Zombies put Gravy on Everything

Monday, April 28, 2008

Zombies putting Gravy on Everything
Current mood: obsequious
Category: Life

In which I wake up in North Dakota, by Randall P. Copperfield, Esq.

I haven't seen enough of this place to describe it yet. It reminds me of a flat, Dorothy in black & white Kansas sort of place. Part of that is because it isn't really spring yet. Not much green at all. It wasn't difficult to get here. Even the chick at the United Airlines counter was friendly and helpful, albeit that is her job, but we know how that goes. Sad that we pour all over ourselves when someone simply does what she is paid to do.

I found some Starbuck's Sinatra roast at this awful Mal-Wart they have in Dickinson. Incredibly, it is like all the other diabolical Mal-Wart stores. Also, the evil of Bentonville pervades this place: every other business has been run out of town. Nothing is left but darkness. Boarded up structures that remind me of a Springsteen song from "Darkness on the Edge of Town." Zombie folks walking around like characters in a really bad zombie movie. Everyone puts gravy on everything.

But they gots some fossil fuel here, hence our interest. Landmen from Oklahoma have been coming up here for decades, surveying the place, making crop circles in the fields and whatnot.
Still, at Mal-Wart, I couldn't resist buying a bunch of crap I didn't need. I don't have a vehicle up here, but I bought a case of motor oil for a diesel truck. I also purchased (on sale, bitches) three dozen light bulbs, some fig newtons, a pack of 12 lighters, and some thong panties. There's more, but it starts getting kind of silly.

Get this. I have TWO new friends on MySpace, one is Jamie from the May Club. I just met her on Sunday. The other is Nick, who helps me do stuff I can't do for myself because I'm old and lazy or incompetent.

Richard, who helps me do stuff I can't do for myself because I'm old and lazy or incompetent, found a good home for the peein' dog, whom we never even named. It wasn't working out at our place, as the other two dogs are too old to put up with a puppy, and she was no normal puppy. She chewed up oak steps, for heaven's sake.

My new lap top is kyna coo, and it works well up here. The hotel has great internet, so I can't complain about that. Yes I can.

And one of my coolest May Club cred friends, Chester, sent me a text message out of the blue. Made my day…that and finding some Starbuck's coffee…and the planes not crashing.
I will miss my swell friends who would not normally mix with me.

But in three weeks I'll be off for a whole week. Then I'm going home to OKC, I'm gonna lay up, get on crack, and watch the sh*t out of DVDs.

It is time for me to try and get some sleep now. Nothing mean to say about Obama tonight, other than he is a phony big eared mean wife havin' muslim training camp goin' dawg head. McCain is worse when it comes to phoniness, but at least he doesn't lie about being a muslim. I read today McCain went negative against poor Obama. Said a lot of hurtful things about him. According to Obama, the semi-black candidate, this is all "racism." And McCain mooched a plane off his rich wife's beer company. Nice. No conflict there, "Mr. Straight Talk."

I wish I could vote for…ANYONE else. What crappy choices. If McCain doesn't put someone (a conservative) with some smarts, youth, honesty, ethics, and credibility, on his ticket, I'm going to vote for Hillary or any third party candidate on the ballot. I will not under any circumstance vote for Obama. I believe Hillary is going to beat him. I do. She'd be better than Obama. (but the judges that woman would appoint…)

Obama's idiot "preacher" was smearing the airwaves with his vitriol today. Like to made me puke (again). Sure loves the limelight does Pastor Wright. How dare he say that stuff about America; never mind it is sort of true.

Nope, nuffin mean to say tonight. I'm just happy, joyous and free. My sponsor is looking after me. We're going to get through the big book as fast as Wesley Snipes filed his income tax returns. Idiot. Oh, and Tom called to check on me.

And don't forget I found the Starbuck's Sumatra.

Coming to you live from North DaKelly,
RPH, Esq., N.V.

©Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises, Inc.

Barack the Chicken Hearted

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Barack the Chicken Hearted Current mood: argumentative Category: News and Politics Barack the Chicken Hearted The race between Obama and Clinton is neck and neck, mainly because Obama cheated or something, and Clinton ran a lousy campaign – or none at all in many states. Her idiot staff thought it would all be over by February 5th, but it ain't. It's a terrific, tight race that is preparing the eventual nominee for the fall campaign. We haven't had a primary race this close or this exciting since 1976, when Ronald Reagan almost beat Gerald Ford, a sitting, albeit appointed, president. Ford won by doling out bribes and using secret police from the Shah of Iran to beat up on uncommitted delegates. The result was… Jimmy Carter, who recently screwed up things a little more for us over in allahland. There's a new book out about what an arrogant jerk Carter was, in that he treated the White House "help" like crap. I'd almost read that book – if I read books. Didn't Carter's mother have a torrid affair with lovely Gertrude Stein back in the 30's? I may be wrong; I get so confused sometimes. It's all this clean living. Gertrude Stein Lillian Carter So Hillary Clinton has challenged that awful Barack Obama to a Lincoln-Douglas –style Debate. This debate would have no moronic moderators asking moronic questions. The two candidates would ask each OTHER moronic questions, pick at each other, show a bit of smarts and oratory…and whatnot. Americans have been clamoring for a true debate since I started following politics in 1968. What passes for "debates" among the candidates, and the democrats have had some 21 exhaustively boring ones in this campaign, aren't really debates at all. They are group press conferences. They are seldom newsworthy, as the candidates usually expect most of the questions, and they have prepared sound bite answers. They are lame. Once in awhile a candidate says or does something dumb. In 1976, Ford claimed the Soviets did not dominate Poland. Right. Poland also invanded Germany in 1939. Ford waited a week before knuckling under and "clarifying" his remarks. That probably cost him the election, but who can say. In the end were saddled with… Jimmy Carter, who recently screwed up things a little more in allahland. And Jimmy Carter, who got the dog sh*t beat out of him by Ronald Reagan, in 1980. In their one and only debate, Reagan was prepared for Carter's pious, holier-than-thou, you're going to start a war, rape the wilderness, and then eat the poor comments. Reagan shook his head sadly (he'd likely rehearsed it) and said, "there you go again." Most of us Reagan fans added "you phony m.f." to that, since Reagan couldn't say it. In a debate in 1992, George Bush (the smart one) looked at his watch, which signaled he was not having a good night, and it rather summed up his hapless campaign. When's this gonna be over? In 2000 and 2004, Bush the Dumb was…just dumb, and we were embarrassed for him. Debates, even the goofy press conference "debates," can make a difference. We should have lots and lots of them, because Hillary might just score points against that phony Obama, and beat his ass. Someone needs to expose this guy before it is too late, and we're cursed with another… …Jimmy Carter-like idiot. One who smiles and charms and delights the masses. After getting elected, he sits around and effs stuff up. I'm serious. He has gotten a free ride because he is semi-black, and it is simple as that. What do we know about him? We know about that preacher of his. We know about his friendship with the terrorist, that precious William Ayers. We know Obama lacks experience. The kind of experience it takes to avoid doing and saying stupid things as President of the United States. Bush the Dumb taught us about that. We know Obama's evil orc wife wasn't proud of America until her husband was on the verge of the nomination. If I've said anything personal or unkind, let me apologize before anyone is hurt. My whole point with this ramble was to simply say that that Barack Obama is a whiny punk bitch because he won't accept Hillary Clinton's challenge to a real debate. all I can do is sit here and write hurtful things about that big eared pinko weathermen sympathizer crack smokin' Barack Obama. I do hope he loses. I'm about ready to send some money to Mrs. Clinton. Lots and lots of conservatives are pulling for her. RPH, Esq., N.V. ©Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises, LLC

Clobbering Persia - 30 Years Late

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Clobbering Persia - 30 Years Late Current mood: contemplative Category: News and Politics God Bless Pennsylvania. Yes, the good citizens of Pennsylvania, including my friends at Dunder Mifflin in Scranton, voted on Tuesday, and Senator Clinton beat the dog sh*t out of that crooked Senator Obama. By a margin of at least 10 points, Mrs. Clinton knocked him down to Chinatown. Obama spent money like a drunken arab potentate, which he is by the way. He ran hundreds of negative ads -- enough to make the entire state puke onto poor New Jersey. Mr. Hope & Change even went negative, and he called her everything but an ugly white woman. It didn't work. He lost. I can't stand either one of them, but I favor Mrs. Clinton over Mr. Obama. I can even see myself voting for her over Senator McCain. He is also a big phony, and I can envision him pushing some of the dumbest legislation in history, keeping hope (and war) alive in Iraq forever, and (as one comedian claimed) re-invading poor harmless Vietnam. Might as well bomb Cambodia while we're at it, Senator. I read something interesting in the New York Times. Senator Clinton is getting a little tougher, and I like it. I'll get to it. I'm no Torah-thumper for Israel, but I believe we should stick up for the only true friend we have in that allah-forsaken region. I'm still very angry at Iran over the hostage taking in 1979. Carter did everything but offer the Iranians an aircraft carrier to release the diplomats imprisoned by the terrorists. Lest we forget, the current President of Iran, Ahmadinejad, was one of those terrorists. They played Carter for the fool he was, and he was the first sitting president to lose since Martin Van Buren. But those Iranian vandals embarrassed all of us. They didn't act nice. They didn't act right. They violated every rule of traditional diplomacy, and they don't regularly bathe. I don't know of a single instance where the Germans or even the Soviets pulled that kind of crap. One would have to think of North Korea to find an example. It was years before the reputation of the United States of America was restored. Alas, the dumb Bush destroyed it all over again. Like most Americans, though, I've long been troubled by the those nuts in Iran. They want nukes, and backward as they are, they are bound to get them. Pakistan has nukes, for heaven's sake. Iranian mullets and their goofy president firmly believe they are backed up by some magical, albeit phony, diety, "allah." The leaders of this backward, quaint, rug making country are convinced that it is the will of allah to wipe Israel off the map. Let them try. Not because I think we should start a war over Israel. No, we should simply use this as an excuse to annihilate Iran. Even thirty years later, it would still be kyna coo. Am I a warmonger? Nope. I simply wouldn't mind if we nuked Iran. These things happen. So I was more than pleased to read in the New York Times the following quote: "The Pennsylvania race was volatile into its final hours. Mrs. Clinton, for instance, surprised some Democrats with a remark about Iran on ABC on Tuesday, when she broke with her practice of avoiding hypothetical questions and commented on a situation in which Iran attacked Israel with nuclear weapons. "I want the Iranians to know that if I'm the president, we will attack Iran," she said. "In the next 10 years, during which they might foolishly consider launching an attack on Israel, we would be able to totally obliterate them." You go fat girlfriend. If you win, we'll likely be inundated with lesbian feminist judges, and unimaginably awful policies and laws. At least you'd dispatch our Iranian friends to the infernal regions if they jack with Israel. I'd say it'd be worth the 30-year wait, and I'll learn to live without Persian rugs. RPH, Esq., N.V.

Obama to Outlaw English ﺵﻈﻖﺴ,ﺵﻈﻖﺴﷲ

Monday, April 21, 2008

Obama made me learn ﺵﻈﻖﺴﷲ Current mood: indescribable Category: News and Politics People, I've said it before, and I'll say it again: you can't make up some of the dumb stuff candidates do. What's more, they will keep right on a-doing it or lying about it until unrelenting media or other pressure brings them down. Once in awhile, a public figure will not back down. An example from 1985 comes to mind, and that is the controversy over President Reagan's visit to a German military cemetery, Bitburg. Bitburg contained the remains of a few soldiers who were in the SS. There might have been a few allied airmen who firebombed Dresden, too – war is bad. The President stuck to his guns and went anyway. He had, after all, promised Chancellor Kohl he would go. It was an important gesture of American appreciation of an important and loyal friend. It wasn't as if the President planned to don lederhosen and sing the "Horst Wessel" song with the Chancellor. Lots of whining, though, from certain members of congress, Elie Wiesel, and the usual suspects in the media. People sent in World War II medals in protest. Scientologists set themselves on fire. Artists in Santa Fe did more 'shrooms. Nazis protested the visit of a World War II veteran, Captain Ronald Reagan, to a sacred cemetery where kameraden were interred. Kurt Waldheim turned over in his mausoleum, and he wasn't even dead yet. Okay, I'm making most of this up. But Reagan promised he'd go, it caused a lot of controversy, but he kept his word to the Chancellor. The controversy eventually passed, like a pineapple through the digestive system. Reagan himself put that a little more colorfully. Deutschland remains one of our staunch allies. Now, Obama the Boy Wonder, is cornered over this idiotic flag lapel pin issue. I don't know if his mojo, mofo, ungawa, voodoo, or muslim prayers will bail him out of this one. Reagan Democrats and others with common sense are both puzzled and angered. Most of us have never known or even heard of someone who wouldn't wear an American flag lapel pin. Not that people "have" to wear one, but who ever refused? For the most part, the senator can do no wrong in the eyes of the media. They think he is swell, and that he was wrapped in swaddling clothes at birth. The media have given him a pass over that piece of work "minister," and his tight relationship with home grown terrorist, William Ayers, whose worst crime was sporting 60s hair in the 80s. I think Obama is a fat, lying phony, but I mean that in a nice way. Why won't he wear a lapel pin? That's un-American, un-patriotic, and just plain goofy. The media have picked at him about it, but he (so far) hasn't backed down. If he decides to start wearing one now, we can all gleefully proclaim him the chicken-hearted woos he truly is, and we'll mean that in a nice way too. After 9/11, America found itself at war with islam. I started wearing a lapel pin, because it seemed the right thing to do. My pin has the American and British flags together, because the Great Britain is our best friend. I'm also a monarchist and a colonialist, and I believe Great Britain should get its empire back. So would it hurt our young prince to wear a lapel pin? Nope. Why doesn't he? If someone designed and manufactured (in China, of course) a lapel pin with that muslim red crescent, next to a Maoist red star, I'm betting Obama would wear it. This man who would be president, the leader of a proud, patriotic, and rather fat nation of fast food lovers would wear that one. Why? Because he is secretly a muslim commie, that's why, and we won't find out until it is too late. Sidebar: I don't wear a lapel pin any more. Why? Because I'm too grotesquely fat to fit into anything with lapels. If I'd earned $4.2 billion dollars last year like the Obama Crime Family, I'd buy new suits. Let us vote. Vote early, repeatedly, and often. Vote like a Kennedy-rigged election in Boston. Let us hope that "the American people in their righteous might" will not elect this guy. He is an unknown. He is untested. He is effete. He is a snooty, wine sipping, reception going, Vanity Fair readin', NPR lis'nin' mean wife havin', Black Niles Crane, and he's not even a Baptist. C'mon, Pennsylvania. Vote in droves for Hilary. Obama makes her seem palatable. I never thought I'd say that. I might even vote for her over McCain; it depends on McCain's running mate. Someone has been saying that McCain wants to re-invade Vietnam; that is funny as hell, and I wish I'd thought of it. So why won't the emir wannabe wear a flag lapel pin? I'm sick of listening to "Vampire Weekend" now, but they are starting to send me messages like Gavin Rossdale. I'm going to get to the subject of North Dakota I'm leaving in a week. Here's another from "Vampire's" "Oxford Comma." "Why would you lie about how much coal you have? Why would you lie about something dumb like that? Why would you lie about anything at all? First the window, then it's to the wall Lil' Jon, he always tells the truth" Because it doesn't have to make sense to be cool. "Oxford Comma" has the F-word in it, too. ﺵﻈﻖﺴﷲ, RPH, Esq., N.V. ©Randall P. Hodge, Esq.

Hitler's 119th Birthday and Vampire Weekend

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Vampire Weekend and Hitler’s 119th Birthday Current mood: adventurous Category: Life Today is Hitler's 119th Birthday. I'm one of the few people who believes Hitler is dead. I mean, he just couldn't be alive. The guy had serious health problems, particularly toward the end of the war. He had a quack of a doctor, Theodor Morell, who prescribed all kinds of exotic, weird stuff – everything from Romanian gypsy sperm to lamb feces to some awesome amphetamines. I'd have liked Morrell, as he was apparently (as we say in the business) a "pill doctor." He was also (as we say in the business), a nut. Hitler's inner circle despised him. No mystery as to why Hitler kept Dr. Morell on the payroll. Hitler was upset about some things, had issues, didn't act right, and he made a mess. Yet the History Channel, History International, the Military Channel, et al, have turned the guy into a black & white icon for people who oughta step out into the sunshine once in awhile. I only knew it was Adolf's birthday because the New York Times reminded me. What kind of a nut remembers Hitler's birthday anyway? Or Stalin's (December 18, 1878), or Mao's (December 26, 1893), or George W. Bush's, (July 6, 1946)? "Vampire Weekend" was the musical guest on SNL last night. I'm one who is generally at least five years behind the times. "Vampire Weekend" was already popular with indie people years ago, so I'll be laughed at yet again for being lame. I liked both songs they performed, "A-Punk," and "M79." Carrying this new obsession to its end, I've downloaded a bunch of their music from Napster®, conned them into adding me to the "Vampire Weekend" MySpace page, and memorized the lyrics to all of their songs. I should expect another one of those pesky restraining orders if I start bugging them. Find "Vampire Weekend" some place and listen to the two tunes I mentioned. For the lyrics alone, "Vampire Weekend" is worth a listen. The lead singer is Ezra Koenig, who looks like a Jewish Holden Caulfield might look, and he has a great voice. Somebody writes good lyrics – not sure if it is Koenig (but the obsession continues, so I will find out). Here is a stanza from "M79:" "No excuse to be so callous Dress yourself in bleeding madras Charm your way across the Khyber Pass." So forget Gavin Rossdale. I'm heading for the Khyber Pass. But first I'm going to North Dakota to make some money. More on this later. RPH, Esq., N.V. ©Randall P. Hodge, Esquire

The Pope of Obama’s Chinese Body Parts

Thursday, April 17, 2008

The Pope of Obama’s Chinese Body Parts Category: News and Politics The new Pope is visiting the United States. He seems like a good man. He is tough and conservative. He probably wishes Vatican II hadn't ruined his church. Maybe he'll bring back the formal Latin Mass and get rid of the hippies with flip flops, pony tails and guitars. After all, Latin is spoken in Heaven. I'm one Episcopalian who still misses the Pope John Paul II. My dreams of his successor -- a Pope who was secretly in the SS in Austria or Germany during World War II -- were dashed when I learned Cardinal Ratzinger had only been in the Hitler Youth. Still, Kurt Waldheim is still a rock star after all these years. We are definitely running out of Nazis to pick on. In other news, Senator Obama and his hideous wife released their tax returns. It seems Barack and Michelle earned and reported $4.2 BILLION in income in 2007! The salary of a United States Senator is but $169,000.00. That's not a lot of money in Washington, D.C., or in Chicagoland, the home base of Obama's nefarious criminal, political, and islamic empire. But it's still a lot of money. Press reports indicate the Obamas made all this extra money from the sale of the Senator's cheesy and self-promoting books, "My Baby's Mama: the Michelle Uhura Obama Story," and "The Audacity of Hope that White People will stop complaining and go back to Europe." That's a lot of money from two boring books that one can buy at Barnes & Noble now for about fit-ty cent a piece. How is this possible? Why won't the Obamas explain how they turned so little money into so much? Cattle futures? Whitemail? Clipping coupons? Public schools? Re-financing? Doubtful. I think I know. I have this information from Gavin Rossdale himself. The Obamas have for some time been heavily involved in the trade of human body parts from communist red China, owner of Mal-Wart and the United States of America. Yes. Yes, this is sick and wrong, but it is lucrative like cookin' dope if you don't get caught. This is why the Obamas are gettin' paid like Oprah. Barack's thugs roam the Chinese countryside seeking whom they can kidnap, and from whom they can harvest kidneys, lungs, hearts, brains, eyes, and wieners. These parts are cosmetically enhanced, enlarged or reduced where appropriate. Next, they are quick frozen, boxed, and shipped to Obama's secret distribution warehouse located near Bentonville, Arkansas, headquarters of Mal-Wart. From the Bentonville warehouse, located deep within the Bentonville Mountains, the body parts are sold to medical facilities around the world, ostensibly as genuine "organ donor body parts." They are shipped complete in an individual collector's ice chest, as seen on TV. Are Obama, communist red China and Mal-Wart Connected? Fishy? Conspiracy? Almost certainly. Ghoulish? Not really, no. Wish I'd thought of it. This kind of scam requires a lot of money, and such financing has to come from deep pockets. The Mafia? Nope, the government cheated and ruined the mafia in the 80's. Word is that Mal-Wart has been behind this thing all along. There is a reason why 97.5% of all the crap in Mal-Wart was made by the red communist Chinese. It's all connected. It's a conspiracy. A conspiracy so vast and so complicated, it will take a new, Pentagon-size cabinet level department to sort it all out. And McCain is the idiot who'll likely create three or four more of those things. All I know is the Obamas did not make $4.2 BILLION from hawking books about putrid Michelle Obama and sending white people back to Europe. Wait. Hold on. Oh, they made $4.2 MILLION in 2007. Never mind. But I still think they are into selling stolen body parts from communist red China. RPH, Esq., N.V. ©2008 Randall P. Hodge, Esq.

Barack Obama, the Magic Snob

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Barack the Magic Negro Snob Current mood: triumphant Category: News and Politics Rush Limbaugh… (I rarely listen to him, but he likes pills, and no pill popper is all bad, but he IS fat), …had a funny ditty a few weeks ago called "Barack the Magic Negro." Funny, and not as racist as you might think, because after all, Dr. King used that term. "Barack the Magic Part African American" lacks the rhythm. Yesterday we learned of rather snooty comments the Senator made while speaking (where else) in snooty San Francisco. I quote directly from the New York Times article in this morning's edition, (which I read because I am snooty and the Oklahoman is the only paper in America that isn't worth 50¢): "At the fund-raiser in San Francisco last Sunday, Mr. Obama outlined challenges facing his presidential candidacy in the coming primaries in Pennsylvania and Indiana, particularly persuading white working-class voters who, he said, fell through the cracks during the Bush and Clinton administrations. "So it's not surprising then that they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations," Mr. Obama said." It doesn't sound that bad, and maybe it isn't, but if the media play it up, it might hurt him in Pennsylvania and Indiana – just as he was about to catch up with my personal pick for the democrats, Senator Clinton. Barack the Magic Negro may be Barack the Magic Idiot. It could be bad because he lumped a whole lot of good people into a group of TBN watching, deer hunting, Mal-Wart shopping, for English, press 2 hating, morons whose lives suck. It snobbish. It's the kind of thing Christopher Hitchens, my favorite balding snob, would write in Vanity Fair, my favorite magazine with "purdy" people. Obama said it to curry favor with the kind of people who refer to anyone who doesn't live in New York City or Los Angeles, as "flyover people." Not especially complimentary, since we grow the food for their dinner parties and (used) to produce the oil for their limousines. Clearly, Senator Obama is a racist, jackboot wearing thug who hates America, and he wants to destroy all that we are and all that we love. I also read some place he wants to enslave all the white folks for a couple hundred years. That's just wrong. You know what I'm sayin'. RPH, Esq., N.V. ©2008 Randall P. Hodge, Esq.

Gavin Rossdale Speaks...

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Gavin Rossdale Speaks... Current mood: accomplished Category: Music My hero, Sir Gavin Rossdale, was the lead singer of the greatest band in history, BUSH. I know he hasn't been knighted, but he will be. He has just released a new single, "Love remains the Same," which will be on his upcoming album. I downloaded it for ninety-nine cents from Napster, and it's a great song, albeit a bit on the bubble gum cheesy side, but this is Gavin Rossdale, and he could sing gibberish and I'd buy it. In fact, he already has, and I have. But it's good gibberish, and I have my own theories about what he was saying. Not everyone knows this, but Gavin Rossdale speaks to me through his music. I'm not referring to the typical phony kind of message through music "to go kill people, leave something witchy and start a race war" stuff that Charles Manson claims he heard from the White Album by the Beatles. No, Gavin really talks to me. Tells me all kinds of cool stuff about Gwen Stefani, and Baby Kingston Rossdale, and future Baby Rossdale, who is due some time this summer. The happy and beautiful couple have been married since 2002, which is probably a record among deity. I often reveal secrets about people, places and things and, coincidentally, my sources won't let me pony up any proof whatsoever of my allegations. But if I end a sentence with "I'm just sayin'," from the hilarious TMZ website, you can rest assured it is the whole troof. Plus, when a lawyer tells you something, it is fact. When a lawyer asks you a question, you are compelled by law to answer that question immediately, or you will go to jail. Even if you aren't under oath. I've actually used that on people to get them to tell me stuff that is none of my business. At this time, I have only been authorized to reveal "Love remains the Same" is a great song. Download it now, or die. Also, I can tell you that Gavin and Gwen have lots of fun sometimes. I'd never leave the house if I were them. When I have a moment, I want to tell you all about the Red Chinese and the crap they're pulling all over the place. That'll have to wait, as I must watch tonight's "all new" episode of "The Office." I hope the DVR wasn't full of stupid crap I haven't had time to watch. Plus, if I keep listening to this song by Gavin Rossdale, perhaps he'll let me tell you something. Provided, I stay "at least 1000 miles from said singer and members of his (Rossdale's) family, friends, homes, automobiles, trash, drain pipes, and pet feces." RPH, Esq., N.V.

Musings on Obama's Hater "Church"

Friday, April 04, 2008

Trinity United Church of Crap Current mood: contemplative Category: News and Politics This story has been done to death, but I continue to uncover additional facts. Senator Barack Obama is a member of a whacko "church" in Chicago, Trinity United Church of Christ. I recently shared with you intelligence I uncovered on the internet. This included a statement issued by surviving members of the Nazi Party in Germany, in which the party condemned, rebuked and repudiated Senator Obama and that awful, hideous "church" he has attended for twenty years. Further, at the spring rally held in Munich, the governing board of the New and Improved Nazi Party awarded its annual Aufmerksamkeit gefährlicher Schwarze (Warning: Dangerous Negro) prize to Rev. Jeremiah Wright. Rev. Wright is Obama’s spiritual advisor, guru, minister, and America Hating Mentor. Factabidness, the term "hater," which was used by Dave Chappelle to describe someone who hates everything, originated with Wright and his fat nappy head. The Nazis think Wright is too extreme. So do I. I’m troubled that Obama would take his family to that "church" for so many years. Didn’t he HEAR what Wright was spewing, Linda Blair-style, all over the place? Obama brushed off this issue by claiming, "I was texting, and had my cell phone set on super duper vibrate, and strapped to my third leg." Too much information, to be sure, but interesting. My sources tell me his evil wife has one of those huge 80’s mobile phones with identical settings, and that she named her phone "Little Barack," and found the phone infinitely more gratifying than the Senator. I’m just sayin’. Lastly, still another source produced for me a copy of a letter from the Baby Jesus Himself, and it was addressed to Trinity United Church of Christ. In effect, the letter demanded the "church" cease and desist using the last name of Jesus (Christ) on its letterhead, signs, mailings, media, internet, and any and all other forms…" Jesus simply could not abide folks thinking the Rev. Wright in any way, shape or form represented Him on earth. The other Church of Christ, commonly found in Oklahoma and other Southern states, is also annoyed that people confuse a church known for its high Biblical standards (Church of Christ) with Obama’s communist "church." I don’t like Obama. I never have. I have not been caught up in all the hoopla the media have created around him. I don’t think he offers any real hope for anybody, other than himself. He hopes to get a higher paying job: the Presidency. I think Obama is phony, a closet commie, a closet militant muslim, a closet ǖber liberal, and the Anti-Christ. Also, his ears are too big, and he is about 97% white. He gets all this black cred by being 3%? I’ll say it again, and not for the last time, that if he is nominated, Barack Hussein Obama cannot and will not win. "The American people in their righteous might" will not elect this guy. RPH, Esq., N.V. ©Randall P. Hodge, Esq. 2008

President Reagan

Thursday, February 07, 2008

President Reagan Current mood: pensive Category: Laudanum News and Politics February 6, 2008 - Happy Birthday, President Reagan. President Reagan died on June 5, 2004, from complications related to old age and Alzheimer's disease. He enjoyed a long and productive life. It was his nature to focus on the bright side of people, places and things. He believed in himself, and he believed in a loving and compassionate God. He believed that most things turn out for the best, provided we do the next right thing. President Reagan's Mother used to tell him, "always say and do the kindest thing." He hated tyranny and injustice. He shared a dream with two other greats from the 20th Century, Pope John Paul II, and Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. The dream was the dissolution of the Soviet Empire, and the installation of democracy throughout Europe. Freedom for all Europeans, through whom Western Civilization and culture have spread around the world. In March, 1983, I'd just been appointed to a position with the White House staff. That same month, the President gave one of his most memorable speeches. It was in this speech to the National Association of Religious Broadcasters that Ronald Reagan referred to the Soviet Union as an "evil empire" that was destined to end up "in the ash heap of history." The punditocracy of Washington and New York was apoplectic. How dare this nut Reagan say bad things about the Commies? It was reckless and foolhardy for him to provoke a nation that had recently invaded and conquered Afghanistan. It would only piss them off and make them more difficult when/if we started talking to them about arms control again. President Reagan didn't care about this. He was more interested in telling the truth to the world, and he kept telling the truth throughout his Presidency. When the Soviets shot down the Korean Airlines Flight 007, in September, 1983, the President did not hesitate to use the harshest language in condemning the senseless brutality of Soviet fighters downing a defenseless passenger plane. Such a barbaric act had to be rooted in the paranoia of the Soviet system. Some years later, he stood by the Berlin Wall and urged Mikhail Gorbachev to "tear down this wall." The Soviets did just that. Today, Germany is united, strong and free. It is the third largest economic power on earth. Germany is one of our most loyal allies. Poland, over which the world was at war from 1939-45, is free. Poland is also one of America's most loyal allies. Along with Great Britain, Poland "has our back," whether we are right or wrong. After eight years of bumbling by the dumb President Bush, it is a wonder we have friends anywhere, but we do. When I recall the 1976 campaign, and the years of the Carter malaise, I am reminded of the main reason I wanted Ronald Reagan to win. Our country was desperate to believe in itself again. We wanted someone to tell us we were still the best country in the world. That America was the smartest, richest, the fattest, had the most televisions, the greatest sports heroes, the best dogs, fastest cars, and the most gifted scientists. That we, as Americans "had every right to dream heroic dreams." Gradually, we began to believe in ourselves again. We stopped being afraid of falling down. I had the honor and privilege of working in three of Ronald Reagan's campaigns, 1976, 1980, and 1984. I worked with and for a number of people who went on to serve in the highest levels of government. Those were heady years. Lots of stuff going on around the world. Who could tell what the goofy Soviets might do next. I don't see how I could top those experiences, unless perhaps I come up with a way to force Cox Cable to carry RFD-TV, which would allow me to watch "Imus in the Morning." We began to "lose" President Reagan in the early 90's, with the onset of Alzheimer's. He handled that issue gracefully and bravely. I was in Washington that June, visiting with my friend Lyn, who'd played such a major role in Reagan's campaigns, and with his successes as President. It was even cooler that Lyn and I went to the funeral together at National Cathedral. So I'll always remember February 6th as the birthday of one of America's best. I doubt in my lifetime there will be another like him – certainly not an African muslim named Barack Hussein Obama. Or a lamp throwing, potty mouth junior senator like Hilary Clinton. I mean that in a nice way. Thanks, President Reagan. Thanks for the nice jobs you gave me. Thanks for saving the country. Thanks for destroying Communism. RPH, Esq., N.V., European American ©Randall P. Hodge, Esq. 2008

John McCain & Dreams of Laudanam

Friday, February 08, 2008

John McCain......... Current mood: irritated Category: News and Politics It was John McCain "who started that old crazy Asian War," which is why he was allegedly held prisoner by the North Vietnamese. Now he is back with a secret plan to eff up things worse than the Dumb President Bush. I'll provide some details when I've read up on it a little more. At the moment I don't like the guy because he is old and bald and phony. (His wife does/did like pills, though) Who to vote for? I have no idea. What choices. Some half African dude with a weird name. A fat chick who swears a lot, throws lamps, and had Sauron's Love Child. Or John McCain, who is nothing more than a butched up version of Hubert Humphrey, and who is more boring than George Schultz on Xanex. It's gonna suck to be us.

Dreams of Laudanum Current mood: implacable I've had this latest idiot cold for almost a week now. A chronic cough has knocked all of my internal organs loose, so they are floating about at will. I've coughed so much even my stomach, liver, or something down there hurts. Go figure. Maybe it's the 20,000 mg of Vitamin C I have taken each day that hasn't helped a bit. Or the hundreds of dollars worth of zinc based "miracle remedies" that aren't particularly miraculous. Maybe a combination has irritated or irradiated something I might need some day. Who can say what I've done to my stomach. The only thing that could thrive in my body, apparently, is a common cold virus. My stomach should, in theory, be able to absorb quickly just about any substance I send its way. Yesterday, my voice began to give out on me. I'm convinced it is Anthrax. When I try to speak, the weak and raspy sound reminds me of a band nerd who screamed too much at a football game. I had to call my law partner today, and naturally he made fun of me by mocking the hoarse vocal quality I have acquired. I'm not sure if Anthrax causes one to lose his voice, but it sounds like it might. If anyone could somehow catch the Anthrax where I work -- believe me I could catch the Anthrax where I work. There is only one cure for what ails me: opiates. Serious, New York City Goth, Edgar Allen Poe weird poem writing, freaky painting OPIATES. I've been on a kick to find the famous Victorian Era cure-all, LAUDANUM. Laudanum was an alcohol based tincture with opiates added for good measure. Get this -- nurse maids would give the stuff to infants to shut them up. (So would I) Sometimes they gave a little too much, and it shut them up permanently. People just thought it was a cure-all. In truth, after taking a lot of Laudanum, one forgot all about any other malady. Society ladies took the crap out of Laudanum. It made them look weak and pale, which was fashionable in those days. Watch closely in some Jane Austen flicks. Somebody is drinking Laudanum at some point. In another favorite movie, "From Hell," which is about Jack the Ripper, a doctor prescribes it to Johnny Depp's character (who already spent too much time in opium dens). The guy is comfortably numb throughout the whole movie. Can't find any Laudanum today, though. It isn't made anywhere in the world. Probably not even Thailand or The Netherlands. Leave it to me to become obsessed over a patent medicine that no longer exists, and that was considered "poison" even back then. Note: I have uploaded a photo of an actual period bottle of Laudanum. Sift through my photo album, and you'll find it. That's as close as I'll likely get to Laudanum. There is a possible answer, however -- get on the internet and find some weird people some place who make home versions of the stuff. Get a recipe. Make some. Get in a hurry and leave out a step or two. MY version of Laudanum is thus even more toxic and poisonous. Someone eventually finds me, nekked as Elvis, and dead as a Nazi who bit down too hard on a cyanide capsule. And thus was calmed the obsession for Laudanum. Call me a seer. RPH, Esq., N.V. ©Randall P. Hodge, Esq. 2008

Barack Odruggie

Saturday, February 09, 2008

Barack Odruggie Current mood: mischievous Category: News and Politics This is from today's New York Times. Sounds like Grateful Dead kind of stuff to me. Hilary Clinton's fat operatives have already spread this stuff around, and good for them. I'm sure there's more where this came from... "Years later in his 1995 memoir, he mentioned smoking "reefer" in "the dorm room of some brother" and talked about "getting high." Before Occidental, he indulged in marijuana, alcohol and sometimes cocaine as a high school student in Hawaii, according to the book. He made "some bad decisions" as a teenager involving drugs and drinking..." --Serge F. Kovaleski, NYT, 2/09/08 Let me just say this, about that... Where there's "smoking reefer in the dorm room with a brother," you can bet there's also a brother with a crack pipe. If BaROCK admits to reefer and cocaine madness, he might as well admit to crack, meth, and kinky midget love. The brother was packin'. We know it's all coming out. RPH, Esq. ©Randall P. Hodge, Esq. 2008

Hillary Clinton & CaRACK Obama

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Hillary Clinton and CaRACK Obama Current mood: amused Category: News and Politics After watching the Sunday news programs, I am amused that the campaign between CaRACK Obama and an increasingly desperate Hillary Clinton is getting meaner by the day. I'm all for dragging this thing down to a personal and immature level without equal in the history of the world. I want these candidates to lie, cheat, steal, kill, bitch slap each other and, most importantly, I want to see them call each other names. Ghetto names. Candidates, please say unforgivable things you'll regret for the rest of your lives. Obama's so-called uplifting and "hopeness" language has, in part, been stolen from other candidates. He has ripped off whole passages from a speech given by Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick, who had previously ripped off practically every other notable speech given by a democrat in the past 200 years. It isn't at all uplifting; it is pukesome. Besides, after eight years of BushSpeak, anyone, even Obama, sounds like a Churchill or Lincoln. And let us hasten to remember that these knuckleheads don't even write their own speeches. People who are 10,000+ times smarter than President Bush (the dumb one) writes his speeches. Yet he cannot give a decent speech – not even if human existence depended on it. The last president I know of who had a hand in writing his own speeches was Ronald Reagan. President Reagan loved to tinker with drafts prepared by his speechwriters. It was always a thrill to see a draft with Reagan's familiar scrawl. He often improved on the language crafted by the pros. Reagan was the Great Communicator, in both the written and spoken word. I recall his terrific newspaper and radio commentaries in the 1970's. Nuthin' like that today. But I digress, as usual. Back to name calling. In 1984, Reagan campaign staffers all agreed our primary purpose was to win the election against that dull awful Mondale. And we beat the crap out of him. It was also our dream to make Mafia Princess Geraldine Ferraro cry in public. I think we managed that a time or too. In 2008, if I were CaRACK Obama, I'd do my utmost to goad Hillary into calling me the N-Word. And Hilary has to get Obama to call her something worse, like the C-word. Yes, that would be wrong, and I condemn it in advance, but I'll be laughing. I'll say it again. When our choices consist of bald and old and phony John McCain, CaRACK Obama, and fat crooked Hilary Clinton…. Our choices, folks, suck. Seriously. RPH, Esq., N.V. ©Randall P. Hodge, Esq. 2008

Crunk and Konichiwa

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Crunk and Konichiwa Current mood: angsty Category: Life Recently I noticed the word "crunk," as a status or mood word on MySpace. Having spent the past ten years trying to swim down to the wreck of the Titanic, I have lost out on a lot. In particular, I missed such television programs as "Malcolm in the Middle," "The Office (NBC), and "Chappelle's Show." Lots of pop culture there. As I finally discover some of the stuff in reruns and on DVD, I am wont to pick up some of the phrases made popular and worn out years ago. For example, when I approach a group of friends, I greet them with, "morning, bitches." When I leave, it is the (apparently tiresome), "konichiwa, bitches." I call my good friend and lodger, Nick, "Darkness." There are other "Chappelle's Show" expressions that aren't appropriate for this forum. During this period of discovery, I also found online the "Urban Dictionary." Urban Dictionary It is from this source I learned the meaning of the word "crunk." I quote verbatim from one of the contributors to the site: "A cliched and overused hiphop term that has been beat to death more than "Bling-Bling" and "Shizzle". It means to get crazy and drunk. The term lost it's "cool" factor like two years ago, but that doesn't stop wiggers and wanna be gangstas from using the term as much as possible. "Crunk came into its own as the recognized sound of the new generation of Dirty South Rap, prompting white college fratboys everywhere to wander around going "WHHHUT!! OKAAY!! YEEEAAHHH!!" like annoying dipshits. and it's all thanks to Lil Jon, and by Lil Jon I mean Dave Chappelle." I am deeply hurt by the realization that I am no longer even the least bit cool. Nothing I say or do is hip any more. I have long feared this day, and now that know it actually hit with me about ten years ago, I don't know what to do. I am very happy that I haven't been "crunk" for almost ten months. The words and phrases I am using to "fit in" are about as slick as the "Beavis and Butthead" sayings I finally surrendered in the year 2000. These things – these realizations – happen to old people, of which I am most certainly one. There is nothing to do about this problem. I must avoid even THINKING these formally cool sayings and expressions, particularly when I am around people who were born after I graduated from law school in 1990. How can people be so young? The same way I can be so old, that's how. I remember life before the fax machine. We worshipped the first Xerox machine in town, as we thought it could steal our souls. But in the privacy of my den, where I spend about 22 hours a day watching television, I can reflect on what I missed while I was making my way down to the wreck of the Titanic. And I can watch the shows over and over and enjoy the humor. I just don't dare try and be hip, slick and cool around America's young people; I ain't. Kids will laugh at me, and they won't be polite about it. I know this because my friends and I made awful sport of "old people" trying to act OUR age when we were young. They were corny; we were cool. I am now corny. And I didn't make it to the wreck of the Titanic. As Dave Chappelle said in one sketch, "I'm just a nigga that love titties." Konichiwa, bitches. RPH, Esq. N.V. ©Randall P. Hodge, Esq. 2008

Colds & Extraordinarily Stupid People

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Colds and Stupid People Current mood: angsty I think I'm coming down with my fifth pacebutler cold since August. A hospital in the Belgian Congo is less contagious than that place. Fully 97% of the associates are sick, and they are coughing, hawking, spitting, blowing (noses), and touching things that I am destined to come along and handle. I wash my hands with pure bleach and gargle with Purell, or is it the other way around, but it doesn't help. If someone in the same STATE as me has a cold, the Ebola virus, avian flu, or typhus, I'm fi'n' ta catch it. Cough, cough, cough, cough. Nyquil. Ever hear of a liquor called Absinthe? It was really big in the 1880's in Paris. Supposed to give you a super buzz with hallucinations some of the time. Some herb called wormwood, they thought, caused the visions. The stuff is illegal in the States, which didn't stop me from bringing some home from London once. Let me tell you. The stuff tastes like ass. Well, not exactly like ass. It tastes like NYQUIL over ice, and Nyquil tastes like ass, on the rocks or not. I think. I don't want to give away too much of my fifth step. Absinthe is the only booze I didn't want to finish off in one sitting. Had I lived in Paris in the 1880's, I'd have passed on the Absinthe and moved to London and lived in an Opium Den with Jack the Ripper and John Merrick, the Elephant Man. Chasing the Dragon had to be interesting. A friend had eight years today. He is about three feet taller than I am. I tried to give him a hug and jumped up to make the hug as we height-challenged people are wont to do. Naturally, it backfired, and I caught his jaw with my shoulder. I think he bit off his tongue, but he bought Chinese for everyone, and that was my main concern anyway. On the way to work on Friday of last week, Nicholas and I witnessed an auto-pedestrian accident on Classen and 36th. Several kids were crossing the street. A moronic beeotch was heading north on Classen, and of course she was talking on a cell phone, texting fat people, and playing foosball, while driving a BMW, or something similar. A blind gorilla with a crayon could see the group of children crossing toward school. This lady saw them too. Rather than stop, she whipped around to the left and clipped one of the kids and knocked him down. I thought to myself, "Oh no you dit'in' just do that, and we've just seen the stupidest woman in America, which is saying a lot." What got me was the way the lady whipped her car around to miss the boys, when the logical thing would have been to stop, as we did, and let the pedestrians enjoy their right of way. If a crack smoking, dread lock having gangstah wants to walk out in front of a car, stop, and then flip the bird at the driver, well, the driver has to take it. No matter how tempting it might be to run him down, one simply cannot run over people. It just isn't done in polite society. Theoretically, any way. But here's hoping the chick who ran down the child received about 50 tickets, and that some cheesy TV-advertising attorney sues her big ass into the stone age. Oh, I forgot one detail. Ask Nicholas about this, as he noticed it too. After striking the child, the driver emerged from her car (still talking on her cell phone of course) and checked for damage to her fat car! I rarely use an explanation point (lesson learned from my former boss, Pat), but I'll use one here. Happy 8th Birthday Robert. Sorry about your tongue, dude. Konichiwa, bitches, it's 2003 again, and I just discovered Dave Chappelle RPH, Esq., N.V. ©Randall P. Hodge, Esq. 2008