The Effects of the Convention

I am kind of disheartened that there is a "bump" in the polls at all, be it a democrat or a republican convention, just because there was a convention. What it tells me is there is an unacceptably high percent of the population that is taken in by glamor and glitz and ponies and fireworks and nothing important as issues or decisions. Of course, I shouldn't be surprised when an ugly has-been idiotic celebrity with the brain of a mosquito can garnish some significant support amongst the masses, but still it bothers me all it takes is "pretty colors" and "flashy lights" to convince people to vote one way or another.

In any case, I am happy to see a significant bump in McCain's ratings over Obama's. I'm just hoping it has more to do with Palin than the pretty sparklies of a convention.

My Bondage-A-Go-Go-Girl Story

Occasionally, kind of akin to Michael Savage when he talks about his days as a youth, my friends suggest instead of a lecture on economics, that I regale my audience occasionally with more personable stories. And after telling a group of new friends my bondage-a-go-go girl story, they all demanded I put it up here, so pour yourself a martini, light up a cigar if you have it, settle in and enjoy.

It was 1998 and I was all of 22 years old. I frequented a club called “The Front” in Minneapolis for it was the very first place to have swing dancing. It was a great place (still is) with a Tiki-Martini Lounge theme and they had live bands like Tony DeMarco, Vic Volare and a whole host of other bands. But it was also called “The Front” because it was the front part of a larger club called “Ground Zero.” Ground Zero was an industrial, techno-rave discoteque that had this kind of “dance-girls-in-cages-men-wearing-leashes-bondage” theme. The upstairs of which you could pay a scantily-leather-clad dominatrix or dominator (depending on your preference) to torture you in front of the masses. Things like electrocuting clamps, pouring hot wax on you and so forth. It was quite surreal.

In any case, in my youthful age of 22, I ended up dating Jackie who was the bartender at The Front and was also 30. Giddy as a school boy, we only dated about a month or so, until she broke my poor youthful heart on the grounds I was too young for her and she felt guilty dating me. Regardless, she was a nice gal, almost church going, and all we did was date and smooch a little bit, but alas, that’s all it was meant to be.

So fast forward 7 years and me and my buddy Tony (the singer of the club who I befriended) were reminiscing about the good ole days at The Front.

I said, “Do you remember The Front.”

Tony responded, “Yeah, I remember The Front. Those were good days back then.”

I said, “Nothing exciting, but I used to date Jackie. You know, that cute blond that was the bartender at The Front.”

Tony, kind of surprised, turned and looked at me and said, “You dated Jackie the dominatrix?”

I said, “No, no, I dated Jackie, the bartender at The Front.”

He replied, “You dated the dominatrix!"

I said, “No, Jackie, the bartender at The Front! She was the girl serving drinks at The Front. That’s who I dated.”

Smugly he then replied, “Jackie, the bartender at The Front, WAS the dominatrix!”

In disbelief, I said, “Wha?”

“You mean to tell me, you were dating the dominatrix and you DIDN’T KNOW!?”

Tony who was, and still is, one of the most somber, darker individuals I know, never laughed so hard in his life.

I said, “Well how the hell was I supposed to know! She didn’t have whips or anything in her house! It’s almost as if she was going to church or something!”

Never before had I felt so cheated. I almost felt more cheated out of that, than the social security I’ll never get. She seemed like a normal, almost quiet-like girl. And then, seven years after the fact, I found out I was dating Minneapolis’ premiere dominatrix.

And thus concludes my bondage-a-go-go girl story.

Ah, Another Obama Supporter

Is it me, but do all the protesters and leftists have to look like they've just got out of rehab?

Just another reason to vote for McCain.

ht to SDA

Teen Pregnancy Rates

Yea for us. We come in first place in a competition we want to lose.

"ARE" Becoming Addicted?

What happened to the 60's?

Das Uber Nanny State

Liberals and leftists, to simplify, are not only cowardly, but insist their cowardice upon others. Why do I say this? Because they have not the appetite for risk. And if they have not the appetite to take a chance, then therefore neither should you, for by comparison then they would look all wimpy, and, well, liberal.

The reason I say this is because it seems liberals are against anything risky, and therefore anything fun. For fun is a direct function of risk.

For example smoking a cigar. Smoking a cigar is fun, but there is a risk (although minute) that you will contract cancer and die.

Fireworks, those are fun. Hell of a lot of fun. But one could blow up in your face and kill you, so you better stick with the "liberal's firework;" the sparkler.

Sports cars, ahhhh, lots of fun. But they go fast and you might crash into something. Better get a Prius.

Eating peanuts is fun too. But there's a 1 in a billion chance some kid some where might catch wind of your peanut odor and croak and die. So we ban peanuts from schools.

Everywhere, everything that brings us the slightest bit of joy or happiness, even if it isn't a vice, is under attack from those who want to rule over us in a totalitarian manner under the false guise of "being concerned for our safety."

Thus I was glad to see the odds of death published by The Economist by various accidents so as to see just how paranoid over-protective-anti-fun-fascist-nanny-state-leftists were.



The most common accident is poison, which would in my estimation warrant an overly protective mother to call poison control should her little children eat a mushroom.
But look at what almost every community organizer goes after like a pit bull to ban and wears a badge of honor should they manage to ban it;

Fireworks.

1 in 1.9 million chance of you getting killed by a firework. That meant if we all played with fire works and every American handled them and played with them dangerously every year only 150 of us would die.

You are even more likely to get killed by your PJ's catching afire at night than by getting killed by a firecracker. You are 20 times more likely to get killed by lightning than by a firework.

Of course, it doesn't matter what the chances are, there's still a chance. And therefore, still an excuse for the nazi's to tell you what you can and cannot do.

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