Ye Olde Scribe’s Links to Oblivion
“Surfing the net at the speed of intellect.”
“Watch your back,” warned the voice on the phone. “You know what can happen around here,” said another man, paying a visit to her workplace. “I don’t want to read about them finding you in a ditch.”
For some people, elections are serious business. For some citizens, democratic elections are a serious matter too.
Ever since Nov. 2006, Kentucky’s Kathy Greenwell has been trying to verify the election results, and like all citizens, she should have that right.
“Every time they brought in a satchel of the tapes, in goes the granddaughter with two clerks to a filing room. Then they’d come back out and announce the results,” says Kathy. “But when they gave someone a total Tuesday night, the first total they tried to make everybody believe that 6,000 people voted. They acted like it was the final count. People raised Cain, they went back and checked, then said it was 13,000 votes. Then a day or two later, it was 17,000 and now it’s supposedly 20,000 votes. Each time they said it was the final. We were also told there were missing votes and they couldn’t find them.”
Dems better be ready for 2008. 2006 may have been the equivilent of a fake in football. The big, important, prize is 08. Anyone want to guess who the machine companies, the gerrymanderers and the DOJ want to skew 08 in favor of? Hillary? O’Bama? Edwards? RIGHT.
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Unspinning the Spin Machine
“Dedicated to destroying the Reich Wing’s ALL Spin Zone.”
(Yes, Bill, Scribe was referring to YOU too. Liar.)
Current spin? That being political incorrect: going after those who agree as well as disagree with you, means a prosecutor wasn’t doing a good job. Only if you believe Uncle Adolph’s SS, or the KBG, and “justice” are synonyms.
The Latest Adventure
This recent excerpt from The Official Diary of Lemmiwinks is brought to you by Cheesy Poofs, Eric Cartman’s favorite snack. Cause even Lemmiwinks knows the mouth is the only proper portal for Cheesy Poofs, although they do, eventually, make an interesting Pu Pu Platter.
Entry, Day 5
Once again, I’ve been inserted up another asshole. But not just any asshole, or even a gay asshole… although with Republicans, ya never know. No, I am exploring a real asshole’s asshole. I am told my mission, Torture Boy Albutto says I MUST accept it, is to be yet one more distraction from all the murder, mayhem, filth and corruption… plus, since slandering John Edwards and his wife didn’t work, my reports may be used to trump any media advantage Democrats may have gained by playing our own sympathy card.
My job is to give hourly reports that may be used to alter the news cycle, when needed, like when they eventually discover that Saint Junior has his own torture chamber filled with young children that’s been built under the White House by Halliburton, or that Biggus Dickus is actual a cyborg. Always has been. That’s why even his best “smile” frightens puppies and kittens to death.
Yes, I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, I have been inserted into Tony Snowjob’s propaganda central. There’s sure a lot of misinformation up here, and nothing else. Did he ever think of going in for a colon cleansing, or does saving all this sh%$ serve the boy-King’s evil agenda?
Over there you see the transmission tower; better known as Bill O’Lielly’s last vibrator, that has been surgically implanted into the rectum. This way, with my help, Tony’s misfortune can be yet another way to skew the spin cycle whenever Rabid Rove needs to do so.
So, will Snowjob take all the unwanted, unneeded, but always plentiful, Reich Wing advice, like that spat upon John Edwards, and quit his job so he can focus in on his colon cancer?
I, Lemmiwinks, am the one who receives and transmits the daily updates: and all I can say in response to that rather logical question is… are you kidding?
But everyone KNOWS John Edwards hates his wife if they don’t decide to dump all his dreams?
I hate my job. I miss the Frog King, the Sparrow Prince. And I fear my next adventure: seeking out yet another Lush Dimbulb anal cyst. This will be no “seek and destroy” mission. No, my mission will be to cultivate the damn things. He collects them, like some people collect rocks, coins or teens collect dents in the family car.
So how did I wind up getting stuck up the ass of Nazi bastards who pretend to be Republicans?
Oh, yeah…
2000.
At least I haven’t had to do the Supremes yet. Think I’ll bring a few tactical nukes to that gig.
Stay TOONED for the further adventures of Lemmiwinks. In upcoming episodes, King Junior sends Jack Bauer after Lemmiwinks once Clarence Thomas explodes at a ReTHUGlican fund raiser and his pubic hairs wind up in everyone’s martini glass. But Jack being a violent, yet straight, shooter decides to take a few extra finger clippers over to the Oval Office instead. Soon Junior won’t be able to sing his favorite song, Thumbkin, anymore.