Harry Shearer’s Le Show (Podcastable and online) had a song this week dedicated to the market woes called ‘Dead Cat Bounce’, and it’s priceless. Here’s some of the lyrics.
You know things were getting depressing.
Hard to shake free of our cares.
Couldn’t buy my car on credit.
Baby was selling her shares.
Then when the news seemed the darkest,
Here comes the best news yet:
They were doing the dead cat bounce,
Just watchin’ the big bulls pounce,
When only one day counts,
That’s when you do the dead cat bounce.
Two days later we sliding,
Right back into the hole,
Red arrows pointed downward,
Warnings blacker than coal.
You know baby was pruning her Christmas list,
eBay had my guitar.
Sure didn’t feel like dancing,
Until we heard this news from afar.
They were doing the dead cat bounce,
Stocks rising obscene amounts,
Only in my dream accounts,
Could we do the dead cat bounce...
Remember the $400 Dollar Haircut..?
Considering Palin? We know what she is, the rest is, as the slight goes, a mere negotiation, after she’d spent, or allowed to be spent on her, $150,000 on clothes and such, which may or may not have come from outfitting the whole dysfunctional family or not, including $13,000 dollars for her makeup in September alone. McCain only spent $8,672.55, so WTF, y'all...
Then again, Cindy McCain spent $400,000 on one Convention outfit, but to be fair, the earrings took up the biggest chunk of it, but still, the left is the party of the Elitists, right?
Then again again, the GOP is desperate to win this Idarod, so I guess they’ll see it as, well again, lipstick on a pig time. They have the boys in the lap futzing with her hair, her makeup, her ‘vage, to create that totally natural, Milf-Hunter persona she’s supposed to be. It’s like those comic colored scenes in some underground lab where Dr. Horrible is arguing with another mad scientist over what to add to the superweapon, one that will make them invincible...
To to put too fine a point on it, but they’re losing. And losing big. And bad. Personally, once you’ve jumped the shark and try to paint your opponent as the Anti-Christ, and it still doesn’t work, it’s time to stick a fork in it and call it done. Nothing left but to sweep up the confetti and staff who’d passed out weeping and drunk. Those who’d hadn’t faxed their resumés out by then.
And even if Obama, on the Inaugural Stage, suddenly were to confess that he was the Antichrist? I can see the collective national shrug and saying of “At least he’s not Bush.”
That’s where they are now, the GOP, the Republicans. Worst than Satan. And these days, there are two types or Republicans, the Wealthy and Suckers. The rest seem to be disillustioned racists and crybabies of all stripes. Let's drag them all into the 21st Century, kicking and screaming, have them grow up, or let them rot like the Confederates the seem to be proud of in some time-lost world of Conservative superiority and Ethel Gas...
As For Me...?
My brain has been as reliable as a $2 Wham-O gizmo as of late. Headaches, spins, Drops in pressure. Not good, but it’s getting better. I’m going to be working the ticket booth at the Exotic Erotic Ball this weekend, so if we do meet, I’ll pretend I don’t know y’all.
One More Thing...
McCain’s gotten the endorsement of Osama Bin Laden. Buh, bye...
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