Well, Good.

This was a most bountiful week for Dear Leader's non-fans. We had a general get himself kicked off the boat, on purpose (read the Rolling Stone article...he wanted to fall on his sword). He was there and saw the decrepitude of the youngsters playing games with the lives of other youngsters in combat gear. This not so bright young man (Obama) is surrounded by feebs who think they can run the country, a couple of wars, and business, not to mention my Pay Toilet Stalls if I gave them a chance. But I didn't take any tarp money, thank you very much, and we still shit like grown men. These men and women on Obama's staff, in their dilapidated state couldn't wipe Ronald Reagan's ass. Even now, when I assume it's pretty damn clean!

A federal judge saved a mega amount of jobs by allowing Gulf deep water drilling to continue, telling the President to eat him. And Mr. Obama looked limp. He looked like the skinny little, lightweight that he is, trying to fit into Harry Truman suit (whatever you think about THAT president, at least he knew what he was doing, even when moved around the statecraft in jerks and spits, and jolts). Truman was a pimp for the Pendergast gang and then for Roosevelt, until he got the reins and thought maybe he was president.

So..we little 'un's on the on the right side of history got some good snorts and laughs (beer was coming out of my nose) over our current president's light footed approach to governing. Yeah, he fired McChrystal, but what else was he gonna do, and still look like he had his hand on the steering wheel as the car of state continues to move backwards at an alarming speed? All the while, the president waves like good old Pope Roosevelt. I like the sense of my imagination working so that Mr. Obama is driving backwards in the Presidential limo, eventually ramming us into Cuba. If this was Bill Clinton, some girl with steering wheel marks on her back would have gone National Enquirer.

And all of this could not come at much of a better time. Ramping up to the mid-terms, the Tea Parties, libertarians, real conservatives, are poised to strike and take back the country.

And weakness in Obama is so sweet.

Thanks, my man!


Joe

Father's Day

Yesterday I was checking out some movies from the library when the librarian stopped and asked me if I had an Uncle or a Father who used to check out books.

My Dad, dead 17 years tomorrow, on what was also then a Father's Day began to read more as he got older. Not working in retirement and long days getting longer, drew him to the library. He began to treasure his card.

I asked the librarian if she remembered his old key shop at Ward's Corner, or maybe the baseball caps with the names of his grandchildren he now wore everyday. That was it. The nice man with the caps. She smiled broadly at the memory of Dad, quiet, but always ready to take on a conversation, even if he felt ill. I wonder if she noticed my smile. For whenever someone remembers Dad, after all these years, and with so many of his contempoaries gone too, I smile. And cry some.

Irving Postove would be 88 now. Baseball hats and books.

I'll never be a father, but I got my father's day gift yesterday.

Joe

These Are The Good Times

In Hell!

President Obama sat down with the CEO of BP today (which I think was very unfair...the President sat on a big chair in the throne room, sucking on oranges, grapes, and assorted goods, while the old man from BP had to take his pants off, sit on the White house toilet...which is supported by the taxbunnies) and came to the "agreement" that BP would set up a 20 BILLION dollar fund to help those blasted by the explosion.

Dear Leader came down off of the Throne, put the BP exec into a toe-hold and said unless you come up with the cash, I'm going to let the Muslim brotherhood have some fun with you (gee I hope they wern't naked). I'm not saying he couldn't have had fun with Mohammed's boys, but I'm going to err on the side of the BP guy not being aware of what the boys do when Dear Leader calls them out for special occasions like this.

Look, girls, the federal switchblade is a mighty mighty sword, and with all those threats and the President holding the knife to BP's neck, he came up with the cash. Check please.

Obama said that a "third party" would be responsible for keeping the tote board on claims. So who does he pick? Kenneth Feinberg, the former Czar of the 9/11 check cutting enterprise. This is Dear Leader's idea of an unattached third party. Feinberg is an insider, and ain't no "man in the middle". Obama's in charge, and will take the credit should we succeed in cleaning this thing up and compensating all of the folks down there who are taking this big mud bath.

However....if we fail, and this thing becomes another end of the world, then the blame goes to BP. Funny how the government is stink free.

Now...on to the greening of the world!

joey

Happy Birthday Gomer

Gollllllllllllly! Can you believe it? Jim Nabors is 80 years old today. His late husband, Rock Hudson would now be nearly 85. Yikes.

Our memories of Jim are of course almost singularly of his wonderful portrayal of Gomer Pyle on "The Andy Griffith Show" and then the spin off "Gomer Pyle, USMC". They were and remain two of the finest achievements of sitcomania out of Hollywood. He could sing like a streak of lightning too. But I never bought a Jim Nabor's record. My money went to trash, like Yoo-Hoo's and malted milks. Oh, the many malted milks I had while watching Jim as Gomer freak old Sargent Carter out, only to have Sarge remorseful in the end. Ooooo. The internet guard, here at the library, says to cheese it on too much talk of Gomer and Sgt. Carter and their ends. Yeah, I can dig it it man. There must be video somewhere though, huh?

But such things we should avoid as we celebrate Jim Nabor's birthday. Let us celebrate the man, his fine fine comedic voice, and crystal clearing throat. Let us wish him many more happy days ahead, with satisfaction in life, and his goal of moving the Whopper from Big Boy's to Burger King.

Good luck Gomer. We love you!

Lil' Joey Postove

Heatie

Norfolk is damn hot today. And I don't mean that in the good sense, in that you would like to take Norfolk out to a boat show, or downtown to a pay toilet, or maybe take in a movie at the film center just to show her off.

No, just hot. Like a million degrees Fahrenheit. Lots of sun (I gloobed on the sunscreen today, and I still feel like Granny after a lye soap bath). Now, of course I don't attribute any of this to global warming. This is happening because the Earth is being pushed by Martian hermaphrodites closer to the sun, so that Mars can catch a breeze when Venus swings by on the 20th of the month. Goddamn Mars! Bastards up there, with an inferior society (they don't have sex, or Nehi drinks, or tater tots, or any kind of tots as far as know). I have not made a thorough study of the subject. I just know what the folks at my pay toilets tell me.

That's another thing. Business at the pay stalls is off by half because of the hot weather. People, whoever they may be, hermie's, trans, gays, regulars, Orthodox Jews, Quakers, and all of the others who have their own special toilets are so beaten down by the hotness of God Almighty's ass perfume, that they can't even make it downtown to my commodes. And I am even providing free transportation for anyone who calls or telegraphs me down at the stalls. I'll send one of the kids from school with her wagon to pick you up, and carry you down for cut rate pee's and shit's. That right folks...I said cut rate. A #1 is now only a nickle and plop plops (under 10 minutes of course) are just a dime.

Won't you all come on out to our wonderful pay toilets? I'm on my knees here, folks. Cash supply is so low, that last night, I went to the bowling alley and stole some balls and pins. I made a buck on 'em.

Tomorrow we'll be serving watermelon, fried chicken, pizza, tacos, malted milks, toast and jam, and tater tots for the kids. There will be free balloons and rectal exams for the seniors. Open 24 hours a day, but come early. Please be a responsible citizen. Use our receptacles, and leave the 7/11 cups alone!

We'll all have a great time. My leg hurts.

Joe

They're Pumping As Fast As They Can

BP (you bet your bippy) has taken full responsibility for the spill in the Gulf of Mexico, and has said they will pay all costs associated with the accident. I said accident. It was an accident. Meaning they did not do it on purpose, wishing against all hell that this had not happened, and have begged forgiveness from we the American people. The same American people who for generations have benefited from BP's scientific prowess and have swilled enough of BP's business genius to choke an elephant with a pretty big carbon footprint (they have those too, do they not?).

Yet, one of President Obama's henchmen, one of the first out of the gate to take charge, said that the boot of the government would be held fast onto BP's neck until they got all this shit cleaned up. Words to that effect anyway. I have yet to cease to be amazed at the hubris of those in government who "keep their boots on the neck of business" yet if business were to say, "OK, big boy, you fix it" the government would shit in its pants big time, probably requiring them to get some old treasury notes out of the closet to wipe themselves with.

The arrogant slobs. BP won't walk away, because they are and have proven to be a good corporate citizen, who when they foul up (and this was the mother of them) steps up to the plate and bows its head, and do a cool Stepin' Fetchit act to show that they know who's boss. Ain't that right boss?

On the other hand, when our Dear Leader or any of our past Dear One's make a mistake, well, they do take full blame and responsibility for it. And then go out and write about it in their ghostwritten autobiographies.

The question is not whether or not to give BP a break. They are not asking for one. They took blame before anyone had the chance to vilify all of capitalism. Capitalism made our world. When there are mistakes, the system corrects itself. And when they transgress Almighty government, they bow and scrape. And they still go ahead, head down, and fix the problem. Which is what BP will do.

I'd still like to see Obama try to take control of pumping that slicker out. He is so good at that. Or they say so, anyhow.

Joe

RIP Art Linkletter

Not having a TV or Internet connection at home leaves me out of the scheme of breaking news, so it was only today that I found out about the death of Art Linkletter.

I loved him. I feigned illness many times just to stay home, naked and free, in order to watch "Art Linkletter's House Party". Art made me feel good, like someone talking directly to me, and not through me, like today's dumb TV MC's. He was funny, cute with the kids at the end of the show, a consummate broadcaster (one of the very finest...I am hard pressed to name another MC type who was better or more influential than Art). Who needed..who wanted..who cared a damn about learning arithmetic, history and all the other gradeschool bullshit, when Art was on TV teaching us how to be nice. And nice and clever. He had no fear (watch the kids say the darnedest shit sector of the show at the end) and he was smart.

Now you didn't have to be smart to be on TV (watch a 60's sitcom or five) but when one person had all of the qualities of Art Linkletter and every single day he made you feel that the world was just alright man, love was not a strong enough emotion for me. I think I idealized him like good old Loretta Young, but differently, somehow.

His private life was another question, losing a couple of kids tragically, and some more who got old before he died. But I care about as much about Art's private life as I do about his privates (and at 98, they must have been down to his knees).

He was my friend, though I never knew him. He was the best scout leader, though I was never a scout. I could relax with Art, and feel clean afterward.

As you all know, we have been having the annual Art Linkletter picnic and birthday party each year on his birthday, July 12th. This year, I'll just stay in bed, and miss my good good friend.

God bless you Art Linkletter. And thanks for all of the sunshine.

Joe Postove