Why Is Mike Lee Such An Asshole?

I Have No Idea What This Is Supposed To MeanIt’s a question I’m sure we’ve all asked ourselves at some point but I think it bears repeating: why is he such an asshole?

Was his brain starved of oxygen at some critical juncture? Is it all an elaborate joke and he’s really Abby Hoffman? I once spent six weeks in Salt Lake City so I’m something of an expert on all things Utahan and I see no rational explanation for him. If he’d been born in, say, Oregon then you might be able to point to some geographical factor like the misalignment of electromagnetic poles at work. Or a childhood spent too close to high-voltage power lines. But in my time at SLC I didn’t actually witness anyone out on the streets howling at the moon. Mind you, they did remove all the mail boxes from city streets after the Trade Center attack and in 2003 they still hadn’t been replaced. So there was that.

So yesterday this senator introduced a bill to protect churches from the perils of marriage equality. Seriously. Or was it? Does a person like this actually believe any of the crap that is expelled from between his lips? Does Ted Cruz? Isn’t it mystifying when pundits declare someone like Cruz to be ‘brilliant’, ‘very bright’, or plain old ‘clever’?

Anyhow, Mike Defender-of-The-Family® Lee got together with David Vitter, Marco Rubio, Inhofe, Dopey, Sneezy, and Droopy to craft this important piece of legislation that will clearly go no place but will waste both time and money.

For your reading pleasure I supply a linque to The Blaze. I encourage you to check out the comments. Actually, I encourage you to check out the comments then watch Subway Rat for half an hour.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m out of vodka and that’s just NOT RIGHT.

24 Comments

Where are the photos of the pugs in the snow?

@Dodgerblue: No times for pugs when we have the hypnotic Ess Eff Subway Rat.

@Benedick: No vodka? And Noo Yawk State has fucked up liquor laws. You sure you’re going to score a bottle of Tito’s at the state-owned/whatever the fuck the law is store before the sun goes down?

@redmanlaw: Our pug #1 is like that at the vet’s if he dares to try to clip her nails. For little dogs who mostly like to eat, sleep, and party, get them out in the woods and they turn into miniature mastiffs bounding about rocks and chasing turkeys and deer. I’m taking pug #2 to the vet presently. She’s a very sweet dog.

@SanFranLefty: Not that bad: we can’t buy liquor in supermarkets but the stores are open till 9 or 10 and they open now on Sundays. Which is a great comfort in these trying times.

@SanFranLefty: I had a bottle of Tito’s once. Most of it disappeared into a certain Gen. HF.

Re liquor laws: My inlaws lived in Nova Scotia for several years in the late fifties and early sixties. Then, and for all I know, now you could only buy liquor at state stores. My inlaws were faithful customers. Because of my future father-in-law’s work schedule, it was usually his wife who did the weekly run. (That in itself was unusual in Antigonish, NS.) One week she noticed a lot of whispering and glee going on with the two clerks. The price of everything had gone up, and they could hardly wait for the reaction of a regular customer, an old Scotsman who lived deep in the woods somewhere.When they told him the new price, he didn’t bat an eyelash, just shelled out the extra coins needed and said nothing. They couldn’t resist asking what he thought about the rise in price. His reply: “It’s never yet reached its true value.”

@lynnlightfoot: in my next life I will be an old Scotsman living in the woods of Nova Scotia. Not having to talk to people or shave my legs sounds pretty fucking awesome.

@SanFranLefty: I like to fantasize about disappearing to the San Juan Islands, especially when the student loan collectors come a’knockin’.

@¡Andrew!: The San Juan Islands have been my fantasy escape destination ever since I read Madeleine L’Engle’s Certain Women.

@¡Andrew!: @Mistress Cynica: Rocky beaches. Ugh. Thumbs down. (Nojo, age 10)

Shortly after 9/11 I went out to mail a letter in Midtown. The mailbox, on 6th Avenue, was welded shut. OK. Maybe 2 years later I was again on 6th Avenue, and there was that mailbox (at least I’m pretty sure it was the same one). It was open for business. Live and learn.

@¡Andrew!: @Mistress Cynica: Apparently the secret with the San Juan Islands is to grow a shit-ton of ginormous vegetables in the 19 hours of sunlight you get in July and August, and can/preserve it all for the winter.

As much as I think I’d love San Juan Islands/Nova Scotia, that’s totally in the summer. The last thing my chronic depression needs is aggravation by winter seasons. I can barely handle “winter” in the Bay Area. If I could spend November-April in Argentina or Australia or South Africa or New Zealand, I’d be totally with it.

@nojo: Wow, young Mike Lee was an asshole too.

@SanFranLefty: Anyone called Mike Lee is an asshole. Doesn’t matter what age. Just the fact of the name. “Hello. I’m Mike Lee.’ “Well fuck you, asshole,” and you punch him. It is the only appropriate response.

If we’re fantasizing about CANADA might I suggest the Faroes? or motherfucking ICELAND, the most literate society on the planet and home to Haldor Laxness and Bjork? You won’t get SAD in winter on account of the Northern Lights, hot springs, hot Icelanders, and puffin stew. The trouble with New Zealand is the New Zealanders: they’re like boring Canadians without the glamor. Plus home of slave labor CGI droids in Birks obsessing about fucking hobbit wars in 3 D. Argentina means nothing to me: it’s like Arkansas or Oregon; I ‘m prepared to believe it exists but I want residuals first.

South Africa: as before, Frontiers. Count me in.

Pages 4.3 is repeatedly crashing on me causing me to lose work. I feel that Steve has personally let me down. I have worshipped at the place from whence all goodness flows – Cupertino – for lo these many years. I have turned my troll geld into stock. Yet still it crasheth. I have talked to Julie, and Michael, and Christina, and Nicholas, and Brandon of the priesthood. They have yet to cast the demon from my app so it crasheth not in the midst of work which pisseth me off mightily and causeth me to consider entering the desolation of Smaug via the purchasithing of WORD. But no, I resisteth. I trust in the elfin folk of Cupertino to rescueth me and restore my Holy Pages to as when it spun its magic on my hard drive…

I think it’s past bed time. We’ve got ten inches of snow. The pugs go outside, hold up their forepaws and weep. I beat them

@Benedick: and puffin stew

Please, no.

Jr. says, “Hi” and that he wants to meet Auntie Tommcatt and Dodger when we’re in LA. We fly in late on 1/2 and we leave late 1/7. We’ll be staying near the sandy beach. Sand. Eee. Nothing planned except a run to Magic Mountain and Hollywoodland. You will find us on the SANDY beach or on the pier.

Sun, sun, sun, here we come…

@JNOV: God bless you . You will no doubt also want to visit the relics of the Xerox GUIWhy The Fuck Didn’t We Know What The Fuck Was Going On shrine, or, if you will, the WTFWKWTFWGO shrine. Just down the canyon from the OMGIFHAAATFACWMMWTBTAAWAMS shrine. Nearby the rock from whence Jobs stepped onto the Pacific to calm storms and provide monster waves.

Chillax. Bros before literary agents.

@Benedick: Yeah. I keep reading that and laughing although the only part I understand is the literary agents business.

Oh. I see. Your shiteth crasheth most harshly. I’m 1/3 through the Scrivener tutorial, so yeah. Son says, “If you make something too user friendly, you sacrifice end user craftsmanship.” I think he means Paint vs. Photoshop. I can see how awesome Scrivener will be once I stop fucking around and learn how to use it. That’s my Technology is Frustrating update.

My mac won’t upgrade past Snow Leopard, so maybe that’s good.

@Benedick: I know someone who can help you with that lisp.

@JNOV: Here is an important question: is your son old enough to drink in California (21) ?

@SanFranLefty: Howdy from El Calafate Argentina – a good place to spend a week in Diciembre.

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