Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Happy BirthDay to ME

On my birthday I always buy a package of Hostess cupcakes in case you forget about it. Then I take 2 candles out of the junk drawer and walk around for a few hours until I am all alone in the world.

Usually I am in a park next to a basketball court for some reason. Maybe I always live near basketball courts. I usually light the "cake" to the backdrop of "Born to Lose" by UFO on my walkman or diskman and now my Ipod.

Things you can do even though I am far away.

I don't think it would be a great deal of trouble for one you to start my very own Wikipeda article.

The soundtrack of your life today should include any UFO albums that you own or have been given by me. Worst case scenario go listen to the RomiusTexis Radio Station.

Best songs to get in my head:Dreaming of Summer- An aging UFO reunites. Dreaming of Summer nearly matches the original power of the classic UFO lineup.

I'm a loser- This cut/sample is a poor example of the studio album which is acoustic and electric guitar much like Zepplin. The live album is highly regarded. Rolling Stone called it one of the top 5 live albums of all time.

UFO moods are:

I think you can see why I might like that.

Maybe you can just rent Metropolitan. It is my favorite movie. You could print out a picture of me and prop it up next to you. I enjoy chocolate candy and popcorn with my movies. I talk during the previews so much that you might think I will disturb the film. Only if it is really bad and the only way I can keep you in the theatre with me is to keep you laughing. And even then we will just share secret whisperings.

Don't forget the coke.
Romius T.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Tomorrow is my birthday. Say Happy Birthday to me Bitch.

Which means you should have gotten me something by now. But you didn't did you? That's OK. I think our friendship is a little deeper than the course materialism that the white man spread on these shores 400 years ago.

You probably had no idea what to get me and what I really need more than anything, my dignity, isn't all that cheap. Even I wouldn't shell out that kind of cash for something so esoteric and functionally useless.

Don't feel bad if you didn't get me anything on my birthday you've just joined a long standing tradition in my family. It's become a running gag that "we" always forget my birthday.

Funny, I didn't forget it. And stopping by the supermarket on your way home from work with the latest Star Trek Novelization and few beef jerky sticks does not constitute a proper birthday for a 13 year old.

I think you all know that only real tradition I want to celebrate on my special day is ripping off corporate America for all the free shit I can.

Today I turn 36. I think that is old. Good thing all that weight I have gained since high school has given me a Rubinesque glow. I think it's because fat people have fewer wrinkles than skinny folks.

I have another admission for you. I am really 345 pounds. I hope that you really like me for whats in my inside. Because my outsides kinda smell like 2 day old fish.

Fat people sweat and I find it hard to reach all the boy parts now. It's not just the small penis, I think it's the added girth to my belly that keeps me from regularly cleaning my boy bits. Those boy parts are so full of cream cheese I now have to consider starting my own cheese cake making business.

All that because my Mom forgot to have me circumcised. Thanks, Mom. Nice birthday present. For all you ladies who like Mushrooms with your pizza you're just going to be out of luck.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

I messed up and posted a poker story about bacterial infected dildos over at my other blog. I meant to post it here.

Sorry. My bad. But you can still visit the post here. That website is really not supposed to have the kind of dark humor for dark humor's sake like this one does.

What I have told you in the past was that RomiusTexis is the home of my "real life only fictionalized."

I didn't really think that one through. I should have been more precise. My real life at work fictionalized is what I meant. Of course the Romius T. character got a lot of fleshing out over there, so it is kinda confusing for you and me sometimes.

I won't bore you with the details about my copy/paste function not working so there was no way I was going to rewrite the entire post on here and then delete the post over at R/t.

That wasn't so bad was it?

Since you were OK with that story, can I give you a little nugget to use the next time you are outdoors pissed, bored and in the company of a few willing friends?

I'd like to introduce the concept of "inappropriate clapping" for your use and pleasure. The inappropriate clapping technique works at most KAROKE bars or with most shit house bands. But feel free to use it a your child's rehearsals and at family gatherings.

Proper use of the inappropriate clapping entails only the simultaneous clap in the middle of any really annoying performance. Any point where it would seem to make no sense you just interject a bit of random clapping. People will follow along with you sometimes. Be prepared for that.

But make sure you have at least two friends with you when you attempt this. You may have to kick the shit out of the "German" waitress who actually enjoyed the musical stylings of her guitar solo playing 56 year old ex hippy whose vocal range mearly extended to " doing" most of the lyrics because he'd rather get high than remember words.

And just because today my brothers and I looked like the tourists you are always playing for suckers doesn't mean we're going to fall for the old "Sorry, I just learned English because I am from Germany" routine like the rest of your middle aged patrons.
I am just saying we all found it "strange" that a German national couldn't seem to recall the meaning of the term Gutten-Tag for us.

And if you do over hear us remark "that your cunt smelled worse than an 2 day old aborted fetus" let me suggest you just take the comment as it was intended.

As productive criticism, rather than as the "Bitchy snipings of nearly middle aged man suffering from young pussy withdrawal." As you so eloquently informed us in your delusional belief that a "Valley Girl accent" you affected could actually pass muster as proper Deutschland barking.

I shouldn't have to explain myself

If I had to it would it would fuck up the joke. Like if Michael Richards had to explain to people that he wasn't really just using the "N" word. That he is really just a character. He was just trying to shock you. That you are supposed to laugh at how inappropriate he's being.

Or like Andy Kaufman I just need you to laugh at the stuff that isn't funny. I am not certain that you really need to be let in on the joke. My job is to continually push forward the line of acceptable behavior until blowing yourself up in the middle of a romper room on Christmas Day is considered passe.

It's the only way we are going to win the War on Terror. So let me do my job. Peoples lives are at stake.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

A Talking Monkey visits with the Satan Fellowship and the 4God Commitee




Romius T., Rommie, Rom.




Still has some hair. Some consider him "Pudgy cute."

Philosopher's goatee.
For a white boy has a pretty good running right hander on the basketball court. But has really come into his own as a mid-range shooter.



K:FED, Lisa Loeb, Steve Nash's Wife, Jezebels Riot, Giada De Laurentiis










15 years of local community colleges. I think this is equvialent to like 3 bachelors degrees, but I am not sure.

To be cont'....

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

My New Job Opportunity

I can't believe that the book burners are going to get another victory.

O.J. Simpson was going to tell us how he did it after all these years. I mean if only for Marcia Clark's sanity we should allow him to be heard. You know she sits at home in the middle of some loop 3 tie knots crocheting and it hits her.

"How did he shower away all that blood?"

"Was my timeline right?"

Marcia..Marcia...Marcia... shouldn't have to rock herself to sleep every night just because Bill O'Reilly wants to save the world.

"Of course the timeline was was just some dumb fucking stupid jury...that's all."

If Bill's gonna go around discouraging books by murderers for profit, I might be in for some trouble.

Frankly, I think this whole moral outrage at murderers trying to earn an honest living puts any future creative career of mine in jeopardy. I don't know if I can write any other kind of book.

But just when life looked its darkest, I discovered a possible opportunity with a new Internet start up magazine entitled "The World Can Lick My Hairy Scrotum."

The magazine has an impressive resume as its editor is nothing other than a world famous prescription wielding talking monkey!

Cuddles for me.

This post is dedicated to saving 12.3 minutes of time today through using Google's internet accelerator. And then using all that "saved up time" for staring down large predators.

Monday, November 20, 2006

I am going to write the book on serial killers you've always wanted to read

Of course writing a book on how people decide to become serial killers and making it funny is not as easy as it sounds.

But if anyone can do this you know your good buddy Romius can. Of course if I can't I can always decide to just go ahead and become a serial the killer. That would practically guarantee an upfront deal.

I figure I will get Cosmo Kramer to punch up any racist punch lines and Judith Regan will eagerly volanteer to publish it via a third party deal.

I am not too sure about how "deep" I will have to go in order to get into character, but you should know that I am willing to do whatever it takes.

Like today I started staring at the pit-bull who lives next to me in order to establish some kind of dominance. I stare at him until I can get him to stop barking.

I was in front of the shared gate for 3 hours today. Just staring at him. The dog went nuts for a while. He's always barking at anyone in his view. But I don't blink until the dog evades my stare.

The scary thing is this fence is only about 3 feet high and I have yet to figure out why the dog just doesn't jump over it and tear me to kibbles and bits.

I've also been thinking of way I could kill the monster without anyone figuring it out.

I've been looking at all the great ways they kill animals in China over at Katie's webpage. Those Chinese do not fuck around. They see a dog and it is like "soup for two" if you know what I mean.

I know what you're thinking, "That's just T. acting a fool." But I really hate dogs. I got bit as a kid. I was just 7 when a German Sheppard twice as big as me took a good chunk of my leg off. I needed something like 9 stitches to close up the gaping wounds.

I think I asked to see them put the animal to sleep. I remember what a let down watching it was. Fucking thing just chocking on its vomit. But no blood. I wanted to see a little blood at least. Dad promised me they had to cut off his head to check for rabies after it appeared I was a little disappointed in the execution.

Strange that the parents left it up to a seven year old kid to decide if they would "put" the dog down. It is the one decision in life I can say I would never question, never regret.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

A Second Letter of Concern about Mrs. Steve Nash

Dear Mrs. Nash,

I used to lose quite a bit of sleep over reporting an incident that involved a rather skanky ho bag from Hooter's and your 2 time NBA MVP husband. In fact when it wasn't keeping me up, it was giving me nightmares.

That was until I did some googling myself. Turns out your hubbie has been linked numerous times in the press to an assortment of women.

Most notably of late the great Nelly Furtado. I don't think Steve is very gay, so I don't see why he'd like Nelly. After all Steve did invent his own dance and that is so not GAY.

For the record, Steve has said that he loves his wife and two kids. That he stands by them no matter how many "steve nash references" some rapper from the southside of philly puts in his music about "having game like 2 time MVP'er."

Kudos, Steve Nash. Kudos to you sir. You will not be swayed so easily to the homosexual lifestyle. I know you don't care that Arizona won't ban Gay-Sex Marriage or that the Republicans lost the majority of the House and Senate even after installing electronic voting devices in poll booths around the country. It doesn't mean anything to guys like us.

You and I both know that just because we may enjoy showing off our hairy "man bear" chests to crowds of admiring sweaty men, that in no way endangers our masculinity.

Mrs. Nash stand firm. Your husband is not going to leave you. In your native Paraguayan, "No esto going anywhere."

This post is dedicated to Tim Thomas for going 4 for 10 in two straight games.

Friday, November 17, 2006

Orange you glad you are not my friend in real life? Or how you should never add Larry King as your MySpace pal.

Here's the part where I pretend that I am not just visiting this site to take a look at all the playmate babes displayed so classily all through out your background.

No I am really here just to say "Hi." Sure there are all kinds of ways to say "Hi." But dropping down a few lines on someones myspace says I care. I really care.

Sow how you doing? How's that novel coming along? Got any funny characters yet?

Also if your site doesn't have any playmate characters all over it, maybe it has ponies. Do you like ponies? Because I don't.

I would also prefer you didn't go looking around my other myspace friends and look to find which ones I gave the exact same post to.
Because we are real friends and any amount of time I devote to any of my other friends doesn't mean a thing. You know that don't you.

So how is that House coming? Is it getting all fancy? Have you settled in. Did you remember to leave a door open so I could get in and hide in the basement? Did you remember to delete all those love e-mails you keep sending me so your "hubby" won't find 'em?

That's a good girl.

Did you really think I could forget you? Maybe you could post a few more photos on your myspace.

I miss seeing you how you really are. Flash frozen and digitized. You're so less "back talky" this way too!

I still consider us friends even though somehow you have misplaced me on your "BFF" list. It totally did not bring me back to some high school era of insecurity.

I know our friendship is long lasting, I am in your will. But other people are starting to wonder. Why don't we just ease their minds and put me back in your list.

Otherwise, I mean who knows what I am capable of. Nothing really bad, I won't go after your kids. I realize you need the child support money for your "medicine."

Momma needs her medicine.

We might be brothers. We might see each other every day. But I still feel the need to "connect with you."

Maybe it is because I don't like being homeless. That's what our other brother enjoys. But he's hobo sheik like that. Me I just prefer to get on your good side.

How's that novel coming anyways? Is it going anywhere? Any conflict resolution yet?

Sorry about making that crack about you being a hobo. I know you're not a hobo. I just said that cuz your brother would think it's funny.

You're not gonna stop introducing me to all those crack whores you know are you? I need to get laid. It's been a while now. But I think that you know that, don't you. Don't hold out on me buddy.

I could have just given the same post to you. I know we aren't MySpace friends yet, but I do come over to your house for a little "poker." And I am not just talking about card games am I?

Is it inappropriate for me to make jokes about your "milfish" wife? Then I guess the other things I do to her are even more inappropriate aren't they?

Go ahead add me.

The writer's flaw. A hot chick always has just one flaw. You know to keep her from being perfect, so none of the fat chicks get all insecure.

I was thinking about running off with her. She is really hot. Except for that problem with her eyebrows. They are out of control.

I might be a dude, but I think even I go near the tweezers a bit more often. It's like they are on some kind of mission to take over the middle of her face. If her face was the board game Risk the brows would be making a bee line to Southern Europe.

And I don't think I need to tell you to stay away from choosing Southern Europe when we play risk together. You know I am always Southern Europe. Fuck, my name is Romius Texis muthu fucka.

I also like to select North Africa. It's a bitch to keep the middle in that board game, but watch out if you do. All you fuckers who take Brazil have some kind of vendetta for North Africa it seems.

And some people like my ex-roomie "Fro" just seem to love to antagonize me by selecting the home of the Roman Empire away from an actual Italian. That just means a blood vendetta on your ass.

I know earlier I tried to make it sound like I never tweeze my brows, but I think we all know that I do. How else do you think they look so good? That ain't nature.

This post is dedicated to getting drunk by drinking your youngest brother's beer. Not's like he ain't been drinking your coke. Also to watching tv on the internet. Cuz that is cool. Also to peeing. Sometimes you need the relief.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

I just want to live. To be free. And to occasionally find one of those 3 pack Zingers repackaged as a bonus 4 pack

I spent all last night on the funniest post you will never read.

Right near the end of slogging through it, my page disappeared. Like it got sucked down some vortex of "that shit is too funny" and got greedily devoured by our Google masters.

Fuck Google. And I know they are watching, listening and saving everything I do on the internets. So you know I just said Fuck You.

What ya gonna do about it? Nothing. Cuz you're bunch of faggots and pussies. That's why. You can't do anything to me because if you want access to my trade you must abide by my internal proxies and shit.

I'd tell you about the post, but that would be like sharing an inside joke with you and then not sharing all the inside info you need to get it.

Let's just say you had to be there. Let's pretend you were.

In the post I rant for a good 10 paragraphs about how I am so much better than all of you. Because real life people make "icky faces" at me all day long. For no good reason.

I can rant for 10 paragraphs because you all seem to enjoy picking on people in real life. Pickin' on folks is something I avoid. It's why I am better than you. That'swhy I pick on K-fed. Because he's not human.

All my 'real life' torture builds into a riff about how my well known inferiority complex isn't really true after all. Next I admit getting a bit depressed when I contemplated how Three Toed Sloth gets like 10x the hits and 17 more comments than I do. I've never gotten 17 comments on anything that I've ever written. Except for the Dr. Phil thing.

Sure, most of the 17 posts where asinine at best or just cutesy. But one came from a pretty hot chick. Well her back was pretty cute and that's all I saw.

But I got over my infatuation with Cheese lover's back pretty quickly after I read some of her myspace blog entries.

"we are all going to DIE if we get skinny."

Notice her use of capitalization. I opined that the blogger borrows her style from President for Life George W. Bush and his rhetorical use of "9-11 changed everything."

Only in reality you are not going to die if you get skinny. In real life only good things happen to you if you get skinny. The most important one is you will live longer. Getting skinny is the only scientifically proven way to expand the human lifespan. That's why all those starving Ethiopians live so long. So quit thinking skinny doesn't make you look better, because it does.

Cheese lover disagrees with me she thinks that, "We all look fine."

What... you've never been to a Walmart? We most certainly do not all look fine.

Allow me to translate your whining about body issues into something you might understand. Self pity coming from a man.

I am slacker. No amount of hard work or good luck will change that. I may never be able to support myself, but that's OK. Because I have to come to accept that about myself.

Why can't society? Why don't we abandon consumerism and gender roles and you can pay for my dinner and support my ass while I attempt half-assed blog entries and pretend to write that novel nobody will read.

I'll watch the kids, honey.

This post is dedicated to blogger for fucking up the actually funny post that should be here. Try and make some adsense money on this post assholes.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

There is something disconcerting about munching sunflower seeds and watching porn at the same time.

It is kinda like the time I washed my ass with that rag under the bathroom sink that had all the Comet left on it. I accidentally used it and it burned my ass for a few days before finally I rinsed it off.

That was a big mistake. If you do scrub your ass with comet. Make sure to rinse that shit out right away. Don't let it fester, otherwise it stings like fuck. Your ass will end up with blisters on it. And explaining to your girl friend how you got infected blisters from scrubbing your ass with a comet soaked rag is difficult. I don't care how understanding she is.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Technical stuff I don't know a lot about

I have switched to something called an RSS feeder. I am not sure if it worked or not. It is from Feedburner and I think you have to download some free software in order to read me on your I-pod.

I know that some of you are aware that I have gone beta-blogger on you. What you may not know is that I had to change my stat counter because of that.

My old counter was BlogPatrol. It sucked eggs. The only cool thing about it was I trusted how many hits it recorded for me. I am not so sure about this one.

But has some crazy ass functions. Like I get a map of where all my visitors are from. I can even click on to key word searches and discover exactly where you live.

So lets say you thought searching for "masturbating girls" was a great idea. Then you decided to click on to my blog. I know your general location. Freaky.

I promise you are all in good hands with me. I would never divulge info like that. But I wonder why no one else has. We've all heard about the Cragislist guy and some people pay for their stats. I am guessing you can find insanely detailed info out that way.

Fellow bloggers/readers how do you get your stats? Have you found out any crazy detailed info? Don't go giving personal info away, but some general stuff would be cool.

Oops I did it again,

Not only does Brit love a good dirty Sanchez she ends all of her life long commitments by e-mail.

Brit Brit filed for divorce by Text message. Go here to witness K-fed almost getting upset while looking at a text message on his phone.

World exclusive. That some chick spammed me with.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Evil teen "pop princess" divorces dancing "hero."

Brittney Spears filed for divorce. I am pretty sure this is disaster for my book idea. Who's gonna want to read about K-Fed now that he is not royalty by marriage?

No one, that's who.

I may have to get a job at Circle K. I just never considered myself brave enough to work there before. But if the "Fed" can handle all the shit that goes his way, I guess I can put my life in harms way so that you can get your Slurpie™ on.

Monday, November 06, 2006

The Hunting of K-Fed Vol.2

"Sometimes I wish that things hadn't gotten so screwed up between us."

I know you are probably holding all those things I said about you against me.

Like how I told you that Brittney was so way cuter before she ever laid eyes on you. That you aren't successful because of anything you ever did other than forget to use that condom you never think of buying.

Or how you are just a young preteen girl's trailer park trash wet dream. Or like how I imagined Brit's vulva needed to be "popped in a Florida trailer park restroom floor."

Maybe I shouldn't have said any of those things. I guess the "what if" question lingers throughout anything and everything that goes down.

But I still don't think that is any reason to avoid me.

Because you can't avoid destiny. I am going to ghost write that autobiography of yours. How do you think stories like this end? Nothing but fairy tales, man. You are going to rescue me.

Take a hard look at your music, man. Nobody understands you any better. They just gonna toss around words like wigger. I am not black, so I am not sure if I can even use the word wigger. But I did. Maybe one of my black friends will tell me to take it out of this post. And if they do, I will. But that doesn't stop you from being a wigger, or from the whole world thinking your a wigger.

We aren't myspace friends. It's cool. I'm really glad that everything is where it is between us, for now. If I could have it one way or the other, I'm still glad I have it this way. Because trials only make you stronger man, ask Saddam. You take as long as you need to get there man.

Just get there is all.

This post is dedicated to the art of stealing someone else's blog post and making it your own. Go see.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

The Hunting Of K-Fed. Vol.1

After reading an article on K-fed I decided that I had come up with my next employment opportunity.

But my little money making scam has come up against a small snag. Kevin Federline doesn't want to be my friend.
I can't believe that Kevin Federline has so many friends that he can ignore my requests on My.Space to add me, but he has.

But if K-Fed is half as smart as I think he is, then he will end up adding me as his friend.

And I will then be able to ask him my idea about becoming his Ghost Writer for his Pre-Brittney Autobiography. What a glorious opportunity for the impressionable youth out there to learn about all the hints and secrets and life stories that a man of his stature, age and wisdom can impart upon us.

I look forward to carrying out K-Fed's message, whatever it is.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Beta Blogger has arrived!


I have finally gone Beta in Blogger. Now you don't have to search all over for posts on alike subjects. And I don't have to try and link all those subjects together in my posts.

I still have a lot of work to do in labeling all my posts. I am taking requests for any particular subject you would like to see on the sidebar.

If you are worried that my blog no longer links to you, don't. I will get around to linking back to you. You will also see a few different lists and other things as I play around with beta's new features.

Why I hate Cops!

Hang around me long enough and you'll get exposed to one of my diatribes against police officers.

Why I hate them so much:

You are more likely to get killed by a police officer than terrorist. That's right. And that's after accounting for 9/11.. If you are sitting at the local Donut shop you'd rather see Osama Bin Laden walk in the door strapped with a backpack and a detonator than the have local county deputy stop you in the wrong part of town after midnight for being brown.

Being a cop is safer than you think.

Working at Circle K or driving a taxi is more dangerous than being a cop. Yet you never hear chicks speak in some cultish glow of affection about gas station attendants.

They don't do anything.

Most of a cop's time is spent doing paperwork, or dealing with arguing spouses and busting celebrities for pot. It is extremely unlikely that cop will ever save your life or even be around when a crime takes place against you.

What is possible is that if you are unlucky enough to get mugged by a mob of prostitutes while exiting from a strip club the cops will only look to avoid filling out a police report.

Cops get laid more often than I do.

Because too many women many still worship these guys as heroes. It's not because their jobs are dangerous, it's just that women are all to eager to submit before the power and authority that police represent.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Has Keith Olbermann "Jumped the Shark?"

Keith Olbermann is perhaps best know as the goofy former anchor of ESPN's highlight show SportsCenter.

He should be best known as the finest modern day impressionist of Edward R. Murrow. Or known as the guy who injected liberals and democrats with a much needed backbone during his "Special Commentaries" which appear periodically on the nightly Countdown show on MSNBC.

Olbermann's best special commentary was one of the most powerful acts of American patriotism and courage that I have witnessed by an American Citizen in the last 20 years.

In that commentary, Olbermann takes on the Military Commissions Act. A heinous act which overturned 500 years of Western beliefs that limited the power of government to arrest and dispose of its citizens with impunity.

Keith's emotional plea and outrage is best summed up by this quote:

"We have handed [Bush] a blank check drawn it against our own freedom."

I found in Olbermann's near loss of emotional control and cracking voice the only "sane reaction" I have encountered regarding the loss of the 4th Amendment.

On his game Keith Olbermann is the most compelling figure in broadcasting. And that is not just opinion. It is confirmed by the ground-storm of support Countdown with Keith Olbermann has enjoyed during the latest ratings sweep.

Keith has weathered the ship of low ratings during his introduction to an unprepared American audience. He has mastered the ratings rudder by offering the lone voice of dissent amidst a background of acquiescence among the MSM.

His thundering increase in viewership is driven mostly by liberals, discovering Keith via these special commentaries. It is convention wisdom for the demons of this liberal viewership that their electoral failures are a result of softness in the face of attacks by the Republican machinery.

In order to placate his new found allies and kowtowing to his well known ego, Keith has emphasized in his new commentaries a political bias so overt as to be impossible to deny.

He has askewed the natural neutrality of reporters and instead infused his newscast with a vileness and anger that bares comparison to Rush Limbaugh in its tone and frivolity. It is still fun to watch. Well done hackery usually is.

Keith takes the rough and tumble talk of politics as treason. He would insist that the real danger to our democracy lies not in the efforts to obstruct our democracy, but in the spin doctoring of hollow political lies and Bush's careless semantics. His view is dangerously naive.

The best way to examine the danger we all face is not to deconstruct the political ramblings of an idiot, but to lay bear the many fold losses Freedom has suffered. We are not simply faced with another "bad" Republican administration. We are facing down evil.

George Bush and Corporate America are hell bent on destroying freedom. Their wish is to usher in the Surveillance Society.

I implore you, Keith give no credence to political partisanship or politics as usual. I urge you to attack the real threat to our democracy. The creeping Silent Totalitarianism™ of the corporatocracy and right- winged religious fundamentals.

Why are there no comments on the Diebold and E-Voting crisis in this Country? Why no 'special' comments on the passage of a National I.d. Card or the countless other real trespasses on our civil liberties?

Let Rush and Coulter distract this country from the real issues with their diversionary reliance on spinning the hot button issue of the day. And go back to defending the Constitution.

It needs your help.


Readers of this blog are always a day ahead of the curve. The venerable blog The Daily Howler in its November 3 issue takes Keith to task for spinning the controversy surrounding a comment by John Boehner.

The Howler exclaims," Yes, Keith was playing his viewers for fools, trying to act like a pseudo-con spinner. And you could just tell that Keith was angry! Why, he even affected the outraged tone he’s been perfecting in the past year."

Like me the Howler thinks Keith is a "hero," but wants him to address real issues and quit "trying to act like a pseudo-con spinner."