Pajama Pundits

I liked this. A lot. I'll buy if the guy records a CD.

Tigerhawk obviously wasn't the last one to see this.

American Digest.

Unless... it's barbecue and beer.

Glenn Reynolds, up until this morning a source of generally sage wisdom, has revealed he is not a fan of Texas barbecue.

I won't bother emailing him to set him straight as many Texans and Texans at heart have already roasted him. He's reconsidering his position and an across-the-nation barbecue tour. Out of fairness, of course.

At least he had the sense not to diss Shiner Bock, which Pulled Pork Buster, Josh Wills, rightly notes is another reason why Central Texas (and it's BBQ) is a great place.

I admire all the people on both sides of the political divide who can keep up with all the rumors, twists and turns, but I'm not that interested. Yet. Maybe if somebody actually gets indicted and there are some facts to chew on instead of the empty calories of speculation... maybe.

Until then, Dr. Sanity has the best take on the whole thing - The Name of Plame Makes Everyone Insane.

Althouse commenters have a Bulwer-Lytton contest.

My vote goes to:

The cool mist of the morning passed over the hood of his car like Cool Whip over a Jello dish at a Methodist Ladies Wednesday Night dinner meeting. It briefly wrapped his car in a sheath of mystery, an enigma as puzzling as the current situation and the surprise eggroll on his lunch plate the day before.

It was a difficult decision, but the correctness, the absolute perfection of the prose engulfed me as a gentle burning burp reminded me of the Ziti Surprise the strangely dressed and oddly smelling Sinners for Scratch were selling to raise funds for the Karl Rove Did It Memorial.

ohnevermind...

No contest, you're thinking? Bloggledygook has evidence you're thinking right. (via HEH.)

Here.

Or: Momma moonbat gets an early Christmas present.

It all unfolded exactly as planned. A self-serving publicity hound set out to get arrested and got her wish. After being told several times to move on, people who broke the law got arrested... and I'm sure the President will get all the 'bad press' from the scenario. I'd quote in the relevant text, but it's couched in too much glorification for my tastes. If you want to read what little there is about it, go here.

Sheehan is a lost soul who is disgracing the memory of her son for her own selfish reasons. That's all I'm going to say on the subject.

UPDATE (by Donna B.) - The photo of the arrest.

And let this be his campaign slogan:

(via Ace of Spades)

UPDATE: Video here.

UPDATE II: Of course I was laughing when I typed the title to this post, but it's not that bad an idea. Gen. Honore is capable, competent, organized, honest, respected by those who work with him... all perfect opposites of the Louisiana politician. (There may be exceptions. Please put examples in the comments!)

There is a Recall Kathleen Blanco site up. I've requested a petition to sign. Even if ultimately unsuccessful, I think this is a worthwhile effort for at least two reasons:

1. Louisianans have accepted that political corruption is a way of life here. Maybe we have some variation of Stockholm Syndrome.

2. Such a petition could serve as a sort of wake-up call for other public servants in the state, all the way down to dogcatcher. They'd likely hit the snooze button, but with the voters having set the alarm, it's unlikely all of them would toss the clock out the window.

In California, prior to the successful recall of Gov. Gray Davis, only four of more than 107 recall efforts since 1911 qualified for the ballot. We've got to start somewhere.

Another thing we can do is tell our lawmakers we'd like to be able to recall them a little more easily. Of course, they're not going to like that idea, but they might throw a bone or two our way. Mostly Cajun sums up what it currently takes to recall an elected official here:

...the state legislature provided that a recall election requires a petition with hand-written signatures of a THIRD of registered voters, with a separate petition filed in each of Louisiana’s 64 parishes (counties) within 180 days of the filing of the original petition of recall.

I don't know if the statute has been refined by court decisions, but it could use some clarification. At first, it doesn't appear that a petition must be filed in each parish, as the "voting area" for governor is the entire state. Then again, it later says that "The signed and dated petition shall be submitted to the registrar of voters for each parish within the voting area..." Does this mean a third of voters in each parish must sign or that if a third statewide sign, that at least one signature in each parish is required?

The least the legislators could do is clear up what they mean.

The applicable code is here: Louisiana Revised Statutes Title 18. Louisiana Election Code, Chapter 6-C. Recall Elections, § 1300.2. Petition for recall election; campaign finance disclosure.

UPDATE III: There's now another website devoted to the recall of Gov. Blanco - R.E.C.A.L.L.

Ann Althouse links this morning to a Robin Givhan article in the LA Times on the Dove advertising campaign featuring "real" women's bodies.

There's no real disagreement here with the conclusion:

It's healthy to occasionally pull back the curtain and remind readers of what most of them already know. Fashion is not truth. That has always been the operating principle of the business. Fashion is extravagance and incongruity, elegance and rebellion. It is envy and exclusivity. All of that may have been epitomized by Richard Avedon's 1955 image of the lithe model Dovima posing in a Christian Dior gown in front of a line of elephants.

All it takes to verify that fashion and reality have a limited relationship is an occasional visit to Manolo's Shoe Blog.

It is reassuring to occasionally see the machinations of the magician. It's nice to be presented with a female physique that is a little more accessible. And it is good to see the beauty fantasy broadened to include attributes such as strength and endurance. But no one wants to feel as though they've stumbled into the ladies locker room or caught their neighbors in their skivvies.

Given the news stories I’ve read about unauthorized photos of everyday people in just such situations showing up on porn sites, I wouldn’t go so far as to say no one wants that.

And just to prove that reality according to Dove may very well be inspiring, just take a look at their portrayal of Real Beauty:

Not exactly disheartening, are they?

However, if Nike listens to Givhan,

Perhaps Nike's next ad blitz should include a chubby lady with wobbly thighs. Her arms could be raised in victory as she wheezes across the one-mile marker.

I'll be there auditioning for that spot.

My brother has always shared his Texas Bar Journals with me, because I love Jerry Buchmeyer's et cetera.

Why I didn't find the blog, Say What?! before dear brother sent me a link today is beyond me.

Remedial French Kissing 100 for law nerds.

"A man full of bile is not fit to pronounce on food."

Perhaps he needs a digestive?

After celebrating our independence from the British yesterday, today I feel compelled to defend them.

For breakfast this morning, I think I'll have beans on toast.

UPDATE: London's bid for Olympics looking good.

~Phone rings~

Youngest daughter on other end...

"Mom, are you at your computer? We're at a restaurant, would you look up something for us? This is really bothering us..."

"Sure, what is it?" I ask, as I sit down to fire up the browser.

"Who wrote Hungarian Rhapsody?" she asks.

"Rachmaninoff." I answer, confidently. No need to Google that.

"No, no... that's what your perfect son-in-law thinks." [So, what more proof do you want? Your husband and your mother, both couldn't be wrong could they?] "It starts with an "S", the composer's name, but I can't think of it right now."

"Shostakovich?" I ask.

"Yes! that's it!" I hear her convey this info to her husband, as confident in Shostakovich as I am in Rachmaninoff.

By that time, this Google page is staring at me.

Heh.

Massachusetts gains ground in my personal opinion poll of the various states.

•What shall I call thee when thou art a man?

•I don't think you are a fool, but what's my opinion compared to that of thousands of others?

•Not even Hercules could knock your brain out, as you have none.

•I used to think that you were a colossal pain in the neck.

•Now I have a much lower opinion of you.

•I desire we be better strangers.

•Someone said that you were not fit to slop pigs the other day. I stuck up for you, though. I told them you were.

•I was seeking for a fool when I found you.

•You're not yourself today. I noticed the improvement immediately.

•You've reached rock-bottom and still digging.

•If bald, you would have more hair than wit.

•Oh dear, somebody forgot to water you this week, didn't they?

•Let's meet as little as we can.

•If you grasp your ears and firmly pull, I think you can get your head out of there.

•Whoever told you to be youself couldn't have given you worse advice.

•Your confusion rivals Adam's on Mother's Day.

I made this list years ago, I don't even remember who I was thinking of when I compiled it... and now I'm throwing that scrap of paper away, along with tons of other scraps of paper I've saved over the years. Why did I think I'd need every single utility bill we've paid since... 1990?

Back to housekeeping now. A huge box of photos awaits my attention.

Oh... please Google! Please let this post be on the first page of search results for "Where is my cell phone?" Because, I really, really, really want to tell my husband, when he asks me that question (and he will...) that maybe we should look on the internet for it.

UPDATE: "where is my cell phone"

Thanks to the Songstress' s Rendition of the Carnival of Recipes at News from the Great Beyond, and to Cathouse Chat and David of third world county, who may still be searching for his car keys.

In the Future, Everyone Will Be Hitler For 15 Minutes.

Back in the 80's, in a discussion of my management style, I was called a Hitler. Those who personally know me will not be surprised that I was 'fashionable' long before it was fashionable. Or, something like that.

If a plan to tax Rude, Crude, and Socially Unacceptable behavior is to be workable, there should be a simple test to determine who should be taxed and who might qualify as exempt.

I propose this form: Application for Waiver of Rude, Crude, and Socially Unacceptable Status.

The simple part is that everyone is taxable, until the waiver is applied for, and their status as Socially Acceptable has been formally approved.