i mean, come on dude. seriously.

let me just say that in an effort to not only be a clairvoyant, but to convey a sense of immediacy and gravity regarding a situation concerning the inner workings of the White House, i concluded that the vice president would be indicted.

richard cheney, the vice president of the united states of america, has not been indicted.

the speculation can be read below in previous posts.

i just wanted to acknowledge i jumped the gun thinking that ol' 'uberticker' wouldn't outlast every one of these punk-assed bitches.

Worst Week Ever: The Indictment Vol. 1/No. 1

more on the g.dubya front. i. lewis "scooter" libby resigns as dick cheney's chief of staff just before his indictment on five counts is handed down by special prosecutor fitzgerald. turd blossom escaped the sinkhole for now, but will still be under investigation for some time.

and in what has become the bush administration's kneejerk response to any potentially damaging shit coming from the sphincter that is the current white house, dubya hit the road to deliver a speech on the war on terror.

"Now remember, kids. I'm the guy protecting you from the evildoers and other assorted terrorist folk traipsing 'round the hinterlands of afghanistan n' iraq. the only thing standing between al qaeda and your local wal*mart is me and my administration. 9/11. I'll say it again. 9/11."

meanwhile, harriet miers withdraws her nomination, making it possible for ann coulter to spew her venom towards the left once again. after having walked through that gauntlet of public humiliation en route to a confirmation hearing that never was to be, methinks dubya owes harriet miers an apology. ha ha ha. good luck.

oh yeah, 2000+ U.S. soldiers killed in iraq. exit strategy? yeah, right.

on the bright side: exxonmobil made more money in the last quarter than the world's largest company, general electric, made in all of last year. buy those oil stocks now, kids.

dubya on the white sox: a conversation imagined.

his father was there behind home plate, root-root-rooting for the home team. mama bush was there, too... physically. mentally, she looked like she was one misplaced tin foil-wrapped teabag away from dementia as bush elder had to roust her out of her apparent stupor to inform her of key plays and strike outs.

alas, the good guys (as they're known in the city of broad shoulders) took it to the astros, and earned chicago its first world series title in 88 years. here's how dubya might sum up the sox sweep, with all his eloquent-manque straight talk:

"It's a good day for the White Sox. Good day for Chicagoans. And it's a good day for, uh, anyone who likes winning. Show me someone who doesn't like winning, I'll show you a loser. That's what makes this country great, is that we're a country of winners. Do I feel bad that my father's team was swept in the series? Not particularly, truth be told. I'm a Rangers fan. Sure, some of you folks in the press corps'll find a way to position this as another example of how I don't see eye-to-eye with a certain former president. And that'd just be the media fictitionalizing the truth. Whatever the case, congratulatories are in order for the White Sox, the White Sox organization, and I'd like to give a shout out to Ozzie Guillen. Love that accent. God bless 'merica."

the heart identifies with the nature of this ground

this is soho in manhattan sometime in late summer, 2005. i was initially going to write about how the hollowness of the sidewalk is a reflection of the people who frequent the shops south of houston: what was once the domain of the starving artist squatting in a massive loft with eight other like-minded expressionists is now a bastion of euro labels and euro ubertrash and trustafarians and tourists from the heartland who lust after iPods. but then i was thinking that would just be a bitter diatribe. and the bitter diatribe is getting old. so, when i figure out a little ditty to accompany this pic, i'll post the nugget for all the b'sphere to see. until then...

kate moss gets all e.e. cummings up in a motherf*cker

a friend emailed me a news report alleging kate moss has turned to poetry as she weathers the publicity maelstrom surrounding her cocaine use.

we did some digging and found a nugget of her newfound wisdom:

What Matters is What Is Underneath
by Katherine Taylor Ubaldine Mossberg

What matters is what's underneath
What lies beneath this pure silk sheath
Is skin tattered and torn from my days as a cutter
And a touch of flab from a binge with a yummy stick of butter.

What matters is what you can't see
Those inner parts that define me
A will that aches for one more taste
Of rock cocaine that I can freebase

What matter most is not for your eyes
Funny, I'm a model, pretty, such irony
You think this is some god damned joke
But I'm telling all you bitches what matters is my coke.

What you think this fuckin is?
Some finishing school for aristocratic kids?
I'm a supermodel, bitches, this shit is for real
Unless you're gooped up on the glop, how are you supposed to deal?
One minute you're sashaying all over the place
And the next, Naomi bitch slaps you across your face.
If you have to ask why, I'm afraid you'll never know
Quit breathing so hard on the mirror, girl, you're fucking with my blow.

What matters most is underneath
The parts of which you'll never see
97 pounds of bone and skin
and enough cocaine to do a motherfucker in.

Sylvia Plath ain't got shit on me. Kate Moss what?! What!?

Cheney Indictment?

Methinks Dick Cheney is going to get indicted along with his chief of staff Scooter Libby and MC Karl Rove. Which would then force Bush to appoint a new VP. Dubya, as is his wont, will choose a crony by the name of Dr. Condoleezza Rice. Think about it, and whiel you do, I'll be mulling over how this blog o'mine should not be political in nature.

in the crosswalk...

here's a moment ripe for reworking in a blog. running into a coworker at a streetlight.

everybody's doing it, so why can't i?

if this thing catches on, the sky could be the limit.