Breaking Something

A weekend roundup, wherein we concoct a little mashup of various, mostly irrelevant and horrifying, events, news items and reprobates of any or no stripe.

Mandatory Castrati:

That cute little Punjabi governor of the formerly great state of Louisiana, Bobby Jindal, took a short break from "auditioning" with Psychogeezer for the “position” of VP, and what a fun position that augers to be! This week, Bobby announced to an adoring public that he had signed into law a brand-new, never before seen “Chemical Castration Law.” Not just any castration law, but one which moves from the optional to the mandatory and from the chemical to the, mother of god, “physical.”

SB 144…provides that on a first conviction of aggravated rape, forcible
rape, second degree sexual battery, aggravated incest, molestation of a juvenile
when the victim is under the age of 13, or an aggravated crime against nature,
the court may sentence the offender to undergo chemical castration. On a second
conviction of the above listed crimes, the court is required to sentence the
offender to undergo chemical castration.

This bill also provides that a court may instead order a physical
castration instead of the chemical castration.

Karl Rove Also Hearts Barry:

Yes, the slimy little enforcer reveals his most intimate fantasies:

“Even if you never met him, you know this guy,” Rove said, per Christianne
Klein. “He’s the guy at the country club with the beautiful date, holding a
martini and a cigarette that stands against the wall and makes snide comments
about everyone who passes by.”

Perfectly etched, but when the hell did they start letting anyone into country clubs other than fat, rich, pasty-faced white guys? Ah, yes, that must be the point. The source of their endless raging, earth scorching, economy plundering and warmongering. They have been waiting for Barry, all these years, waiting for that lean, RatPack-cool presence. And the bastard never shows. Poor Karl. Maybe he’s just, you know, not that into you.

Bubba Cries, Pouts, Flees and is Majorly Disrespected

Poor Bill. In an attempt to balance that always ticklish dilemma of being a serious dick whilst still exuding gravitas, he took refuge in London this week. He couldn’t possibly appear with Hills and Barry or make any statement of support for that uppity little colored person. After all, he’s a former President himself, and much blacker than Barry. He has important places to be and important, world-stage type people with whom to be seen. So there he was, grandly strolling Nelson Mandela’s birthday events, managing to confess to a brit scribe [who are ever so much better than their American counterparts since they have no issue whatsoever with being pushy pricks], that Barry could “kiss his ass” before he lends him any support. Poor Bill. Even Oprah apparently made it clear that she didn’t want to be anywhere near the little scumbag.