Before I get into the meat n' taters of this rant (or, if you're veggie, taters n' taters), let me say that it's awesome to finally be in the right head space to get back to Kos.

I've had a seriously crazy last year or so, and I'm sure I'll get into some of that before too long, but that's not what I came to talk about.

I came to issue a telegram.

Thanks largely to the advice of Kossacks yesterday, my family had a meeting with the Red Cross to talk about our burned out house, our recovery of what's left of our nice, neat, flaming little shit( for any Fight Club fans), and our current situation.

We also met with the claims adjuster today, too. This is what he told us.

Yesterday afternoon, I went out to run an errand before the missus got back from her Jamaication. When I pulled up into the driveway, smoke was billowing out of the house.

In the time it took for the fire department to show up, I had made about twenty trips into the burning house with tupperware containers filled with mininal amounts of water in an attempt to contain the fire- which originated on the stove and had worked it's way up the wall and into the loft. The wiring in the house had caught as well.

From what the fire department could tell, this is what happened.

Bar's open, come on in and belly up, y'all.

St. Pat's is a pretty interesting day, or rather, phenomenon. Today, millions of Americans will put aside not only their differences, but their nationalities as well in order to become a stereotypical drunken, Irish, lout- marginalizing a culture as only we Americans can.

In fact, on the auld sod, the statement, "Fuck me, I'm Irish" is more of a surprised declarative than a suggestion.

Anyhoo, on with the show.

During the election, a buddy of mine in the Air Force was sending me emails from Rush, Duncan Hunter (whose words offer an alternative to Ipecac), Fred (Foghorn) Thompson...the whole gang. It sucked, and I asked him to stop. To which he replied:

Sure man, I'll stop handing you the truth when you accept it.

Long story short, after a few pointed phone calls, and what I'd like to refer to as a "home visit", the emails stopped. At least, I thought they did.

This morning I opened my inbox to find this:

Full disclosure: I owe it to fellow Kossack menathan as well for bringing up Frank Zappa's Crossfire interviews. Which kinda means I owe it to Frank Zappa as well. Anyhoo, in case I'm starting to lose you already, on with the show.

In the interest of creating an entertaining diary, please read this in the voice of your favorite Scrubs character. If you don't have one, one will be selected for you. Your Scrubs character voice is: Janitor.

Hey baby,

I know I haven't been around lately, and I take full responsibility for that. I'm not gonna be one of those assholes that just pops in and out of your life, giving you clips of Real Time when I'm flush and leaving you high and dry during the off season. Or, in this case, the off season plus a few episodes.

At least, not any more.

If this ain't yer first rodeo, skip the damn "this is how this works" part.

This is how this works: Saturday Morning Maher is a community diary series I started for the HBO impaired(be ye overseas or be ye busted-ass broke). I post some clips, razzle few and dazzle less with my own two cents, then turn the floor over to you. You're encouraged to watch a clip, comment, and generally have a fuckin' field day discussing what you've just seen.

I watched the interview. I'm a fan. I couldn't be happier. My farts even smell good today.

When I saw what was happening to Cramer, I was getting calls and making calls like it was the mother lovin' Super Bowl (or, if you prefer, mother lovin' episode of Lost, Heroes, Rock Of Love Bus, etc...). I watched all of the unedited clips this morning, and thought, "Great Galloping Jesus On A Dinosaur, this is fucking brilliant!".

And then the stroke-fest began. And I get it, I do...it's just that, well, Jon Stewart's just a fuckin' funny man with a fake news show. He's the first guy to tell you that.

Bear with me...

The ONDCP has, from the President's Cabinet, issued orders to local, state, and federal officers to treat cannabis the same as heroin, meth, coke, crack, and smoking cigarettes anywhere- indoors or out- in Bouler, CO.

Since it's inception in the 80's, the ONDCP has given us so much more than three word slogans and acronyms...it's helped give us the highest percentage of incarcerated citizens in the world. Thanks, ONDCP, really.

From it's position as part of the Cabinet, the ONDCP has been able to operate grossly unobserved- the assumed voice and opinion of the President- as well as appallingly mismanaged, wrongly focused, and run by absolute fucking zealots with "holy" agendas.

Pause (and read) For The Cause below...

The actual transcript of President Barack Hussein Obama's Inaugural Address can be found here.

The following is the address that I heard in my own head while listening...

Teams of environmental researchers took to kayaks on Saturday last to collect water samples in the Emory River. While navigating "ash bergs", the teams were pursued by local and state police, as well as members of the Tennessee Valley Authority.

The photos, while copyrighted, have been made available free of charge to environmental groups, bloggers, and news media.

With job losses soaring, union busting nearing fad status, and a debt ceiling high enough to make Willy Wonka jealous, many states are reaching the point of insolvency when it comes to paying unemployment.

Thirty states are at risk of having the funds that pay out unemployment benefits become insolvent over the next few months, according to the National Association of State Workforce Agencies. Funds in two states, Indiana and Michigan, have already dried up, and both states are borrowing from the federal government to make payments to the unemployed.

A few days ago, Ben Cohen presented a list of both Democrats and Republicans that "need to go". Not wanting to be outdone, I thought I'd give it a shot. I should also give a hat tip to a lurk-tastic Kossack Polianiac (who writes for the same site I do)for posting about this earlier. I am 100% committed to electing and supporting new and better Democrats- hence the content of this diary.  

I’m going to do my best to not give a repeat performance of Ben’s list, but there are some assholes on both sides of the aisle (or in LIEberman’s case, hovering face down, ass up across the aisle) that bear mentioning again. So without further ado, let the potential libel begin...

We’ll go ahead and start with Rhino ’s Semi-Original List Of Ten Democrats That Need To Be Drug Out Into The Street And Beaten With A Neon Pink, Spiked Rubber Chicken By David Caruso™

I have no idea if this will take off or not, but I'll never find out if that lil' publish button doesn't get hit.

Sometimes wild, unabated, reckless dreaming is good for you. It could lead to technological breakthroughs like having the majority of cell phones resembling Star Trek communication devices or lead to the production of a Kevin Smith movie.

And it's in that tradition of having my feet planted firmly in the clouds that I bring you Thursday Night Pipe Dreams (trademark pending), whereupon I wax philosophically on what could be in a magical place called Rhinoland (aka, Freedopeia). You are not only invited, you are hereby commanded to wax yourselves. Take that however the hell you want to...

Dammit.

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.

HuffPo is reporting that David Gregory will step in after this weekend to moderate MTP. Brokaw is sticking around long enough to ask President-elect Obama why he hates America.

For all of us privileged to grow up with Bob & Tom on the radio, or at least with a classic rock radio station that had the good common sense to play all 500 minutes of Arlo Guthrie's timely and timeless classic, 'Alice's Restaurant', this is for you. At least, it should be. Alice's Restaurant has become as much of a Thanksgiving tradition for me as sweet taters, watching the Lions get their asses kicked by anyone, and drunken brawls with the cousins.

Join me over on the Group W Bench, won't you?

Is a full lobotomy a prerequisite to join Free Republic? Or just a complete lack of understanding of the English language? Because when I see this sentence,

Another lawsuit attempting to obtain a copy of Barack Obama's Hawaiian birth certificate was thrown out Friday by a judge who said there was "insufficient evidence to indicate that the public interest supports" the document's release

I read it as, well, as it's freakin' written. The evidence doesn't support the public interest in the stupid birth certificate. How do FReepers read this sentence? Dead-ass wrong, that's how.

For adventures in FReepology, follow me...

I mentioned in a comment thread last night that the wife found out her office is being shut down effective Wednesday next. No severance, and she apparently won't be receiving her commission for the month of November, either.

We've been planning a move for a while now, but it's been by the skin of our teeth as I'm receiving Permanent Disability benefits while my case is pending settlement to the tune of $28 a day, and she wasn't breaking the bank at her company. Finding a place to live in a state you aren't living in is kinda rough, and we've had quite a few slip through our fingers during the process.

We were about to send in money we didn't really have to secure a townhome because we were counting on our checks for the next month to make it out there, but she'll only bank one instead of two, now. So we started the customary calls to what we hoped would be sympathetic relatives.