Having engaged in political conversations about this upcoming election with most of the people I know, I've noticed something that really bothers the bejeezus out of me:

No matter what side of the fence the people I'm talking to are on, they will not criticize their person/party of choice. Talk to folks who are pro-O and they'll pooh pooh what a fuckwit Ayers is, and the Democratic Party's ties to ACORN. Talk to McCain supporters and they brush off his charming rendition of Bomb Bomb Iran, and seem oblivious to the fact that Palin's about as qualified to be VP (much less the actual Big P) as Michael Jackson is to be the executive director of Big Brothers, Big Sisters.

Now, mind you, I know who I'm voting for (hell, I already voted), but that doesn't mean I think my candidate of choice is beyond questioning. No one with power and authority EVER is. I actually think you should be MORE critical of your own party/candidates.

God I can't wait until this election is over. Election years make me want to kick things.

As someone who's spent about 13 years serving at various restaurants, I found this NY Times Magazine article really interesting.

The meat of the article is about a hipster restaurant in San Diego that's outlawed tips. Instead, an 18% service fee is tacked on to each check, and that fee is then divided between the servers and kitchen staff. If patrons are adamant about tipping more than the 18%, they're encouraged to donate the excess money to the charity of the month. Over the past two years the restaurant has gathered over $10,000 for charities.

The article goes through the history of tipping (there's a reason the words "server" and "servant" are so darn similar), the economics if it (tippers pay out about $42 *billion* a year in America, and servers only claim about 40% of that to the government), and the ethics of it (why are servers tipped when kitchen staff aren't - especially when they're the ones responsible for the quality of the food?).

Neato.

Remember AIG? One of the companies  that so desperately needed a big fat taxpayer-enabled bailout? Well, it turns out they just treated their bigwigs to a fantastic getaway weekend at the luxurious St. Regis resort in California, spending almost $450,000 to do so.  The receipts are dated October 3rd. Fuckers. (http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/years/2008/1007083aig1.html)

Thanks, Obama.
Thanks, McCain.
Thanks for a lot.

Seeing Russ Feingold (once again) prove his commitment to responsible governing and government, I can't help but confront how ready I am to be disappointed by Obama.

Change my ass.
Bleah.

Once again, my pretend husband Russ Feingold shows his hot, rockin' awesomeness by voting against another irresponsible bailout package:  http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/senate_rollcall_financial_meltdown

If you know me, you know I mean serious business if I'm willing to tie myself to a pretend husband, and Russ is well worth it. Although he pretty much guaranteed my undying loyalty by voting against the Patriot Act (not only because it was horrible law, but because no responsible legislator should EVER vote for legislation they haven't even been given time to review), he's reignited my ardor by once again stepping up and saying "Are you fucking kidding me?"

I adore you, Russ. Thank you. I wish you were running for prez. And I promise not to stalk you when I'm old and crazy. Or at least I promise to TRY not to stalk you.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph:

http://www.luxist.com/2008/09/04/cindy-mccains-300-000-outfit-for-the-rnc/

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/
 

 You never really know how much you use and need something until you lose it. Especially the tiny things that you can easily take for granted, like your left pinky finger. Or, in this case, all the letters under your left pinky finger. Over the weekend, something happened to my keyboard and 5 little letters just stopped working. Now, had this typographical hiccup concerned the middle of my keyboard (say the much-less used y, v, b, h and u keys), I'd probably still be bumbling along, reading like a bad, drunk joke. Instead, I lost half the letters in half the passwords I use for everything. I couldn't email, I couldn't bank, I couldn't check my IM, I couldn't check my work mail. I basically couldn't do all the stuff I have this box for. Thank god I still had my Craigslist!

So, apparently 3 young boys (ages 8, 9 and 11) have been charged with raping an 11-year-old girl. I want to clip out this story and carry it with me, so that every time someone asks me why I don't want to have kids I don't even have to say anything. I can just turn the radio to some increasingly annoying and/or talentless station (I hear Imus is coming back, that should do) and whip out this article. 

Who the hell WANTS to have kids in this culture? I don't get it. Seriously. If I managed to get pregnant, I'd feel obligated to homeschool and swaddle the kid in plasticwrap everytime he had to venture out into the world. Maybe I'm just getting too old. I dunno. I just know that people are either becoming increasingly distasteful or I'm becoming less capable of excusing it. 

If you've never heard/seen this before, check it out:  The Miniature Earth

The other night I burned the bejeezus out of my wrist shortly before I planned on going to bed.  Because I couldn't find anything else that would stay cool against my skin long enough for me to get to sleep, I ended up strapping a cucumber to my wrist and passing out.

Betchya that's not what you were expecting to hear, eh?

Okay, so considering that Isreal's gone all rabid pit bull and the sky will probably soon look like a Jiffy Pop Plane Popper, this is (admittedly) an incredibly petty thing to get my panties in a bunch about but I'm so irritated that Fox News is making Dennis Miller a commentator.  It's not that he's conservative (that's to be expected) but that he's a standup comedian.  Can you imagine the collective hissy fit people would have if CNN made Chris Rock or John Stewart a commentator?  I think if I owned CNN I would immediately produce a news show with a Comedy Sportz format, just to f*ck with FOX.  Okay, we need a country and a dictator.  Go!

It's really hard to be civil when one of the guys at the table you're serving is one of the cops who beat up Frank Jude.
Hey jackass, would you like another Coke?

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20060720/sc_nm/energy_spain_plankton_dc_1

Not because it's not utterly fantastic, but because I've been working on a scifi story and that was one of my nifty inventions.  Damnit. 

I am by no means a status or gadget whore, but this is just the coolest thing ever. 

Okay, the following article was stolen from the socialsciences LJ and basically talks about a new political party, the Unity Party.  Apparently, the party is composed of centrist politicians and activists who, sick of the current polarized and fringe-issue political landscape, want to target mainstream Americans.  It is their belief that only by creating a ticket with both a Democrat and a Republican can we crawl out of the current tar pit of petty and superfluous legislation and target issues that concern average Americans.   Although I find the whole idea both interesting and depressing, I can't help but wonder if party organizers are already licking their chops hoping for Russ Feingold and John McCain.

Anyway, if you're interested, check it out. 

This is just a little rant to get some some stuff off my irritated chest.  If any of you are libertarian or this particular sort of libertarian, this will probably offend you.  If that's the case, I apologize but I totally gotta bitch here. That said... 

Okay, so for the most part I like Bill Maher.  I think he's funny, I think he sticks to his guns and I don't think he's overly schmarmy.  But is he like the only libertarian out there who isn't a complete jackass or who takes a good 30 seconds to consider whether his lifestyle actually supports his political beliefs?  For instance: 

1.  You don't get to whine about the death of "rugged individualism" when you live with your folks, and rent-free on top of it.  I don't care what your reasons are, I don't care how long you plan on doing it.   You're an opportunist, which puts you somewhere between cockroaches and Congress as far as I'm concerned. 

2.  You don't get to whine about our dependence on foreign oil when you put 20k miles a year on your SUV to drive around on your rugged adventures. (Alone of course, because you hate people.)  Get your ass in a hybrid, scale back your consumption, or quit your bitching, you hypocrite. 

3.  You don't get to whine about what subdivisions and suburbanization are doing to rural America when you refuse to live in the city, you selfish bastard.  And, when these conflicts are pointed out you don't get to grin and say "Yeah, I'm a little conflicted."  No, actually, you're just a hypocrite.    

4.  You don't get to discuss Darwinian theory when the only evolutionary and/or biological theory you (think you) know is "survival of the fittest."    That's like trying to discuss classical mechanics just because you know shchitt falls when you drop it.  Good luck with that. 

5.  Changing the subject is not making your point.  Changing the subject is refusing to concede it when you can't.  You suck. 

6.  You don't get to whine about social programs and spending when you yourself are getting financial aid.  What's the matter, can't find your bootstraps? 

7.  You don't get to use the phrases "self-made man" and "small inheritance" together.  Ever.    

8.  You don't get to talk about the "unethical" nature of hunting when you eat factory farmed meat.  You're kidding me, right?! 

9.  Do NOT expect me to reciprocate your little "I really appreciate your views and arguments" speech.  Seriously.  Sorry buddy but your arguments are crap and your views are mental so those words will not be coming outta my mouth.   I will be diplomatic enough to call your hypocritical stances "conflicts" and to smile and nod as you try and weave your pathetic little stances, but do not expect me to lie to soothe your ego.  It's not going to happen. 

10.  You do not get to touch me.  Ever.  

Effen libertarians. 

We all have our morning rituals.  

Me, I like to chill out with a cup of coffee, some buttered toast and deal with my email.  My butt's a little itchy in the morning, so I like to scratch it too.   

My new downstair neighbor, well, his morning ritual seems to be cranking up very not good music (bands that seem to have picked up where such perennial favorites as Styx and Air Supply left of) and just singing the sh*t out of them.  If the off key voice weren't so clear I'd guess he was shower singing, but there's no shower curtain muffle.  And, if the music (and jesus & judas, his voice) weren't so bad, it'd actually be quite cute (I'm a car singer, so I have sympathy for those of us who sing and dance in inappropriate situations) but woah, is he bad.  

I imagine him down there, towel and/or sheet draped around his neck, air-guitaring and neck-rocking his way through all the bad bands of the 80s.  I do not know what his name is, but I'm calling him Wayne.  

Rock on, Wayne.

Snagged from someone else's journal and I can't remember who -- sorry!  Anyway, well
worth the watch, although I doubt it'll change any pro-penalty minds:

http://www.spikedhumor.com/articles/27677/Penn_Teller_Bullsh_t_The_Death_Penalty.html

Let me just say how much I love Gray's Anatomy.  (And, yah yah yah, television evil, blah blah blah.)  I am forever indebted to any television program that allows a character to explicitly be "scary and damaged" but still infinitely sympathetic and lovable.  Why?  Because it gives me hope damnit!  

Scary and damaged singletons of the world unite! 

So this morning I jump in my car and drive about six blocks before it becomes obvious that my brakes just aren't working. I manage to very slowly and very carefully drive to a service station.  Upon checking out the beast, the mechanic informs me that something called a "master cylinder" has broken and needs to be replaced.   Umm, if I'd been pig-headed and left Milwaukee I'd be in the middle of nowhere right now without breaks.

The Cosmic Kitten strikes again.  Yeesh.