Random things that never quite blossomed into blog posts

Occasionally I'll start a blog post and either get distracted, or just blow it off as something I don't want to follow up on. And then sometimes some odd snippet of an idea will hit me and I'll jot down something, never to return to it.

So, as next week I'll be heading off on a month-long vacation and really won't be doing much writing whatsoever, I figured I'd dedicate a post to these half-baked thoughts, in their raw form:

This is pretty self-explanatory, but I just never completed the whole thought:

John Edwards: He needs to take one for the team

Like Al Gore before him, the media has made it clear that John Edwards is their whipping boy in 2008. So he just needs to suck it up and take the abuse.

But just to show Edwards that I'm not one to expect sacrifice from someone without giving something in return, let me hereby disqualify myself from being involved with any candidate of any type for the foreseeable future.


Wow, that Jesus, he sure fucked prostitutes, didn't he?

That oughta do it.

Another one I got distracted from:

From Jill Lawrence's gushing article on Rudy Giuliani in USA Today:

"Suffice it to say Republicans have never had a presidential candidate like this — half Woody Allen, half Rambo and 100% cerebral."

And 33% able to stay married.

Ok, I don't know what I intended with this:

Living in a world where Extreme's Hole Hearted wasn't universally worshipped was confusing and senseless to him.

Or this:

You know, honey is essentially bee cum.

This started out with promise I thought, but just sort of sat there, waiting for more words that never came:

"My Fellow Americans, Osama bin Laden ... IS RIGHT BEHIND YOU! RUN! To Walmart, where if you buy two lawn deck chairs you get half off the third. Thank you and God Bless America."

Pretty much the same with this:

Reagan looked up from the desk, his eyes crazed and his face covered in cocaine.

"Fuck Grenada. Yeah, that's right fuck them. And Bush, who the fuck told you to stop sucking my cock?! Work it, bitch!

The Press Secretary sighed. It was going to be another one of those days.

And again, I just never worked this into anything:

If George W. Bush were a tree, he'd be a fascist, asshole tree

Thanks for letting me clean out the closet, as it were.


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