Palau

Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt, washed the t-shirt 23 times, threw the t-shirt in the ragbag, now I'm polishing furniture with it.

Exclusive Photo Essay – A Shotgun Wedding

A nation is agog (or bored, take your pick) over the coming blessed nuptials between Bristol Palin, America’s Child Bride® and Levi whatsisname, America’s Redneck®.

It’s all been a bit hasty, but young Bristol’s rumoured to have already chosen the invitations :

the cake

the caterer

the limo service

the honeymoon venue

and last but not least….. the dress:

But no choice when it comes to the actual husband. That one’s up to Mom and the McCain campaign.

UPDATE: Awwww, look, don’t they look the very image of an ecstatically happy couple? Whatchamacallit even got a tattoo. Awwww.

The (Not Quite A) Maiden Tribute to Modern Babylon

The shotgun wedding of the century is a go, apparently. It’s either that or the hell-yeah redneck fiance gets charged with statutory rape – Bristol Palin is still under 18.

Oh and nothing at all to do with boosting the McCain campaign with the People Magazine/National Enquirer vote. Oh no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

Who wants to bet that the only day the happy couple can possibly be married is this Thursday, though?

Comment of The Weekend

Has to be the story about the assholery of John McCain by Mary-Kay Gamel that’s doing the internet rounds. [Though I don’t have to remind regular blog readers this, because it is doing the rounds, take it with a big pinch of salt.]:

On the question of McCain’s often abusive personality and inability to control either his sense of entitlement or his temper, a friend sent me the below-cited e-mail text from a professor in California. Unlike the anonymously sourced rubbish circulated by the Republicans to attack Obama, this eyewitness account of a vacation from hell with John McCain has the ring of credibility to it. Here it is.

MY HOLIDAY WITH JOHN McCAIN

It was just before John McCain’s last run at the presidential nomination in 2000 that my husband and I vacationed in Turtle Island in Fiji with John McCain, Cindy, and their children, including Bridget (their adopted Bangladeshi child).

It was not our intention, but it was our misfortune to be in close quarters with John McCain for almost a week, since Turtle Island has a small number of bungalows and their focus on communal meals force all vacationers who are there at the same time to get to know each other intimately.

McCain arrived at our first group meal and started reading quotes from a pile of William Faulkner boo ks with a forest of Post-Its sticking out of them. As an English Literature major myself, my first thought was “if he likes this so much, why hasn’t he memorized any of this yet?” I soon realized that McCain actually thought we had come on vacation to be a volunteer audience for his “readings” which then became a regular part of each meal. Out of politeness, none of the vacationers initially protested at this intrusion into their blissful holiday, but people’s buttons definitely got pushed as the readings continued day after day.

Unfortunately this was not his only contribution to our mealtime entertainment. He waxed on during one meal about how Indo-Chine women had the best figures and that our American corn-fed women just couldn’t meet up to this standard. He also made it a point that all of us should stop Cindy from having dessert as her weight was too high and made a few comments to Amy, the 25 year old wife of the honeymooning couple from Nebraska that she should eat less as she needed to lose weight.

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