Our Predictions for 2009

Most honest predictions for 2009.

karmack! god, i lerve you nojo.
my prediction: i will continue to know it’s your post just from the picture.

FWIW, here’s some predictions from guests and listeners on “Coast to Coast AM” fka “The Art Bell Show.”:

http://www.coasttocoastam.com/shows/2009/01/01.html

http://www.coasttocoastam.com/shows/2008/12/30.html

Prediction for “Space Ghost Coast to Coast” were unavailable at time of posting.

@ the Lefty family: Too bad you’re not eligible for the Indian Health Service, where Tylenol is routinely dispensed for chest pains subsequent autopsies reveal to be related to heart disease.

April 10: Chrysler folds, throwing tens of thousands of Detroiters out of work overnight.

April 12: Detroit Red Wing fans show up at United Center for regular-season finale against the Hawks, and still have a sense of entitlement.

(No, I’m not bitter about yesterday’s loss. Seriously, I’m not — I was grinning like an idiot throughout the day. Wrigley was painfully awesome yesterday, notwithstanding the fact that Detroit Fan was doing the Detroit Fan thing. Meanwhile, I regret that my brother nabisco committed blasphemy yesterday for saying that he doesn’t care about hockey. Perhaps someday he will see the error of his ways.)

I have to say that it was hard to feel pessimistic about things yesterday while driving around town on errands on a beautiful warm January day.

The RMLs are going for Texas Tech in the Cotton Bowl today. Mrs RML got her journalism degree there while running into the likes of Joe Strummer, Joe Ely, Natalie Maines from the Dixie Chicks as the young daughter of legendary steel guitar player Lloyd Maines, Talking Heads on their way up, the Ohio Players on their way down, and the Bus Boys on their way to obscurity while an entertainment reporter there. John Hinkley was at Tech for a while when she was there, which drew the national media to Lubbock when scion of big money GOP popped a cap in Ronnie’s ass.

In re pessimism, there is this niceish fluff story out of ABC Philadelphia about a guy who bought some shirts at a thrift store and ended up with heavy-duty gold cufflinks belonging to VPEOTUS Plugz. Which reaffirms the spirit of man — a spirit which was of course crushed by this comment [situated, as always, in context] from the educated masses:

Wear the cufflinks of someone that belives in murdering babies??? I’d rather use them for TP.

Sometimes, when I read comments left by wingers, I experience a moment of total clarity and consciousness. I just had such a moment.

Remember: you can’t spell “fundie” without “fun.” Just try and do it.

@chicago bureau: Honey, thx to their homeskooling that evolution and gravity is just a theory, they probably spell it phundie.

@Nojo: I’m sure that our friend Chainsaw would argue that your prediction for January isn’t a sure thing.

@SanFranLefty: Yes, I will believe it when I see it (either in person or in a bar).

Food riots, martial law, some insane spasmodic external war sparked by some revolution in a nuclear country which allows nutjobs to push the button, the breakdown of society, and the emergence of roving, armed cannabalistic bands fighting amid the ruins for the remaining supplies. Its just a question of timing.

@chicago bureau: So the fundies wipe their asses with cuff links. Just one more addition to the long and growing list of sexual perversions performed behind closed doors while Jeebus’ picture lies face down on the nightstand.

Happy new year everybody!

I predict there will be Sport. There will be teams. Some will win and some will lose. And most everybody else will talk about it.

Oh, and pay for the fucking stadiums with tax dollars!!!!!!

@chicago bureau: My apologies. When I say I don’t “care” about hockey I don’t mean it in a NASCAR or synchonized swimming kind of “don’t care”. I played street hockey as a kid and even fell under the spell of the Broad Street Bullies in the 70s. I’m glad hockey exists, we just couldn’t find time for each other in our lives and have chosen to move in separate directions.