8 on Tivo. Sound like a plan? Great.

Oh, and honey? If you ever tell the press you don't know where I am again, you're gonna wind up with a pair of cement shoes. Got it?

Good. Thanks, sweetie! Still waiting on that scotch!

Hello, Americans, it's your veep. After my ground-breaking announcement on swine flu last week, President Obama decided he wanted me right in the thick of the fight against pandemics. That's why I'm here in North Dakota, counting buffalo herds.

Actually, now that I say those words out loud, it doesn't make too much sense. Shouldn't I be in some Mexican bordertown? Or maybe in Arkansas inspecting pigs, instead of buffalo? This assignment seemed a lot less ridiculous when Barry told me about it a couple of days ago. If nothing else, I could be back in Washington, giving the president some more of my valuable advice.

Anyways, now that I finally found a spot where my Blackberry works, I wanna give the people my take on this whole swine flu thing. Because there's a lot of misinformation going around, and if there's one thing I know, it's how to calm down hysterical masses.

First off, you cannot get swine flu from eating bacon. That's just preposterous. Unless the bacon was prepared by someone who had swine flu. Then it's a distinct possibility. Especially if the guy cut his finger while slicing it up. In that case, swine flu is the least of your problems, believe me!

Of course, FDA regulations would require such meat to be discarded, so it's not likely that bacon would ever make it to market. Unless it came from some slipshod operation whose owner bribed local authorities to look the other way. Then yeah, that could totally happen.

I know what you're thinking: How many meat processing plants are actually like that, really? I mean, this is America, right? The answer is, hundreds. Maybe thousands. You don't even want to know.

I've seen some people wearing surgical masks in the street, and I want to assure you that these are completely unnecessary. Do you know how tiny a flu virus is? You might as well try to catch a bumblebee with a fishnet. If that little germ wants to get in your mouth, a mess of cloth and a rubber band ain't gonna stop it, believe me. No point in catching a debilitating illness and looking ridiculous at the same time.

The important thing is, if you suspect you have swine flu--even the slightest bit, based on the slimmest piece of evidence--get yourself to a hospital ER immediately. Just get in the car and floor it. Do not obey any traffic signs. Run red lights. If you come to a police barricade, plow right through it.

Once you get to the ER, if you can't see a doctor right away, just scream a lot. That should speed you towards the front of the line.

I want to assure the American people that we will get through this. Our best scientists are working around the clock on a flu vaccine, and once they find it, we'll all be out of the woods.

That is, until the flu virus evolves an immunity to this vaccine and comes back stronger and deadlier six months from now. Which will totally happen. Because a virus' life cycle is so tiny that they can go through a million generations in just a few short months. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if those little bastards were making crude hand-tools and wielding fire in a few years. Then we're all in some serious trouble!

But at least six months gives us all enough time to accept our fates and make our peace with our respective gods.

I apologize for yesterday's Air Force One flyover in lower Manhattan. I should have realized this would frighten people still emotionally scarred from 9/11. We should not have done it, or at the very least let people know what was happening so they wouldn't be so terrified when a huge plane flew dangerously low to the city's skyline. So again, I apologize.

In the wake of this event, I've decided to change the details of my upcoming tour of the new federal building in Oklahoma City. To celebrate the memory of all the brave citizens who lost their lives there, I thought I might arrive dressed in army fatigues and waving around a copy of The Turner Diaries. But now this seems kind of insensitive, more like the exact opposite of what I'd want to do in that city.

So the whole army fatigue/paranoid, racist literature thing is right out, I promise.

I've also canceled the music act for my next appearance in New Orleans. Suddenly, Katrina and the Waves doesn't seem like the wisest band choice. I apologize to those of you who looked forward to hearing "Walking on Sunshine."

I will still campaign door-to-door for Democratic candidates this year. However, I will probably not do so after midnight while wielding a rusty chainsaw and wearing a hockey mask.

In conclusion, I'd like to promise the American people that I will never OH MY GOD, THERE'S A GUY WITH AN AXE RIGHT BEHIND YOU!!

Hey, thanks for lettin me crash at your place, guys. I'm goin through a really rough patch with my old lady and you saved my bacon. You guys really did me a solid, and I won't forget it, man.

And no worries about the whole 'bein gay' thing. You do your thing, I do my thing, we'll all be cool, okay? Live and let live, that is my mot-to.

'Course, in a coupla years, I'm gonna be runnin for higher office. Maybe senator, maybe governor--who knows, maybe even La Casa Blanca, know what I'm sayin, bro?

Point is, I'm a Republican and all, so I gotta play the game. You know how it is. Hey, look I'm talkin to--you guys probably gotta pretend to be all not-gay just to keep your jobs!

Anywhoozle, I'm just lettin ya know I gotta say some shit that might rub ya the wrong way. Not for real, of course--just stuff that'll play in the sticks, you know? Like, I gotta say I "hate" gay marriage and that hetero marriage is a "sacred institution".

Man, I gotta practice sayin that--I can barely get the words out without crackin up! I mean, I been married three times already and cheated on my last old lady. And I wasn't discrete about it either. I kinda did it really, really publicly. All the time.

Oh, and I used city money to go visit my girlfriend while I was still married. Hey, nobody's perfect, bro.

But don't worry, it's just gonna be shit I say to climb the ladder, know what I'm sayin? Once I'm in office...well, then I probably gotta pass some laws against gay marriage it because I'll totally be indebted to the guys who got me elected on that platform.

Don't you worry, though--that civil union thing, totally safe. No one's touchin that on my watch! Unless they pressure me to repeal that, too. Then all bets are off, know what I'm sayin?

But hey, just wanna letcha know, even if I strip away all your rights and keep you from being with the one you love, just know this: I don't really mean it.

So we're still cool, right?

Seriously? We're still cool? Awesome. I knew I could count on you guys.

You guys got matches? I'm gotta use the little boys' room and I plan on cuttin mud for 25 minutes minimum.

I'm sick of all this criticism of the charts and graphs in the Republican budget plan. I thought the liberal media would be able to recognize the aesthetic reality we were going for. But obviously, I have to explain myself to you philistines.

Unlike the President, Republicans have no interest in the showy maximalism of Shepherd Fairey. The pop culture references, the retro-Soviet imagery, the cold, angular typefaces--ugh, it makes me cringe!

Have you read the President's budget? It's incomprehensible! What font did he use for this thing? I wouldn't be surprised to see overlapping type in here, like some horrible early 90s music rag. I thought we were all over David Carson, but I guess some of us aren't!

No, Republicans harken back to the sleek minimalism of Milton Glaser. Like "I Heart NY", one of the most successful ad campaigns of all time. That art was such a perfect synthesis of simplicity and complication, it almost quelled the burning hatred I have for New York and all its out-of-touch liberal elites. And its hopelessly navel-gazing art world.

Is our art simple? I would ask, Is a line simple? It depends on where the line comes from, and where it leads to. A line means nothing, but a line means everything. I would think you would all know that by now.

I shouldn't have to explain the Republican budget plan to you people. It should stand on its own, and if you had even the most rudimentary grounding in art and graphic design, you would know that!

God, I haven't been this mad since I went to the last Matthew Barney exhibit!

Mr. President, Chuck Todd, NBC News. Some have compared this financial crisis to a war, and in times of war, past presidents have called for some form of sacrifice. Why, given this new era of responsibility that you're asking for, why haven't you asked for something specific that the public should be sacrificing to participate in this economic recovery?
Chuck, I think Americans are sacrificing a lot right now, doing a lot of belt tightening to get through this rough patch...
No, that's simply not good enough. I think you should demand that the American people sacrifice something very specific.
I don't really understand what you're getting at.
I want you to ask Americans to stop eating hot dogs.
Why?
I think they're gross.
I won't ask Americans to forego hot dogs just because you don't like them, Chuck.
What about kielbasa? Certainly Americans should quit their wanton consumption of kielbasa in such a financial environment.
I don't think a reduction of kielbasa purchases will help our economy one bit
What about those weird mini-pepperoni things? You know, like you see next to the cash register at all-night delis? Yeesh, those things creep me out, glistening in their plastic tubes under the fluorescent light. Ick!
What do those things cost, like, a buck? That's not gonna break anyone's budget.
Is there any type of sausage product you'd like Americans to give up for the duration of this economic crisis?
That kind of decision should be made by each individual family. It's not the president's job to tell the American people what processed foods they can and can't eat.
Baloney!
Excuse me? Do you think you know more about the executive branch than I do?!
No, I mean baloney! We can get rid of that, right?
Chuck, if you have issues with luncheon meat, work those out on your own time. Other people at this press conference have questions.
Sure, I understand..oh wait, this just in! The National Science-y Institute says the nation's supply of Slim Jims is contaminated with Melting Brain Disease! Guess you'll have to ban those, huh?
No, I'm banning you from presidential press conferences. For three years.
Do you know who you're talking to? I did those stupid electoral maps all night on MSNBC on Election Day! I MADE YOU, BARRY!

So you gaffed. Big deal. I do it all the time! I gaffe more before breakfast than most people do all day.

Here's what you do. I call it the "aw shucks" defense. You just say stuff like, "aw jeez, I'm sorry!" like you're a big dumb galoot who can't even control what comes out of his mouth. Works for me all the time! It makes you sympathetic. By the time I've done, I got the president of Bolivia apologizing to me, even though I just called his country a hellish sinkhole.

Then again, I guess you have a reputation as a smart man and a skilled orator. I've never had that problem. So maybe that strategy won't work for you.

It was a good idea to gaffe on a Thursday night, though. That way, they roast you on Friday, but the weekend's about to start. By the time Monday comes all the news outlets are on to the next thing.

Me, I try to save my really big gaffes for Friday afternoons. The newspapers are already knocking off for the day by then. I spit out something really stupid around 3:30, then I can spend Saturday on the links, free of worry.

Also, March Madness--excellent time to gaffe. Nobody's watching CNN or Fox News right now. Not while they're keeping track of their brackets. I also find Super Bowl week is a good gaffing time, as is pretty much any day from late June through Labor Day.

Would it help if I made an even bigger gaffe to take the heat off you? I got a speech scheduled for a Mothers Against Drunk Driving event later today. How bout I make some real dumb old-timey Foster Brooks-type jokes about tippling? Or if I accidentally ask a mom to bring her kid on stage, even though I know her son was killed by a drunk driver?

No matter what you do, make sure you apologize. Better late than never, I say. And if you do wait a few days to apologize, you can just say you were doing it on Colored People's Time.

Oh jeez, I can't believe I said that! Oh man! I am so sorry!

See? Learn from the master, kid.

Joe the Plumber's Slap-a-Rep, Joe the Plumber speaking. How may I help you?

Dianne Feinstein? Okay. What's your reason for wanting to slap her?

She bad mouthed the troops? Could you cite a specific example of her doing that?

Nah, I'm just pulling your chain. That sounds like something she'd do. Your word is good enough for me.

Would you like to request a certain type of slap? We offer Victorian duel, pimp, naughty child, and my patented slap, the Ass-Reddener.

Okay, I'll put you down for Victrorian duel. A very popular choice. Any other Congressmen you'd like me to slap?

Ted Kennedy? He's recovering from a stroke, from what I understand. So I'm afraid I'll need a note from his doctor that indicates a clean bill of health before I can slap him. Sorry, but we have to cover our bases. Insurance and all that. I'm sure you'll understand.

Harry Reid? No problem. Shall I put you down for another Victorian duel, or would like to upgrade to a double-slap? For ten extra bucks, you get two slap styles of your choice.

You want me to shoot Harry Reid? No, we don't do that here at Slap-a-Rep. We only slap.

Yes, I know I mentioned shooting lawmakers in my press conference. However, I was only speaking about historical precedent. You know, back in the old days, when citizens were allowed to shoot politicians.

Sure, it used to happen all the time. Totally legal. In fact, the government used to encourage citizens to shoot guys you didn't like. My great-great-great-grandfather shot Grover Cleveland twice. Yeah, once for each non-consecutive term.

Listen, I'd love to shoot Harry Reid, believe me. But you know how these government regulations are. I shoot somebody and you the next thing you know, I lose my slapping license.

Well, no, I don't actually have a slapping license. But hey, I don't want John Law knocking on my door, know what I'm saying?

Okay, thank you for using Joe the Plumber's Slap-a-Rep.

Hello citizens of Louisiana! Hope you're havin fun this Mardi Gras! Or at the very least not interfering with tourists having a good time, which is now against the law.

Governor Bobby Jindal here. I'm here to assure you that you don't need to worry anymore. I won't accept that nasty stimulus package money! That nasty, stinky, smelly stimulus money from Washington! Or as I like to call it, Sin Town!

I call it that because I can't think of something insulting that rhymes with Washington! It's so evil it doesn't rhyme with anything!

Truth be told, I'm not going to reject all of the stimulus package. I mean, a man's gotta eat! But never fear, I will reject the sickest, vilest part of the package--unemployment insurance.

Maybe you don't understand unemployment insurance. Well, let me tell you, it's just about the worst thing to ever happen to this country, right after the designated hitter and Will & Grace. F'rinstance, did you know that in order to collect unemployment, you have to be unemployed?

See? That's how they trap ya! You quit your job so you can get some of that sweet unemployment dough. Next thing you know, you're on welfare, too. And eating government cheese--which, as we all know, contains a secret narcotic agent that makes you desire premarital sex, believe in evolution, and smoke crack.

How can you get by in these tough times without government money? Do what your grandparents did--pull yourself up by your leather bootstraps! And then boil those leather bootstraps, which should make them semi-edible.

Barring that, why not learn from some of our brothers in the Bayou. Expand your palate! Ever had alligator? Possum? Skunk? Hey, there's no better time to try it than now!

And why grab some easy federal money when you can try for some easy state money? Yes, the Louisiana State Lottery! Pick 3, Pick 4, Easy 5, and scratchoffs, scratchoffs, scratchoffs! Someone's gotta win--why not you? Other than the astronomical odds against it, of course.

Remember what Reagan taught us, folks--government is the problem, not the solution. And I'm going to spend the rest of my career in public office proving him right!

As soon as I heard that a NY Post editorial cartoonist was in hot water, I knew it was Sean Delonas. Sure, he's the only editorial cartoonist they have, but he's also the worst cartoonist on the planet.

I honestly don't think Delonas intended to be racist, or even crypto-racist, when he portrayed the author of the stimulus package (who he insists is not meant to be Obama, although who else could it be?) as The Infamous Mad Chimp that terrorized Stamford, CT. I just think he's stupid enough to not know the racist undertones of what he drew, or too ignorant to realize that there's a long history of racist imagery involving monkeys.

The cartoon isn't really a racist joke because it's not a joke at all. He just shoe-horned a political news story (stimulus package) with a crazy non-political news story (mad chimp). It's the hallmark of someone who's dumb and unfunny, but thinks he's really smart and hilarious. It's says to the reader, See, I read the news! These two things happened in the news! Get it? It's funny cuz they happened!

Delonas went to the Jack T. Chick School for Portraying Bitterness and Revenge in Art. I can totally see him drawing sinners roasting in hell, and laughing with each stroke. That would be a lot of laughs, because the guy loves to cross-hatch. His cartoons are so dark (literally and figuratively), I wonder how the Post can afford all the ink needed to print them.

Or how any light can escape them. The universe of his cartoons is one of dirt and despair and hopelessness and All-Encompassing Wrong. Every character in his cartoons looks like a police sketch of a dead hobo.

I see his cartoons all the time on the subway, as my fellow passengers flip through copies of the Post. I can spot them out of the corner of my eye from 15 feet away, and immediately I feel a little ill. I know that on that page, some political leader Delonas doesn't like is being lowered into a vat of acid, or shot out of a cannon, or dropped from the top of the Empire State Building. The man is not subtle. Or sane.

About 20 years ago, a trend popped up in cartoons: The Landscape Far Side Imitators. Newspapers wanted one-panel cartoons with a Far Side sensibility, but they also wanted them to use the same dimensions as the other comic strips on the page. Because newspaper editors are lazy and unimaginative (gee, I wonder why papers are in such trouble these days?).

So they came up with all of these one-panel cartoons that had the same dimensions as Peanuts and Hagar the Horrible. Unfortunately--aside from being powerfully unfunny--these cartoons had way too much real estate to fill, and were drawn/written by people who had zero idea how to fill it.

So in these cartoons, all of the real action takes place in one corner, while the rest of the strip is devoted to unnecessary renderings of a sidewalk, or a kitchen countertop. Visually confusing, distracting, and completely devoid of humor--and the comics pages are full of this garbage these days. Again, any wonder why newspapers are dying?

Delonas belongs to this school of cartoonsmanship, times a thousand. Because he actually has far more space to fill than the average Far Side imitator. But rather than expand his ideas, he draws small, grimy figures and surrounds them with small, grimy details. Like decrepit buildings, crumbling asphalt, dying trees...

And rats. Guy loves to draw rats I would bet he has several copies of Willard on DVD in his house (both original and Crispin Glover editions).

Delonas was born way too late. He would have made a great contemporary of Hieronymous Bosch. Or he could have illustrated "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God." But no, he gets to plague our age with his insane visions. Thanks, history!

I wanted to get some Super Bowl predictions from football experts, but then I realized that  football experts tend to be horribly, horribly wrong most of the time. So instead, I decided to think beyond the usual expert parameters and ask some other types of people for their takes on the big game. Our next guest is Congressman John Boehner (R-OH), House minority leader.

Who did Obama pick? The Steelers? Then I'm going with the Cards.

You guys are going with the Cards, right? I don't wanna see no Republicans picking the Steelers or so help me, I'll sic Rush Limbaugh on you! Don't think I won't!

My New Year's Resolution was to stop listening to WFAN, apart from Mets games and the occasional Schmooze. I've been tuning in to that station practically my whole life, and ramped up my listenership back in the days when I wrote a now-defunct sports blog.

But now WFAN just makes me angry. And not Dynamic Anger, which pisses you off so much it inspires to do bigger and better things. It pisses me off to hear so many ill-informed opinions and caveman sensibilities and thinly veiled racism.

And then on top of everything, they added Craig Carton to their morning program, who is made from the slats at the bottom of the barrel. The epitome of everything that is wrong and stupid and adolescent about radio.

Listening to WFAN now is the audio equivalent of finishing a huge bag of Cheetos all by yourself. You'll get absolutely no nutrition from it and you'll feel sick and wrong and ashamed afterwards. There's nothing to be gained from the exercise except orange fingers.

Here's the thing, though: I have this Pavlovian response whenever I go to the bathroom in my house. It stems from the baseball season: whenever I go to use the facilities, I flip on the radio on top of the toilet so I won't miss any of whatever game I'm watching. Except that now it doesn't matter if any game is on. I do it anyway.

I've been pretty good about curbing this impulse lately, but this Monday I wasn't, and I heard about 20 seconds of Mike Francesa that infuriated me so much that I couldn't even bring myself to write about them until today.

Francesa was talking about the inauguration, which was a big red flag right off the bat. Whenever Francesa talks about anything other than sports, batten down the hatches. It's bad enough when he talks about music or movies. He loves to pretend he's Paulina Kael, if Pauline Kael had completely middle-of-the-road taste in everything. "You know who's a pretty good director? Steven Spielberg!"

But when politics enter the picture, oh lord. I caught his show on election day, just as I was leaving work, when it was slowly dawning on everyone that Obama was probably gonna win big time. You could hear how much this realization was killing him. It was so sweet, because in his voice you could hear the panicked thoughts of every Wall Street asshole and moneyed buffoon in the land. "Oh no, now I'm gonna take home only several million dollars a year instead of many millions! I might have to sell my third house!"

All he could get out was, "Hey, Obama ran a brilliant campaign, what can I say?" He said it in the same condescending way he begrudgingly hands out compliments to the Mets (granted, they rarely give him cause to do so).

If you do nothing for the next 4 years, Obama, thank you for that moment.

So day before the inaguration, the biggest one of our lifetimes, possibly the biggest ever, what is Francesa talking about? He's complaining about all the inauguration balls and how much money they're gonna cost. How it's not right to be spending so much dough during this time of financial hardship. "Hey, I got nothing against him. He's my president too!" he was quick to add.

You know, Mikey, your argument might track a bit better if your show wasn't simulcast on the YES Network, the channel owned by the team that just spent $400 MILLION DOLLARS ON THREE PLAYERS.

I'm sure Francesa would counter with the fact that the Yankees are a private corporation. Well, they are and they aren't. After all, they just had THE CHROME-PLATED BALLS TO BEG NEW YORK CITY FOR MORE BONDS TO FINISH THEIR 1 BILLION DOLLAR MONUMENT TO THEMSELVES.

Now, to be fair, the Mets asked for (and received) extra bonds for their stadium, too. But they just didn't spend almost half a billion dollars on players before doing so, then turn around and cry poverty to the city (even though, after Bernie Madoff, Fred Wilpon can probably cry poverty). They also don't have a paid mouthpiece on their own network bitching about somebody else's "misuse" of public funds.

I don't recall Francesa saying word one about the Yankees feeding from the public trough in such a brazen manner after unloading dump trucks full of cash on free agents' doorsteps. So don't play like you're all of a sudden concerned about wastes of public money, you fat mess.

I mean, what's more gross a use of public moneys: celebrating the inauguration of a president, or making A.J. Burnett richer?

Ah, interwebs, is there any moment of schadenfreude you can't provide me with?

I'm usually against the yahoo-ification of public discourse, particularly in the political realm. I hate that morons like Bill O'Reilly and Sean Hannity have lowered civic discussions to the level of barroom brawls. And I hate that whenever you go to any sporting event, before "The Star Spangled Banner" ends, you are sure to hear a few idiots yell FUCK YEAH! and USA! USA!

But I have to stand back and applaud some of the brave Americans attending today's inauguration. For they saw our outgoing president emerge from his hidey hole, and they began to chant NA NA NA NA, NA NA NA NA, HEY HEY HEYYY, GOOOODBYYYYE!

I have to admit, I got a little teary. I am so proud to be an American right now...

And if someone could YouTube that crap, that would awesome.

Last week, the front page of the Daily News featured the official portrait of President-Elect Obama, the one that will be featured in every federal building. When I saw the pic, it suddenly dawned on me: After today, I'll never have to see George Bush if I don't want to.

If I go to the DMV, I won't have to see his Alfred E. Neuman smirk. When I go to the post office, I won't have to avert my eyes from his vapid, incurious stare. If I get called to jury duty, I won't have to studiously avoid looking at his pampered, entitled face for hours on end.

When Bush appears on TV from not on, it will only be to nervously defend his monstrous legacy, He'll only appear on Fox News every now and then to prop up some more fiction about how his administration "inherited" every evil thing it did or caused or allowed to happen.

So I won't feel obligated to keep watching him because he just might make some announcement that will make our lives even worse. Like, "Oh, by the way, we're invading France. Just 'cause. Try and stop me, assholes!"

In fact, I wonder if even Fox News will continue to defend the Bush legacy. Because before long, defending Bush won't be necessary for anyone anymore. Even people who will oppose Obama at every turn will do so on terms defined by the new political reality he represents, not by the rotten scraps Bush left behind.

I never want to see this asshole again, for any reason. I can learn nothing from even hating him anymore.

On MSNBC, Chris Matthews just articulated something I felt but couldn't quite put into words until now. He got offended when someone compared Bush to Nixon. In his opinion, Nixon was a tragic figure, almost Shakespearean, felled by his hubris and ambition.

That's the primary difference: Nixon was a fascinating man, and Bush is anything but. You can imagine Nixon wandering around San Clemente, wondering where he went wrong, even feeling some remorse for his evils at times.

We'll continue to study Nixon. We'll study the Bush Presidency, but Bush the Man will stay untouched by historians. There is nothing under his surface to touch.

When a tornado hits, you examine the wreckage, and you look at the meterological causes, but you don't study the tornado itself because it doesn't exist. It touches the ground, destroys everything in its path, and dissipates into the air from whence it came.

Don't you understand? Now we all can ignore Bush. Even people who agree with him on certain political issues, so they felt forced to defend him even in his most idiotic, clueless, wreckless, monstrous moments. Conservative, liberal, it doesn't matter--we're all free of this moron now.

We all can choose to ignore him for the rest of our natural lives. I know it seems hard to believe. We're all like battered spouses who've finally escaped an abusive mate--even though it's all over, it's still hard to believe that it's all over.

This realization is probably the smallest thing that will happen today, or in the next few months. But after eight years of Bush, it feels huge.

Alright, moving on with our Senate confirmations, what's the deal with this Roland Burris fella from Illinois?
That's a funny subject. Seems he was appointed by a disgraced governor, and no one ever told him that this was gonna be a huge issue. I don't know how he couldn't figure that out on his own. But anyway, we made sure the Illinois secretary of state didn't sign his certificate of appointment.
So we're rejecting his appointment?
No, see, we fixed the certificate so that you can't officially accept his appointment. So the problem's fixed from your end. We try to avoid conflict as much as possible.
Mm hm.
Later, in the Senate chamber:

Excuse me, I'd like to sign the roll book now, because I'm the junior senator from Illinois and...
Yeah, Burris, we're gonna need your office to put some old files, so I'm gonna need you to take your press conference on to the Capitol steps.
Yes, but I was told that I would be a senator by the man with the crazy Richie Rich hair...
Yeah, so if you could get on out of the Senate chamber as soon as possible, that'd be great.
/raps cubible wall with knuckles, walks away
Okay, so I'm go back to Illinois and burn Blogojevich's house down.

John McCain had to die for George Bush's sins.

In a fair world, the economic meltdown costs George Bush an election, not John McCain.

In a fair world, George Bush runs against a charismatic, photogenic candidate who conducts one of the most brilliantly organized presidential campaigns ever, a man who arrives at the precise moment in history when he's needed the most. And McCain gets to run against a robot and the winner of a Ted Cassidy look-alike contest.

In a fair world, George Bush is roasted in the media for idiotic misstatements, catastrophic misjudgments, and overall out-of-touchness.

In a fair world, none of these things happen to a man who spent five years as a POW in Hanoi. They happen to the guy who spent the war doing kegstands at Yale and protecting El Paso from the Viet Cong

In a truly fair world, George Bush doesn't have a powerful daddy to get him in the Texas National Guard, so he has to go to Vietnam, and maybe the experience transforms him, so when he becomes president he doesn't send servicemen to be maimed and killed on a complete fucking lie.

Last I checked, life isn't fair.

Election Day was great for baseball. And baseball was great for Election Day.

After the Mets collapsed yet again, I took all the emotional/spiritual/perspirational energy I poured into their hopeless cause and channeled it into following the presidential election. I also focused some of that chi into rooting against the Phillies, which didn't work out nearly as well.

Like any other good lefty, I read Daily Kos, watched Keith Olbermann, and tsked at Fox News ass-hattery. But it's easy to overdose on Smug when you live in a liberal bastion like New York and only consume media with which you agree. It's easy to fool yourself into thinking you know what your fellow Americans feel and want.

I fooled myself in 2004. I never deluded myself into thinking that John Kerry was a magnificent charismatic agent of change because, duh. But considering the state of the country at the time, and the obvious (to me) evil represented by Bush, I concluded that Kerry would prevail. I told myself there was no way Kerry could lose because...well, he couldn't, could he?

And then I found myself up at 2 in the morning, watching Ohio go to Bush, sucking down beer and wishing I was drunk enough to pass out and forget any of it had ever happened.

Mark my words. It will not be six months before the world tests Barack Obama like they did John Kennedy.

Just so we're clear, I don't mean in the way that any new president would face challenges. No, I mean, they wanna take down Barack Obama so bad! They're gonna be on him like ugly on an ape!

And when I say "they," I don't mean the right wing talking heads at Fox News. Oh boy, he's gonna wish it was Fox News coming after him

As we all know, America has enemies around the globe. Huge, scary enemies! During his first six months in office, I foresee no fewer than five terrorist attacks on American soil.

Okay, I heard some of you in the audience gasp. So let me just say, I don't have any evidence this will happen. Just a hunch, I guess. Oh, and at least one of those attacks will involve nerve gas.

I know what you're thinking: We don't know of any major terrorist organization that has access to nerve gas. But I'm sure any one of them could totally get it if they wanted to. North Korea would be more than willing to sell VX to Al Qaeda. And don't forget about all the corrupt military officials in Pakistan and Russia. Those guys would sell their grandmas for a couple bucks, and they're not too fond of the US to begin with.

Trust me, if Bin Laden wants nerve gas, he can get it. There are ways. You don't even wanna know.

I also think that Al Qaeda will flood our cities' streets with a new superdrug. It will be twice as addictive as crack and give users bursts of psychosis and ungodly strength, thus creating a new race of ghetto super-criminals.

Just sounds like something they'd try to do. You know, if you think about it.

Looks like a guy fainted in the back row there. Somebody wanna help him out? Thanks.

So what we need to do is remain vigilant and put more resources into security at our nation's major entry points. And we better do it soon, before guys with bazookas start picking off planes at major airports.

Maybe you think that could never happen, but never say never! They got tougher security at Radio Shack than they do around airport runways. Just sneak under some chainlink fence and you're in! And you could buy a rocket launcher at a gun show these days--for like nothing! So Al Qaeda gets 10 different guys with bazookas to sneak into airports across the country, then they all start shooting down flights right after take off. It'd be sooo easy do!

What if Al Qaeda was able to insert subliminal messages into kids' shows? Like, if they had a mole inside Nickelodeon. So our children become suicide bombers and murder us in our sleep. And America becomes full of Children of the Corn Islamo-fascists! Wow, I'm getting chills just thinking about it!

What if they replaced Michelle Obama with a radioactive robot? I saw something like that in an issue of Spider-Man once.

I know, I know, you're probably sitting there, having just soiled yourself with fear, wondering, "Al Qaeda can't have this kind of technology, do they?" And you're right, they probably don't.

But an act of terrorism doesn't have to be anything too high-tech, either. What if you just unleashed guys with box cutters in big cities? If a street is crowded enough, you can totally cut somebody and disappear into the crowd and never get caught. Just fade into a faceless sea of humanity. Now imagine that happening in, like, every major city in the country every day! Boy, that'd be really creepy, huh?

So as I was saying, it's important that we get more federal funds to protecting the home front. Personally, I'd like to see some of those funds set aside so that every American family can purchase a shotgun and basement bunker's worth of canned food. This would prepare us for the inevitable zombie attacks, of course!

Of course, there's no such thing as zombies. Now. But there could be, if Al Qaeda goes ahead with its occult experiments and successfully spikes our nation's water supply.

Believe me, they would love to have this happen under a Barack Obama administration.

So in conclusion, remember to go out and vote the Democratic ticket on November 4th!

It's unfortunate that my esteemed opponent, Barack Obama, is trying to make race an issue in this campaign. Every time I accuse him of making race an issue, he brings up race! It's almost as if he's defensive about the whole race thing.

I'm used to these types of reactions. There are people in this world who see me and think that I can't be President. Well, I have never listened to what the naysayers said, and I am here to tell America that yes, a black woman can be President.

Maybe the thought of a black woman President scares Senator Obama. Maybe he thinks our place is in the kitchen--the black kitchen. But as a famous black singer whose name escapes me once said, "I will survive as a black woman candidate."

My husband was proud to be our nation's first black President. He had a hard road to walk, like so many of our black forefathers. But he walked that road, with his own two black feet, and I am ready to walk that black, black path he forged for me--for all of us!

And by "us", I mean all of us black people.

Of course, it's not just Senator Obama who oppresses us. At times, we are our own worst black enemy. There are some who say I'm not "black" enough, that I'm an "Uncle Tom". This is nothing new for me. When I left the tough streets of my black, inner city, black neighborhood, there were people who said I was turning my back on my black 'hood.

I didn't listen, because I knew that my black achievements could reflect well on my black roots, and allow me to one day give back to the black community that gave so much to my black self. And I say that now is not the time for black divisiveness. This is a time for black unity. With that unity, we should all come together blackly for one common black goal.

And that goal should be to elect me, the only true black candidate, no matter what Barack "Simon Legree" Obama might say.

I don't get angry at people like Senator Obama, because deep down, they're afraid--afraid of our blackness. To their fear, I counter with my black hope. To their anger, I counter with my black love. To their hate, I counter with my black friendship.

So say it loud, people: we're black and we're black proud!

Wow, this outpouring of affection from you supporters is enough to make me shed a single, black tear of black emotion.

Hey there, Interweb-Land, Ron Paul here. Maybe you know me from seeing my name on thousands of highway overpasses across the land. Perhaps you recognize me from my scintillating fifth-place finish in Iowa, or my breathtaking YouTube productions. You might also be familiar with my millions of loyal followers who post angry responses in all-caps to any blog post that mentions my name.

What's that? You don't recognize my name? That's because the liberal media is afraid of me and my suspiciously well-organized grassroots campaign, so they never mention me among the other Republican candidates. If you don't believe me, just listen to my spirited rebuttals on CNN, Fox News, C-SPAN, Good Morning America, The Today Show, A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila, and three dozen other programs.

Fact: I have a blimp! No other candidate in either party has any sort of dirigible. Mike Huckabee used to be zeppelin-sized, but I don't think that counts.

But I'm not here to talk about outmoded forms of air travel. I'm here to talk about the BCS, which is in desperate need of a Ron Paul makeover. Just like our great nation, college football's bowl system is a mess wrought by bureaucrats and meddlesome eggheads and their stupid computery computers.

When Ron Paul takes over, all computers in the nation will be destroyed, and I will give out free Common Sense Thinkin' Caps to every citizen. I will also not allow evolution to be taught in schools, unless all science teachers doing so follow every statement about this theory by yelling BULLSHIT.

The BCS is just like the income tax: nobody's happy with it, but nobody's got the guts to do anything about it. Except guess who? That's right, yours truly, the Paulinator. No, please, hold your applause until I'm finished.

My solution: tear down the whole damn thing. But don't start over. Just let the schools stomp around in the rubble and let them figure it out. How about, everybody play everybody, all the time! Or play the same team over and over! If Michigan wants to play Ohio State three times a week all year, let 'em! Oregon can play itself for all I care. Hell, they got enough uniforms for seven teams.

Eventually, the glorious free market will decide who's champ, without the expense and fuss of a newfangled bowl system. You see, Americans are frontier people. Things run best in this country when we let 'em run wild. Who can do their job with the nosy NCAA or federal government waggin' its finger at every gosh darn thing?

Say you're a big agribusiness company, and you wanna save some dough by feeding Styrofoam peanuts to your poultry. Or you're a toy company and you feel like using some delicious lead paint. Guess what? You can't, 'cause the dang ol' government says you can't.

But when Ron Paul is supreme executive, I mean, president, that won't be a problem, 'cause we won't have an FDA or an FTC. In fact, we won't have any office that can be spelled in all capital letters. Probably do away with that stupid Supreme Court, too. All we need in Washington is me and enough Congressman to field a softball team.

I'm sure there will be some unscrupulous companies that'll do crazy stuff, like slap Gerber's labels on sulfuric acid and sell it as baby food. So you, as a consumer, can choose to not by caustic chemicals for your infant. You vote with your dollar, see? And you'll drive the no-good-niks outta business, leaving only righteous capitalists standing.

Unless the sulfuric acid guys buy out all the other baby food companies. Or they pay off enough newspapers and networks so you never hear about their sulfuric acid. But hey, that's the free market. Don't like it? Go to Cuba, commie.

I'm sure my BCS solution will captivate the nation, just like my solutions for Washington have taken root in the political consciousness. Why, here's unsolicited testimony from a concerned citizen.

LAUPNOR: IF YOU WANT TO KEEP THE BOWL SYSTEM YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE CONSTITUTION ALSO THE IRS IS ILLEGAL AND EVERYONE WHO DOESN'T THINK SO SHOULD BE BURNT AND TORTURED AND TIM TEBOW IS NOT MY HEISMAN WINNER. HOOK EM HORNS!

I like the way LAUPNOR thinks!

Two words for last week's picks: Ug-Lee. Week 9 had a lot of underdogs winning, and a lot of overdogs either choking or deciding to win their games by razor thin margins. Hey, Eli Manning--Plaxico's not on the field; try throwing a pass that's not 11 feet in the air. And see if you can beat the fucking Texans by more than four points. Asshole.

The tallies for week 9: win/loss 7-7; points, 5-9. That brings the season's grand total to:

Win/Loss: 84-43
Points: 62-63

So for the first time this year, I've fallen below .500. I would blame my guest picker, but he had a hard enough week as it is. I tried to get now-ex-Senator George Allen to contribute, but he's a tad bitter about pigskin right now; carrying a football around to every damn campaign stop did him no apparent good. So instead, I turn to ex-Monday Night Football commentator/right-wing radio yakker/acceptable drug addict Rush Limbaugh.

Buffalo at Indianapolis: I admire Peyton Manning's commitment to excellence almost as much as I do his commitment to free enterprise. He's set to break Tiki Barber's all-time season record for commercial endorsements. If you remember that DirecTV ad where he tells the viewer to turn over to another, more interesting game, I think this contest will resemble that spot. Indianapolis by 8.

San Francisco at Detroit: A bet for the 49ers on the road is a bet for Nancy Pelosi and her San Francisco values! Detroit by 6.

San Diego at Cincinnati: With the Democrats back in power, expect to see a return to the revolving-door justice system of years past. For a preview of this grim new world, just look at the incarcer-rific Bengals, who've logged more trips to the pokey than offensive yards. The Chargers will be more than a match for this band of convicts, even without Shawne Merriman, a talented young man who got a bit too zealous in his self-medication regimen. Look, we've all been there, haven't we? San Diego by 5.

I'm a terrible American.

Tuesday marked the first time since I'd turned 18 that I didn't vote. Like many an antihero, my patriotic impulses were thwarted by bureaucratic BS. My car was up for inspection this week, see, and I had no time before D-Day to get it checked out. My father-in-law offered to take it to a guy he knows, but in order to do so, I had to drive the car over to his place after work yesterday. This took a good chunk out of potential voting time.

Plus, I hadn't re-registered in my new neighborhood. So in order to vote, I'd have to go back to Greenpoint, which is nigh impossible to do in the evening without a car. Beyond rush hour, the local buses run like a fat asthmatic kid with a torn ACL. Long story short, time, tide, and the affairs of the DMV conspired to thwart my civic duties.

But if I'm honest with myself, I can say that if I really, really, really wanted to vote, I would have found a way to do so. I didn't.

I finished up my year of NFL picks at MSN Sports Filter on a decidedly sour note. Two bad weeks in a row; my week 8 tallies were 7-7 win/loss, 6-8 points. That showing brought my tally on the season to:

Win/Loss: 77-36
Points: 57-56

Obviously, I need some high-powered help. So this week, Scratchbomb.com is pleased to welcome a guest handicapper for our NFL picks. You may remember him from such unbridled successes as "the Valerie Plame scandal", "the Mark Foley cover up" and "you forgot Poland". Here's Republican strategist/pork vacuum Karl "Turdblossom" Rove.

Atlanta at Detroit: A good solid red state versus a city full of, um, traditional Democrat voters. Try and guess who I'm picking! I don't know if Michael Vick will continue his chuck-tastic ways, but it won't matter much against the toothless Lions. I know Vick's a lefty, but I forgive him. Atlanta by 8.