Round 20: bring out yer dead!
Mrs Hill takes the dick with Anwar al-Awlaki. It’s been a week and no retraction, so I think it’s for reals this time. You know what to do, ma’am. Sorry to all those peeps missing out on Steve Jobs; the Dead Pool moves in mysterious ways.
Right! Onward!
0. Rule Zero (AKAn Steve’s Rule): your pick has to be living when picked. Also, nobody on Death Row.
1. Pick a celebrity. Any celebrity — though I reserve the right to nix picks I never heard of (I don’t generally follow the Dead Pool threads carefully, so if you’re unsure of your pick, call it to my attention).
2. We start from scratch every time. No matter who you had last time, or who you may have called between rounds, you have to turn up on this very thread and stake your claim.
3. Poaching and other dirty tricks positively encouraged.
4. Your first choice sticks. Don’t just blurt something out, m’kay?
5. It’s up to you to search the thread and make sure your choice is unique. I’m waayyyy too lazy to catch the dupes. Popular picks go fast.
6. The pool stays open until somebody on the list dies. Feel free to jump in any time. Noobs, strangers, drive-bys and one-comment-wonders — all are welcome.
7. If you want your fabulous prize, you have to entrust me with a mailing address. If you don’t want the fabulous prize, you’re too smart to be a regular. It takes me forever to put them in the mail, packages go by slow boat, typically take minimum eight to ten weeks and lose the will to live along the way.
8. The new DeadPool will begin 6pm WBT (Weasel’s Blog Time) the Friday after the last round is concluded.
The fabulous prize? Sweet, sweet Spotted Dick! There’s no dick like Aunty’s dick!
October 7, 2011 — 6:00 pm
Comments: 120
O HAI
I haven’t posted tonight? Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure I…oh, okay, okay. Fine. Hang on. Let me rustle up a chicken picture.
Got distracted. I guess I fail blog today; even my spammers are giving advice:
You will have to master the artwork and technology of site visitors to your website. Is the web page without site visitors is like having an ice cream store within the desert, situated one hundred km from the closest highway. It has the most efficient ice cream in the world, but when anyone enters your retailer, you will be defeated.
Dang it! Now what will I do with all this efficient ice cream?
Oh, hey — I chased a fox all around the yard in my socks this afternoon. (No, Dr Seuss, the fox wasn’t in my socks). It was just at dusk and the chickens had gone to roost but were not locked up yet, and I look out the kitchen and see a big, fat fox out my back door like some kind of blues lyric. Man, you shoulda seen me move.
“AAAAAAUUUUUURRRRR!” I screamed. And, “WWWOOOOOOORRRRAAAAGH!” And, “YAAAAARRRRRAAAAAAGH!” All running and flailing and waving my arms.
God, I hope the neighbors weren’t sitting in the garden.
Okay, Dead Pool tomorrow, 6 sharp Weasel Blog Time. Be here or be a railroad engineer!
October 6, 2011 — 11:13 pm
Comments: 32
This is me, back when people liked me
I sat down to do a Photoshop of this picture, but I thought — what can I add? What can I possibly do to this picture to make it weirder or more embarrassing than it already is? Dude is reading a picture book about himself to a group of under-fives. (Anyhow, Nice Deb posted a Photoshop derived from the same image before I’d managed to scrape together an idea).
It’s not a book so much about him, actually, as First Dog Bo. The word balloon says “a puppy!!!” which I guess he must have announced from the presidential podium.
I looked it up on Amazon, so I could link to the actual book, but I can’t work out which one it is. It’s not Bo Obama: The White House Tails. I don’t think it’s Bo Obama: First Dog of the United States of America. Doesn’t look like Puppy Power Bo Obama #1 (sayyyyy…did they steal that from Scrappy Doo?). Not First Pooch: The Obamas Pick a Pet. I dunno. Maybe it’s The First Pup: The Real Story of How Bo Got to the White House. Definitely not First Dog of 1600 Pooch’lvania Avenue: My First Year in Arf! Arf! Office! or First Puppy’s New Home. Or First Dog or Bo, America’s Commander in Leash.
Geeeeeeez, people! I know first pets have been a part of the landscape since Nixon were a pup, but — get a grip!
October 5, 2011 — 10:37 pm
Comments: 48
Where the jam sammiches at?
Well, well…lookee what turned up in my front yard last night.
We’ve caught glimpses — or imagined we’ve caught glimpses — of badgers before, but this is the first one to turn up on the naturecam. And a big fat boy he was, too.
After a cooler than normal Summer, we’ve just had a few days of blazing heat. Well, blazing heat for England. And they call it Indian Summer too, poor dears, without knowing why (they think it has something to do with the Raj).
But last night the spell broke, and the world remembered it’s October, the wind shifted, the cold blew in and — voilà — badger in the garden. There’s a sett about three quarters of a mile from here, but if he’s a bachelor, he may be setting up housekeeping nearby.
Oh, that’ll do wonders for Uncle B’s pansies.
October 4, 2011 — 9:20 pm
Comments: 15
We are all Meghan McCain
I love making fun of Meghan McCain. It’s so pleasantly guilt-free.
Normally, I would feel kind of sorry for anyone so badly and publicly used. Meghan’s friends in the media only love her because she is Republican and deliciously stupid. It is a signal characteristic of stupid people that they are too stupid to realize they’re stupid (really. There’s been science and stuff).
But Meghan pushes herself out there hard, and then is too stupid to realize it makes her a public figure. Fair game. Ripe for the ridiculing.
If you didn’t read Red State’s hilarious McCain parody, there are bits of it left here. Unfortunately, the context is a take-down letter from her lawyer.
This law blog has a most enjoyable (read: bitchy) post on why Meghan’s complaint is bogus and what to do about it.
Short answer: MOAR RIDICULE!
October 3, 2011 — 9:50 pm
Comments: 38