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Tom Coburn is a Big Fat Jerk


Home of the Barking Moonbat


Sunday, March 20, 2005

I think you're absolutely wonderful, but ...

The classic deadly opening of the Dear John (or Jane) letter, conversation, email, whatever.

And continuing one of the subthemes of the week: is it worth it? To which I respond hell, no, I'd rather hang around with the chickens as the anti-millionaire (which will be a post at some time in the future, which you can count on me doing just as much as you counted on me exposing the oil-agribusiness connection, not to mention the culture of oil, and a step by step guide to homemade solar, and everything else I've promised but as is true to my nature [which is kind of flakey and mercurial] got bored with thinking about and went on to other things) (anti-millionaire being the only thing that pops right in mind which notes in any way our masochistic insistence that we all must be millionaires and world famous before we can hop off the hamster wheel).

Except sometimes the Dear John (or Jane) isn't forthcoming, and you're expected to have the grace and dignity to know you've been dumped like five pounds of potatoes.

Except some people are simmering little stewpots who sometimes explode into righteous rage and fury and begin hunting you down --- or they're bitter English professors who wait til you're down and out or (even better) dead to excoriate you in print for your failure to cater to their delicate sensibilities.

Majikthise at Freiheit und Wissen points us to this: Terry Castle whines and prisses about Susan Sontag and famous people.


At 3:57 AM, Blogger MJ said...

And who is this "simmering little stewpot" of whom we speak?!

At 6:13 AM, Blogger Cookie said...

Marj! I'm thinking of John Wayne Gace types --- or whoever, someone similar. Those guys who gubr tiy doiwn with large kitchen knives abd nutilate your dogs first, then start offing your co-workers next, all the while calling you on the phone to let you know what they're doing. Stalker dudes.

At 6:09 PM, Blogger MJ said...

Yikes! Can we pretend they don't exist?

At 6:15 PM, Blogger Cookie said...

He. :=D

Actually, there's one on the loose down here in our little piece of heaven dressed in camo and posing as a game warden. But he's got the real game warden and half the women (driving pickup trucks and armed :=D) in the community after him, so he's out of luck.

He has NO IDEA what he's jus walked into.

I've been sitting here at the window keeping an eye out in case he tries to head down into my hollow to hide. No sign of him, but I did see the fat bunny (&$#@!!?) race across the back yard and what appears to be a beaver waddling down the hill into the hollow.


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