Another of Neil’s classic lines is, “And there ain’t nuthin’ like a friend, who can tell you you’re just pissin’ in the wind.”

Kathryn Jean, consider me a friend.

More funny than sad.

Sad would be K-Lo downloading a photo of herself watching MSNBC with the sound down because we would see the tiny efficiency with striped sheets for window treatments, the stacked up pizza boxes, white and red Chinese takeout containers and the Diet Royal Crown bottles all over the floor and the 13 inch Sony B/W TV on which she is purposely not listening to Sen. Obama…

“There’s there there”? And this woman edits a publication!!!

Talk about lowering the damn discourse.

if she’s *so* not listening how does she know he SOUNDS out of his league?

This nit-pick was brought to you by Mad Dog 20-20, the beverage of choice for NRO clowns of distinction.

He’s umming and throat-clearing and looking and sounding out of his league. Which is what he is, of course.

Pot, kettle… well, you know.

This can’t-speak-without-a-teleprompter meme is getting sooo lame. I’m an Obama supporter so I don’t count but I thought he sounded impressive. Funny how different people gear different things. What she heard passed through the wingnut filter (see meme above) but what I heard was a pretty articulate, pragmatic performance.

Yeah and K-lo could plausibly get laid.

How depressing it must be to her. Is she all there there there?

There there there Kathy Jean have another drink to forget about the scary black man.

But think of how happy she’ll be when that VP nomination lands on Mitt’s shoulders!

…and Starbucks offering abortions while you wait….

Why those corporate pigs at Starbucks will do ANYTHING to pull business away from the independents, won’t they! … Almost as bad as certain media personalities during elections.

He’s umming and throat-clearing

Yeah, that happens to people who weigh their words as they speak.

I gather Obama plays poker the same way — deliberate, always calculating.

http://www.live-pr.com/en/clue…..157621.htm

What this has to do with whether or not there’s there there I don’t know and don’t care — but I appreciate the clarifying, um, moment.

whenever I see pictures of Kathryn Jean Lopez, I imagine her as Edith Massey in “female Trouble”, or even worse as Queen carlotta in “Desperate Living”

Whenever she weeps for mitt, this is what I see in my mind’s eye.

I’d have sex with KJL though, just for the experience of picking stale cheese doodle crumbs out of her bellybutton.

“He’s umming and throat-clearing and looking and sounding out of his league.”

And this sentence is not a perfect description of every one of George Bush’s unscripted performances?

I have an idea. We can have a contest to see how many different Neil lines we can use to describe K-Lo. Two down, how many more to go?

“It’s better to burn out than it is to rust”

Why do I keep fucking up?

I have a friend I’ve never seen,
She hide’s her head inside a dream,***
Why don’t you call her,
and see if she will come out,
Try to lose the down that she’s found…

*** Feel free to substitute Jug of Gallo Chablis for dream

DING DING DING!!!!!

I always wonder about that when I read Ms. “Don’t You Worry, Rick Santorum Will Win!!” Lopez. She’s not just some fly-by-night knothead. She’s an editor at NRO. (Whatever that means…”Please make this stupider”?)

And she’s been in love with both Rudy and Fabulous Fred Thompson? And Mitt. I can’t keep up with them all.

And a devoted Bushite, yammering about the way Obama speaks? Are you kidding me?

And a tossup between this and “Themanwhocreatedmoseswine&pjmedia” post for funniest thing around.

Wow! I clicked on the link, went over to her page and found the ultra-scary “NR Cruise,” conveniently scheduled for POST-election 2008. [Which ones will drown their sorrows, and which just drown?]

The “guest list” reminded me of a TRUE family story:

In mid-May, our family moved from DC to Hawaii. We have four dogs, and we had to schedule two separate airline flights to transport them.

On flight #1, my college-age son was bringing two of the dogs. It was pouring rain at Dulles airport, and just after he had settled into his seat [I’d used miles to upgrade him to First Class], a flight attendent came and informed him that one of the dogs had escaped from his cage and was running loose on the tarmac.

Son went down, rode around on a golf cart chasing the dog, finally caught him & returned him to crate. His description of his return:

“So Mom, there I was, soaking wet, covered in dog hair. I had cut my leg, so I was bleeding, and I was sweaty and smelly. But the guy I sat down next to smelled even worse than I did: it was Fred Thompson.”

I swear this is true.

13″BW GE TV. Even a BW Sony is a bit upscale for a fortified wine drinker.

Will somebody just fuck her already and put her out of her misery.

Not with your equipment, a blindfold, half a bottle of tequila and a fistful of ludes.

K-Lo wouldn’t know if there’s any there there if someone slapped her up side the head with the there that was there, or something like that there.

McCain may not rally a crowd, but there’s there there that could plausibly be commander-in-chief of a nation at war (really, we are, remember? It’s not just over there.).

What could have been more “there there there” than McCain’s performance as the grinning rouged corpse in front of the famous green screen? The whole world was reminded of Patton standing in front of that big ol’ flag. It just screamed out “commander-in-chief of a nation at war (really we are, remember?)”

“So Mom, there I was, soaking wet, covered in dog hair. I had cut my leg, so I was bleeding, and I was sweaty and smelly. But the guy I sat down next to smelled even worse than I did: it was Fred Thompson.”

I swear this is true.

I believe you. I was at a newstand/lunch joint on Elliston Place in Nashville some years ago and as I was leaving I noticed a guy in a bad track suit, sitting on a stool, looking pleased with himself. You know..the way some celebrities and mucky-muck wheeler-dealers can do?

It was Fred Thompson. And it was weird.

It’s increasingly clear to me that Buckley died of shame.