Wailing Into The Void

Since I declared the Tampa Bay Rays for real they have gone 5-8.  I may be less in touch with reality than I previously thought.

A recent study on taste perceptions and product preferences suggests that what we like to eat may say a lot more about us than we realize.

I would have the Presidential election decided by a straight-up game of HORSE.

The heat has been sapping my will to blog.  I will get back on the horse this evening, I promise.

From last night’s All-Star game:

1.  First time I saw a stealth bomber in person.

2.  First time I saw the Village People in person.

3.  First time I stood and cheered when a Red Sox homered. 

Things aren’t always as bad as they first appear.

Maybe I should be jaded and cynical enough at this point not to be surprised that this guy has been involved in helping interrogators hone their torture techiniques. Instead it feels like I just found out that Santa Claus likes to throw rocks at black kids.

We’ve already heard from Dimitri the Lover. Now it’s Khan’s turn.

So far, we’ve had “Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Iran” and yesterday’s cigarette zinger. I can’t wait for Gramps to blow us all away with the best Killing Iranians Joke ever.

The Iraqis are calling for timelines for withdrawal of coalition troops, which simply means that we can expect to hear a brand new reason why we can’t leave Iraq just yet.