WikiLeaks

WikiLeaks has done it again, releasing "classified" documents on the web. Firstly, how "classified" can they be when some website gets a hold of them and gushes forth with the cream? The United States government is mad (they seem to always have a burr under their ass) that Wiki has continued to attain these oh so dear documents from who, I don't know. Who's on first? I don't know is on second. Who's in charge?

Whoever is releasing these documents is obviously a government insider who thinks that that there are TOO MANY SECRETS and letting these papers loose (even at the risk of some lives) is a very good way to make it more difficult for the USA to engage operatives in foreign countries to help us in endless adventures around the world. This is the endless war plan of Dick Cheney's and company in an attempt to keep the military industrial complex running with hot grease. After all, GE's gotta eat too, huh? They eat, and have our young eaten by the endless wars.

What happened to my god-damned peace dividend? By easily hiring home grown informants, the US has ramped up our ability to hop scotch around the world, from country to country, to make the world safe for democracy. Yeah. How about making the USA safe for a little freedom, once in a while.

Iran is next. The big boys, who play on both Bush's and Obama's teams, without regard to the color of the ball, want to put some boots on the neck of Iran before they get a bomb. They care about Israel (some are from the Jewish Lobby...take it from this Jew, there is a big Jewish Lobby in this country) and others feel a brotherly or paternal love for the Jewish state.

Here we are again. New boss, same as...you know. Are we going to war with Iran to protect Israel? Wanna see Jerusalem blow up real good? Give that a try. All we need to do is what we do with the crazy guy in North Korea. Make it well known that if Iran successfully uses nukes against our lovers in Israel, we'll paste 'em. I don't like the idea of being Israel's mommy. But we took her on, so we have to babysit until we can get her to grow up a little.

If there is Nuclear Iran, then we just contain her. In a little box, maybe a red one like the one we bought for North Korea. And let her know that she shan't blow up no Jews, ya' hear? If she does...KABOOM...all over Persia. We'll miss you. But The Iranians are thick with influence from the west, and are in many respects more of a westerly than a middle easterly state. She knows which side her nubbin's are buttered on.

Which, briefly brings me back to WikiLeaks. If we are unable to successfully attain allies in Iran, with the government liberals (!) and the reformists afraid of their names hoisted onto a website, where the chance they will be killed is good and plenty, then the US will...must refrain from sticking our nose under the Persian tent, or anyone else's for that matter.

We get to stay home. And let the rest of the world sort out their problems for once.

I'll bet they can. Give them a chance. Without the expectation of Uncle Sam leaping tall buildings in a single bound to save them and the rest of the world, the rest of the world is on their own.

And we get to nap some. And rid ourselves of our own Un-American politicos with a good dousing of tea.

Joe Postove

Dr. Laura Schlessinger's "word"

I don't listen to the good doctor unless there is absolutely nothing else decent on the radio (so I do listen to her from time to time, huh?) so I didn't hear her so called rant where she said the "N" word 11 times. I know what the "N" word is, so no kidding, let's sort out this extreme political correctness gone over the hill.

She said nigger. Now I must retire from my blog, right? Not a chance, France, I've got too much good work to do for the peoples of the world. Nigger. What an awful word. But is it worse than kike, queer, yid, and the panoply of bad yet useful words that have been barred by the discrimination of the political tenders.

She called no one a nigger. She did not refer to anyone as such. I believe she was making a point (much as I am trying here). Are we to have guardians of the language mandate that unless certain people speak and do not speak in certain ways, they are to be cast upon the ash heap of radio. Nigger is a staple of rap. I do not believe there a rap song without the word (unless you count "Christian Rap") which is unknown to me.

Moral rectitude (gee...that sounds a little to close to a bad word for me, but it's all I've got) should help us not to use these words, especially crossly. But here's a few, when you're feeling especially angry (use sotto voce to protect yourself from the bloods and crips, however).

Ass-Pirate
Ass-Goblin
Ass-Nigger (saw it, couldn't resist)
Ass-Wipe
Bitch-Ass
Boner
Chink
Coon
Cunt

Well, you get the idea. I went to website to find bad words, and they were so overwhelming with them, I had to plotz. To paraphrase T. Jefferson, a word never picked my pocket, or broke my leg. Words, as repulsive as some may be, serve a good purpose. It helps to reminds us where we have come from in our relations, man to man (see the fag words) and understand better the reasons we must not disengage from the English language, but rather use it in all of its glory, may your Mom's bar of soap be damned.

Please, don't be intimidated by the word police. Our words belong to no one. They are the property, temporarily, of those who know how to use them. Then they become a part of the commonwealth, or better said, the commonwords.


Don't allow the PC crowd to crush your literary liberty. For once we lose the words we need to communicate, we lose the ability to do just that.

Joe Postove

I'm Gaining Some Weight

Well, the junk food seems to be catching up with me (not that I was trying hard to out run it). I eats a do-nut and diet coke for breakfast, a greasy hamburger (usually two) for luncheon, then an ice cream cone for a mid-day sugar lift to get me to 5 o'clock, when I eat either a chicken or hot dog, or if I'm feeling extra large, I'll get a Slurpie from Pops at 7/11.

I was pretty thin not so long ago, but with all my tiredness and menmanopause, and whatever the hell else I'm going through (besides the cancer) I just don't pay enough attention to what I eat. I look at it, and thrust it down my throat like the food whore that I am.

I used to get to the YMCA everyday. But I quit about 3 1/2 years ago. No money. No exercise. I have been running outside, but to avoid the sun, I have to wait till dusk, and by that time, I'm in Sleepytime Heaven.

Tits and ass seem to be my biggest problems. And I'm a man, for God's sake! I saw my things last night before bed, so I know I'm a man. Besides, thankfully, I've got small ariolas (nipples), and a manly if large rear end. I need to do something, and I used to be so good about working out. I was running 5 miles a day, swimming a mile, and lifting weights. I was a swan! I would skip all the way to the "Y" so the girls could see me in action. And show those guys who's in charge here.

Who's in charge here anyway? Is this the end of Joey? It can't be. I can lose the weight. I just need to substitute food with something else. How about sex? Say, do you know any girls who would have sex with a chubby man until he gets thin? Then I would kick her to the curb. When she got to the curb, though, I would probably order a couple of burgers, fries, and a shake from the car.

I can't win.

Joey

ALGORE

If the former Vice-President will cut down on the heat here in Norfolk, then maybe I'll come around on global warming, or at least give him a free pass to my new "Luxo" pay toilet.

It is so damn hot here. The temperature thing said 99, but they lie so much. I'll bet it was 110. My damn phone started to melt. Oh, gee, maybe the Soviet Union is bombing New York? I'd better get in the house. What about the toilets up there? What about Henry Fonda?

All I know it's August, I saw it on the that thing they hang up where I work that has all the days and months of the year on it. So I know its August. You'll get no argument from me about that. You sons of bitches. You think I can't tell what day it is? It's Tuesday, so there. And I know all of my numbers and most of my letters; except p, q, s, r, and 7.

After the cancer surgery, I am doing everything I can to keep my face from getting too much sun. I could keep my head in the toilet all day, but I have tv shows to watch, not to mention getting Yoo-Hoo's for all the girls at the whorehouse from the gas station across the street from my apartment.

But that does nothing to get this heat a'stoppin'. All I want to do is go poopin'. Dancing at the high school hop, dancing at the high school hop. But that doesn't seem to cool me off any either. Look, men, I need a woman. One that is all fresh and sweet smelling, and has no scent of shit from competitors who run sub-standard pay stalls. Have you ever been inside one of those disgraces to commercial toiletry? They don't care how they look. They just give you a token, and send you into a broken down facility that no self respecting southern woman would ever use.

Boy do I need a woman. And, say, Al Gore, give us a break on the heat here, mama. If you do, I'll get you a woman too.

Time to rest.

Joe Postove

Hello World....Goodbye Cancer (The little c)

The name of this "blog" is "Libertarianism And Things" (unless one of you hooligans have been messing with my things...the levers, the levers) but lately, of course, I've been writing mostly about my skin cancer and my line of pay toilets.

First the cancer. I saw the doctor yesterday for a followup, and everything seems to be coming along fine. The scar on the smileline where they aced some skin to graft onto my nose from whence the cancer came is going to to take longer to heal (if even not 100% percent...I'll be cool) than the cancer wound itself. But we caught it early, and little Joey looks like he's got another few years of blogging, toileting, skipping around town, jumping on the ropes at the gas station across the street from my apartment, and watching poon (I have to do it live since I ain't got any Internet at home, and the library has some rule about the naked body on these computers I paid for). Bastards! I'll pull their toilet privileges if they go too far. I mean that.

I feel pretty good, men. Old Mrs. Johnson who lives on my front steps and just celebrated her 109th birthday last week (we dedicated a toilet in her name) made change while I was convalescing at home. So I have to go out to the steps out front to get the big bottle of coins. I'll bring her a Poopsicle from the little store that runs next to the dollar store. It was built by the local insane insane asylum in 1961, and has no bumps. Folks did not think it was such a great idea to build a road for the insane next to the dollar store, since there is also a 99 cent store right there, but who am I to tell the insane how to live. After all, I gotta eat too.

So until I get back here, Good Shabbos, honey.

Joe Postove

Cutting and Pasting

While waiting in the operating room at the doctors office last week for my skin cancer surgery on the nose, the doctor burst into the room (I could have been naked, for God's sake!) jumped up on the operating table (there were two, in case one had been used by the staff for loving earlier) and started into a chorus of "I'm In Love With You Dear", dancing along the edges of the table with that look in his eye, and then took me by the collar and said "ok, kid, let's get to your goodies".

I plotzed (no cream), not wanting to be a part of another circumcision scam (like that awful barbershop in '05), when Doctor Popeil laughed and said "hey, we always do that, it makes the clients more at ease. What I meant by your 'goodies' was not THAT, but rather, my boy, your skin cancer on the nose. Now just lay back, and enjoy".

I was relieved. I put my things back in my pants (even though I've been circumcised seven times, I figured I'd have another, and then we could squeeze off the skin cancer. I'm no fool. Once I stuffed my three things back into my pants, I took off my burka (the lady at my Islamic toilet told me I should wear it for good luck...it was hard to see through the slits, though) and laid back for a nice and easy nose cancer operation.

There are probably some of you who would like to know more details before the mini-series comes out. OK. Friends, it really went well. A week ago yesterday the cancer was removed from my nose and they only had to go in one time. Beforehand, I was told that it might take two or three diggins' to get it all. But Poppy (my new name for my new hero) got it all on the first try. No pain, but there was a feeling of uncomfortableness, but the only real pain was the injecting of the anestetic with the meat grinder.

After the cancer was out, he said it was time to do a little plastic surgery. So, again, I took out my goods, resigned to another circumcision (I just don't have any will power). But the doctor said, "no Joe, we're just going to harvest a little skin from your smileline, and patch up the nose with that". Right at that moment, the saleslady from International Harvester walked in and tryed to sell us a tractor. But Dr. Popeil said no, this was a small thing, and I said try my toilets downtown. My people always are looking for a good tractor ride after morning plop plops (that and an ice cold Coke).

And after we were all done (some of the above is untrue) I was bandaged quite literally over 2/3rd's of my face, instructed on how to care for the wounds, and then kicked down the stairs when I told them I forgot my wallet. To be right, I was very fortunate in finding this doctor. He works in a major practice, and when I first went there and said I had no insurance, he said he understood, and we could work out a payment plan.

I nearly kicked out my jams. And jellies too! This ain't a political blog today, Mommy, but it shows that given the chance, humans are decent caring beings, and DO NOT need the government to force them to be that, there. But you all know my views on ObamaCare.

It's a week and a day out now, all the bandages are off, and, well, I must say I looking stunning. And I mean that in a good way. When he took the bandages off yesterday, I could see that I had been in the hands of of a true medical talent. The little line that was made when he took skin from my smile line was thin (red, but that will go away) and looks like it will heal almost without barely a smidge of a scar. And the nose, now scrubbed of cancer, looks great. I will have to medicate these two wounds for probably weeks, and I will see Daddy next week for a check.

I'm a happy boy. I think I'll skip around the block.

Joe