I smell…

… a rat.

Baby Cop Killa*

So, I was in Seattle this past week making up words to say in front of the Ninth Circuit…you know, the usual.

While there, I ventured out to a comedy club in the burbs (literally in a strip mall) – keepin it classy, Seattle.  The truth is that a friend of a friend is comedian and he was hosting at the club and let me and my co-worker in for free (plus a Jell-o shot.  Again, keepin it classy).

Anywho, I saw Shane Mauss (pronounced “Moss” – he’s sensitive about that).  Here is a little clip.  Who does he remind you of?  Maybe a slower, less bright Mylephnt?  Cause I couldn’t stop thinking of Leph the entire time I was at this show…

*The other guests with Shane on Conan were Ice-T and Dwane Wade.  He was joking about how between himself, Conan, and Wade, Ice-T looked like a “Baby Cop Killa”.  Maybe it was funnier in person?  You had to be in a strip mall to get it.

Hell yeah we are…

Haven’t had a stressful day in years.  Huh.

Why women with love handles are better at dealing with stress

Independent women who have a bit of a tum may enjoy significant health advantages over hourglass-shaped sirens, says a 37-nation study in the journal, Current Anthropology.

Elizabeth Cashdan, a Utah University anthropologist, says that being wasp-waisted can carry a sting – it may mean missing out on the hormones that make women physically stronger, more competitive and better able to deal with stress.

Her study shows that across the world, women’s average waist-to-hip ratio is higher than the magic number of 0.7, the upper threshold of a classic hourglass figure – and the shape long thought by anthropologists to be a sexually mesmerising sign of fertility.

But why, asked Cashdan, are women globally bigger than the size supposed to bring optimum mating success? She searched for another factor and arrived at androgens, a class of hormones that includes testosterone.

Androgens increase the waist-to-hip ratio in women by boosting levels of visceral fat, which is carried around the waist. Raised levels of androgens are linked to increased strength, stamina and competitiveness in women, says Cashdan. “These effects may be particularly useful where a woman must depend on her own resources to support herself and her family.”

Trading the benefits of a thin waist for better ability to be independently resourceful may prove a good deal in many societies, she adds – and this in turn may alter male preferences.

Thus, in Japan, Portugal and Greece, where women tend to be less economically independent, the men say they place a higher value on a thin waist than do men in Britain or Denmark, where there tends to be more sexual equality.

And in some non-Western societies where food is scarce

and women bear most of the responsibility for finding it, men prefer larger waist-to-hip ratios.

“Whether men prefer a waist-to-hip ratio associated with lower or higher androgen levels should depend on the degree to which they want their mates to be strong, tough, economically successful and politically competitive,” Cashdan hypothesises.

And anyway, she adds waspishly: “From a woman’s perspective, men’s preferences aren’t the only thing that matters.”

As long as we’re talking birds, part 2…

My new favorite family guy episode. This Thanksgiving…give the turkey the bird.

Redemption

I was feeling disappointed by the state-that-raised-me when I saw Nebraska’s electoral map…

And, my discomfort makes makes sense when compared to the district-in-which-I-currently-reside…

However, I have was totally redeemed when I saw in the Omaha World Herald, that FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HISTORY, Nebraska may split its electoral votes.  Omaha, my fine city, will go for Obama.  As of today, Omaha’s one vote is the lone hold-out, as Missouri and North Carolina have now been projected.

Obama is not the only one making history.

OMAHA ‘08!  Uh, I mean, OBAMA ‘08!

Woof Woof

Barney lashes out.  Can you blame him?  A newer, cuter, fluffier puppy is moving in.  Yes we can.

My favorite part is the sassy commentary.

Do you know the “real” Sarah Palin?

One is a drag queen strutting down 17th Street in Dupont Circle, D.C.

One is potentially the next Vice President of the United States.

Can you tell the difference?

I’m no dog whisperer, but…

…my dog is saying “John McCain, you suck.”  You can see it in his eyes.  He’s pissed.  I try to console him, but he swears that he’s packing up his snausages and moving to Canada if McCain gets elected.  And, he’s got connections, I can just deport him there if I so choose.

Stay out of my state. Period.

From the Omaha World Herald…

“Palin’s visit to Nebraska comes as national polls show that McCain is struggling in the presidential race. It also comes as Obama makes a historic bid to win one of Nebraska’s electoral votes – the first time a Democrat has competed in this Republican stronghold in four decades.

Democrats and others have said Palin’s visit to Nebraska indicates that McCain can’t even count on traditional red states like Nebraska this year.

Palin denied that, saying she asked to come to the Midwest.

‘The pundits were saying, Check out where she’s going. She’s going to Nebraska. The pundits were saying, The only reason she would be going there is because they’re scared. They have to shore up votes,’ Palin said.

‘I so wanted to reach into that TV and say no. I’m going to Nebraska because I want to go to Nebraska,’ Palin said.”

————————

First of all, nobody goes to Nebraska because they want to go to Nebraska.  I would know.  Own up and tell the great people of Nebraska that you are there because you and your running mate are scared shitless that you are about to lose the presidency to a black man with terrorist ties.  That’s right, your proverbial goose is slowly cooking. You stopped off in Nebraska to campaign for one measly electoral vote in a solidly red state.  Sad.

Second, I had never made this connection before but seeing some dumbass present Palin with a University of Nebraska – Omaha Mavericks Hockey jersey really killed me.  Why?  Because it made me resent my darling little niece in this picture…

It says “ador-a-bull:  Future UNO alum.”   My niece is still ador-a-bull, but now I associate the UNO Mavericks with a bat-shit-crazy wolf hunter from Alaska.  Sigh.   Puppykiller Palin ‘08.

Deporter, out.

Moose in the headlights

Really?  Really?  This might be old news, but I just saw this.  And by the way, is this Couric interview ten days long or what?  Every time I browse around the internet there is a new clip of moose-for-brains in that ridiculous pink suit blabbing incoherently about loose nukes, Pakistan, the bailout, and moose jerky.

I need two things from potential VP Palin:

1.  I need her to speak in complete sentences.  There is clearly something in the beauty pageant manual about stammering about and then trailing off when you don’t know how to answer a question.   How is “everywhere like such as” different from “(mid-sentence) maybe I would take issue with but…(trail off).”  What the F are you saying?  String together a noun and a verb, then pause.  Rinse and repeat.  Throw in an adjective if you are feeling frisky.  Not that hard.

2.  I need someone in the #2 spot that has at least thought about the issues of our day prior to being VP.  Honestly.  Anyone.  Someone off the street that has, oh, I don’t know, read a paper in the past 20 years, and sat there and thought about what they read.  Maybe discussed it with a friend or a co-worker.  Maybe took a position on it.  Anything.  Just some indication that she has the ability to analyze an issue.  Any issue.

Ugh.

Deporter, out.

The Streak Continues (2)….

I can’t quite compete with a 14-year New Year’s Eve music streak…however, I’ve got my own streak going. Both eves of the new year in D.C. thus far have been spent nursing someone back to health. El duderino and I rung in 2007 in the back of a cab on our rushed way home from the 9:30 Club where we didn’t quite last long enough to see the main act. Duderino had one too many (and he wasn’t drunk if you catch my drift).

This year it was my turn to ruin an otherwise valid excuse to party. Luckily, T&A (yes, I said T&A) brought the party to us. An amazing menu of potato soup, homemade pizza, brownies, and Scotch on the rocks hit the spot (see above).

On a side note, I’m burying the hatchet and accepting the fact that I was invited to the blog in “phase two.” And that statement was in no way passive aggressive.