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"Ohmigod, did the President just . . . cut one?" 

(I’m posting a little early today because I’ve got to catch a plane back to dreary NYC) 

For the cuckoo bananas week ending 8/25/06: 

Okay, I admit it – I have been living off the grid for the past six days, drinking in the bucolic splendor that is the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, thanks to my very generous host and fellow blogger, NTodd. But I was in NYC early in the week and caught Bush’s unnerving "I’m a Grade-A Bitch When I’m Coming Off a Bender" presser, which, it seems, served as a kickoff for a week of forehead-slapping and muttering "What the fuck?"  Pushing my food tray down the line at some of the blogoterias, I see I was not too far off the mark. All of the bigotry and microencephalitic thinking that is the watermark of the Association of Assclowns (formerly known as the Republican Party) was on display. Bush, we learned, hazes his aides with his penchant for passing gas, the wingnuts mourned the FDA’s thumbs up to Plan B while Forbes published anti-feminist screeds masquerading as "Dear Abbott" columns, the New York Times wasted valuable real estate (okay, maybe not so valuable anymore) on the petty, irrelevant ramblings of Ann Althouse, and Joe Scarborough surprised everyone by asking whether the Preznit’s an idiot. Jeezy Creezy, this clown car acts like it had its brake lines cut or something.

At least the loons up here keep to the local ponds and lakes.

On Bush’s press conference, during which it became quite evident that Bush will soon commence a war on seersucker suits, The Rude One sighs:

Really, though, in the end, when Bush said, for the umpteenth time about the Iraqi government, "We’re gonna give them the tools," all the Rude Pundit could think was, Oh, so like when are you and the rest of your administration gettin’ on Air Force One for that long flight to Baghdad?

Thers, who has plenty of experience hitting himself in the  head . . .  er, trying to make some sense of the simpering platitudes of "constitutional law professor" Ms. Althouse, saves himself some additional bruising.

And then there’s the indigestible Pam of Atlas Shrugs.  She still thinks she’s doing AIPAC a favor by posting vlogs, so desperate for attention that she’s resorted to viddying herself in a bikini. Gavin M. at Sadly, No! graphically interprets what we were all thinking anyway.

Forbes Magazine should stick to writing about business.  Susie at Suburban Guerrilla points out why. Amanda at Pandagon takes a very sharp eyebrow pencil to the Harridans of Self-Hate and their minions.

Because lying seems to be a congenital condition for most Republicans:  Attaturk notes that Mean Jean Schmidt can’t run any race cleanly.

General J.C. Christian offers some "macacostic" advice to George Allen’s wounded senatorial campaign.

Over at alicublog, Roy discovers the source of wingnut logic.

Me, I’m thinking about staying up here.  It seems a lot safer for my sanity.

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NYC-based aquatic feline that likes long walks on the beach, illuminating the hypocrisies of "family values" Republicans, and engaging in snarling snarkitude.