I ran into a friend of mine in the cafeteria at work. She was wearing a Bush'04 button. I said (only half joking) that I didn't know if we could still be friends, what with that Bush thing...

And this woman, this sweet, Sunday school-teaching woman, looked at me and sneered, "What, you'd want Kerry in charge of anything?"

Uh, yeah. I would. Absolutely. And she, that sweet, dear thing, replied "What? His four months in Viet Nam, and his three Purple Ouchies make him qualified?"
Really. That's a quote. His three Purple Ouchies... I know I snapped something back at her, allowing as how Kerry, at least, could talk without Dick Cheney's hand up his ass, moving his mouth. And I tried to give the quick list of things he'd done, like going after Reagan and Bush the First in the Iran-Contra scandal. And she just laughed at me and told me Kerry had no clue about anything. (Like that brain-dead frat boy she's supporting has a clue...)

And that's when I slapped the crap out of her, and left her lime green dress sitting in an empty heap on the chair.

No. In reality (the world that she, the rest of the Bushies and the Man himself do NOT occupy) I smiled sadly, and said, "Really. I'm sorry, but I don't think we can be friends anymore."

I am so afraid for my country.

Do I go see Kerry and the Boss and the Divine Miss M tonight after work? Or do I finish up my flamingo costume. After all, I've voted. I've seen Miss M and the Boss in full performances. But I want to see Kerry live on the stump. I want to feel the electricty of the mob, and be persuaded that we really can win it all on Tuesday.

The worst epithet that could be hurled back in the day was that someone was a "Running Dog Capitalist" or the "Running Dog" of capitalism. It meant that you were capable of anything, as long as it proffited you, personally. It was similar, but not exactly the same as being called someone's lap dog.
Which brings up Alexander Pope's famous doggerel on a dog collar:

"I am my Highness' dog at Kew,
Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?"

As of yesterday, I became the running dog of the division's Vice President. Yesterday, I was ordered to send out a department-wide call for volunteers to do a day of hard labor out in the fields (literally) for Hands on Miami Day.

Last year, I was happy to coordinate the effort, and put my all into it, and got about a 30% participation, not bad for a corporate culture of non-volunteerism.

This year, I stormed into the PHB's office and told him that after the shit that has been heaped on us over the past few months, the contemptible way we have been treated, and the way we are all in God's Waiting Room (job-wise) that this had to be the most morally reprehensible act I'd ever been asked to commit in the line of professional duty. He got all snotty back at me and said he'd send out the call. And I should tell him how to find the information about Hands on Miami.

To which I replied, "Fine. Just. Fucking. Fine. I'll do it, but, I. AM. NOT. PLEASED." All the while thinking, how do you find information on the web? You? The fucking manager of web services, the lord and master of all things web in this hospital? You? Well, I wouldn't think of opening Google and typing "Hands On Miami" into the search box, or anything. No. YOU will find information by ordering me to look for it and write you a report in single syllable words, and then read it to you, out loud, explaining what I mean every step of the fucking way. You moron.

And by the way, as of Monday? There will be no layoffs in this department, after all. Some small, very small, number of reassignments. But why lay some people off when you can outsource an entire department in one fell swoop?

And on another topic altogether, if you've read this far:

What the fuck is up with the Boston Red Sox? Don't they know there's a fucking curse on all their houses? Don't they know that the world will end if they win the World Series?

Dogs and cats together.

Bite me.

This is cool.

And so is this.

Another click of the pink heels to RJ for this hot item:

Bush Relatives for Kerry, a web site by Bush cousins who are appalled by their idiot cousin.

The story from AP includes this quote:
The Bush relatives, supporters of Democratic challenger John Kerry, say they've never met the president but disagree with his policies ranging from the war in Iraq to the environment.

The Web site was launched in late September "to help America heal from the sickness it has suffered since George Bush was appointed president in 2000."

How many members of the Bush Administration are needed to change a light bulb?
The answer is: 10

1. One to deny that a light bulb needs to be changed
2. One to attack the patriotism of anyone who says the light bulb needs to be changed
3. One to blame Clinton for burning out the light bulb
4. One to tell the nations of the world that they are either "for" changing the light bulb or "for" darkness
5. One to give a billion dollar no-bid contract to Haliburton for the new light bulb
6. One to arrange a photograph of Bush, dressed as a janitor, standing on a step ladder under the banner: "Lightbulb Change Accomplished"
7. One administration insider to resign and write a book documenting in detail how Bush was literally in the dark
8. One to viciously smear #7
9. One surrogate to campaign on TV and at rallies on how George Bush has had a strong light-bulb-changing policy all along,
10. And finally, one to confuse Americans about the difference between screwing a light bulb and screwing the country.

Brilliant! And a tip of the pink shoes to RJ, for sending me the joke.

For whatever reason, I woke up this morning in a great mood. Maybe the endorfins are still pumped from last night at the gym with my trainer, Nic Cage.

Maybe it was the cool, moist air, a harbinger of fall. Maybe it was the sausage biscuit hidden in my knitting bag as I rode the train.

Or maybe it was the random playlist that the l'il pink i-pod produced.
1. Fruitcakes, Jimmy Buffett
2. Summer Days, Bob Dylan
3. Scar Tissue, The Red Hot Chili Peppers
4. Don't Fence Me In, David Byrne (From Red, Hot and Blue)
5. Is Anybody Goin' to San Antone, Doug Sahm
6. Prince Charming, Adam & the Ants
7. Girls Just Want to Have Fun, Cyndi Lauper
8. Because I Got High, Afroman

I couldn't have programmed that in a million years. Some sense or sensibility would have prevented me from mixing it up.

It's Friday, and today I'm going to research and write a white paper on targeted pop-up advertising for our web site, and content available for purchase. This will be the third time in six years that I've done it. The second time for the same guy. But this round, he seems to be winning control of the site, so maybe it isn't just wheel spinning.

Tomorrow, I'm going to begin work on my Halloween costume. The lovely RJ is hosting a fancy dress affair for the holiday, with an Alice In Wonderland theme. Come as a character from Through The Looking Glass or Alice. So I'm going to be a flamingo.

Oh, come on. She played croquet with the Red Queen, and they used flamingos as mallets and hedgehogs as balls. Don't you guys remember anything?