Politics of Fear: Why the Threat of a Government Shutdown is Bogus.


by Antenna Wilde

We are being bombarded by it; the horrible possibility of a government shutdown if the Dems and Reps don’t come to an agreement soon. Horse-puckey! Just another technique by the power elite to scare the public into accepting another attack on public services for the sake of the rich. Republicans claim tax breaks for billionaires are necessary because they create jobs, but the only jobs they are creating are overseas.
The Dems and Reps are two sides of the same coin: Reps slash programs that benefit people like seniors, the disabled and education, while the Dems cry foul but do nothing about it. For decades the Dems have been accused of being spineless—and with good reason—but the real reason is to facilitate the power elite agenda under the guise of making an effort in the *two party* system. This is why the “negotiations” are always behind closed doors. Fascinating how these public servants can’t let the actual public know what they’re really saying, that would be unfair to the snakes in office, and they make the rules, after all.
There will be no government shutdown, it’s a hoax. At the last minute, Obama will agree to the majority of the Republican agenda for the same reason he did before: it’s the same agenda of the power elite, you know, those who put him in office. Sure, lots of people *voted* for him, but make no mistake: he wouldn’t have been on a ticket if he didn’t make a deal with GE, Goldman Sachs, JP Morgan and Citibank, not to mention Big Oil and the military industrial complex. Funny how no one mentions cutting military spending while we spend ten times more than anyone else.
The government won’t shut down because the government makes the power elite their money by staying open for business. I’d love to see a government shutdown, just like I would love to see those banks *fail*, but it will never happen. Here’s a scenario that exemplifies why the government won’t shutdown: You own a business selling widgets, and the widgets are bought using public funds. You are in charge of deciding how many widgets are to be provided, and also how much funds will be made available for the purchasing of the widgets. Not a business too big to fail, just a *business* that cannot fail!

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llama Kill by Cousin Inbred


Antenna Wilde welcomes special guest blogger, Cousin inbred from Myspace.com

llama Kill, a Retort
By Cousin inbred
11/21/09

First off, u should read Purdy Poo’s blog befor readin mine.
Now, Purdy Poo done think she can go steelin the spot-lite wit her storeeze of poopin lambas, and how rightieous she is by settin ’em free? Well, yer cuzins got sumpthin to say bout that., cuz it just so happens that I waz the one drivin the pick-up truck that killed them lambas, and i didn’t feeel bad about it one buit. Fact is, I fed my whole family wit thos lambas, cuzons and all.

I waz drivin the trusty ol Chevy on route 2, same as any night after workin the night shift. It waz 6AM i rememebr cause that’s when I always have a “just-got-off-werk” shot off Jaxk Dansliels (special reserve) And these giant turkeys come staggering stupid-like across the road, and I hits em intenshunal-like cause i’m all happy when i gets a good road kill fer free, no worries on the highway gettin it fressh right there. But these lambas were big ol heavy fuckerz! HA! You shoulda seen them smack dab BAM fuckin SLAM on the hood and roll on out over to the sides of the road. One was dead fer sure and the other was brethin coughy rasp until i took my shotgun an plugged his head real good and overflow.

So i skinned em at home, gut em clean an fixed up the periferals. We called lots of people, lotz came. Cuzon greg came by wit some grease form Amy Bahkers and we made all kinds of funny edibles. Point is, you can feed a great many peoples with 2 llambas. Purdy Poo’s gota keep that in mind, how to see it in the true lite of nature; we being hungry animals and all, and needin feedin. Llamba poo may smell horrendible, but the meat is purdy sweet marinarded in beer and spices, put on the spit a while. Come on down, Purdy! We wont bite —much! heh heh heh.

Couzin Inbred

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Flittery Glitters!


Flittery Glitters!
by Antenna Wilde

I was hit in the face by a fish today. It’s true! I was swimming in the Gulf of Mexico, minding my own business, trying to catch the occasional bodysurf when a strange fluttering emerged from the sea. The first cluster was spread out like a mini-van, approaching from 10 yards away, then exploding in unison, arching themselves from the water in silvery glitters. A man behind me yelled, “Did you see those fish?”
“Yeah!” I said, turning in surprise. But when I turned back, another strange fluttering came, until the surface was breached and more silver, glistening dive bombers shot out in rapid succession, lobbing themselves at me,—I turned—but was hit! The slippery weight of a wet fish bounced off my cheek before careening back into the ocean.

It was a mullet. I checked with one of the life guards—who had been hit himself once, long ago—and he assured me that it was indeed a mullet. Then for a brief moment I wished I was a redneck who had a mullet haircut. Then I wished that, not only did I have a mullet, but that the mullet who hit me had hit the mullet instead of my cheek. And then I wished the mullet had been caught in my mullet, because I could have taken him home and had him for lunch.

That truly would have been my lucky day! But alas, I sit here eating tuna fish, wondering if I should go back out there with my fishing pole. I don’t think I will ever go swimming in the ocean again without thinking of those flittery glitters; those silvery shimmers, launching at me in defense of their playground. Or perhaps it was a game: maybe they were playing—like the dolphins—because after all, how do we know what a fish is really thinking? So if the fish was being friendly—giving me a kiss, perhaps—then I shall name him Flitter. Flitter the Mullet.

NEW UPDATE! Apparently flying fish are not uncommon, but I never thought they went THIS crazy!

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Hooters : You Came for A Sandwich?


by Antenna Wilde

Honestly, I’ve walked into two Hooters in my life, and it was the same cluster of sad, drooling losers trying to act like they’ve come for something other than booty shorts and fake tits. “But hey, the GAME is on!” Anyway, I walked by a Hooters last night—and yes, I had to peer through the window for an ogle because, let’s face it; Hooters doesn’t hire fatties.

Now isn’t this just the poor man’s version of a strip club? (Where Hooters girls end up, incidentally, if they don’t make it to the Annual Bikini Finals.) Personally, I prefer strip clubs. There’s something authentic about a strip club: the girls are whores, the guys are horny. But more importantly, nobody’s trying to pretend that they came for a sandwich. Check out Hooters website. Ah yes, there’s nothing like eating a Hogie with a boner.Hooters Makes You Hungry AND Horny?

Wow, look at that sandwich back there! I can almost taste the… uh, what is that, ham? It could be smoked turkey… legs… yes… definitely legs. According to this advertisement, the Hooter’s formula is: Hot chick + “makes you happy” = (can you guess?) Oh yeah, they also have sandwiches.

And Hooters sponsors sporting events too, like the NGA Tour. That’s right, it’s The Hooters Classic! I don’t know about you, but when I think golf, I think Titties! It’s likely the event will increase your handicap, but then again, you might not care.

Neither does anyone else. I did a google search on Hooters and found this: “Hooters Girls: The Finalists – 19841 views – 0 comments”Nobody Cares

It’s shocking really, that 19,841 people viewed the page and NOT ONE took the time to say anything. Not even, “Hey, nice tits!”

A lot of people think Hooters should be sued for only hiring hot chicks with big tits. And actually, they have been. But oddly enough, the biggest lawsuit settlement went to men, who wanted to be, uh… “Hooters boys”? Weird. And here’s something else weird: in the Hooters girl handbook, one of the conditions of employment requires Hooters Girls to sign a statement recognizing they may be victims of harassment: “I hereby acknowledge…the work environment is one in which joking and innuendo based on female sex appeal is commonplace.” So you could say that, making a “nice tits” comment is not only appropriate, but encouraged. So come on girls, just show us your tits, because who ever came for a sandwich?

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