Monday, April 25, 2005

Ode to Frank J. (cont.)

Rover looked over at John. “Are you sure she can be trusted? That she’s truly one of us?”

John shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much. Considering Arnold’s in our party, she being one of us isn’t very hard to believe.”

“But are you sure?”

“Positive.” John reassuringly patted Rover on the shoulder. “You’ll get use to the provocative behavior.”

Rove looked at John darkly. “Eh ehm.” He coughed. John lifted his hand and quickly returned it to his side. “The cloak, right. No touchy.”

The two stood there without a word, waiting for the girl to finish her military campaign uniform shopping, when suddenly the air grew icy. John rubbed his arms and watched as his breathe appeared before him. “Is Hillary around? Cause it suddenly got really cold.”

Suddenly three cloaked figures appeared before them. Rover fell down into a deep bow. “Elders.” He said reverently. John looked at in quiet contemplation. “Hey, why are the members of the McLaughlin and Halliburton groups here? There isn’t any oil in Queens. At least I don’t think so.”

“Bow you idiot!” Rover said, grabbing John by the collar and pulling him down.

One of the Elders stepped forward and began to speak. “The girl, she is the one,” Pat Buchanan said.

Rover looked up and gasped “No! Impossible!”

“Yeah,” John added, “She doesn’t know kung fu.”

Rover delivered a small blow to the side of John’s arm. “Ow.” John said quietly. “That was uncalled for.”

“Silence you fool!” Rover hoarsely whispered, “The Elders speak!”

One of the Elders in the back spoke as well. “She is the fabled Republican Harlot, whose arrival on the back of the beast of hell shall ring out the definite doom of all democrats and liberals.”

“There’s a difference?” John inquired, only to be once again shushed by Rover.

“She is The One.” The other Elder spoke. “She is whom we Followers of Punditry have been waiting for.” The Elders began to disappear into a conveniently formed shadow. “Remember,” the first Elder spoke. “She is the one. Secure her for our purposes so that we might finally see the days of glorious punditry come to pass.” The Elders were gone.

Rover stood up as well as John who was rubbing his back. “I don’t see how you can keep a position like that while talking to them. It’s friggin painful. Your meetings can’t possibly last more than five minutes. I can’t see how you can do it…”

“I can’t believe it.” Rove said with evil delight. “The time has come! The Republican party shall finally truly be the majority of not only the Senate or congress, but the entire world!”

“Don’t get too excited,” John muttered, “It wouldn’t be very appropriate.”

Rover then pointed to the distance. “There she is! The One! She approaches.” John rolled his eyes. “You sound like a bad line from a biblical epic.”

Raquel came back riding on Chomps back. Although Raquel seemed to be having fun, Chomps seemed to be angry. Not because of Raquel’s riding, but at the fact that he had demolished everything that had begged for destruction on his way over to the store, and was now left with nothing to take out his anger on.

Rove smiled evilly. “Just as the Elders have predicted.”

John sighed. “Why am I not surprised?”

Raquel got off of Chomps and patted him on the head. “Good boy.” She smiled. Although Raquel seemed to be one of the people that made Chomps less angry, her smiling seemed to be mocking him.

He bared his teeth and was about to attack when he saw a lime green Honda hybrid drive by with a bumper sticker that read “Bush: The Anti-American.” Chomps’ anger was quickly and most violently redirected at the car, and it’s strange marking that made him even more enraged. He galloped after it, barking angrily and snapping his opened maw at the bumper.

“Cute little puppy.” Raquel smiled.

She merrily sauntered over to John with a sly little smile. “What’d ya think?”

John looked over Raquel’s outfit. She has traded in her jeans, Nuke the Moon tee shirt, and black Converse for something a little more…appropriate wasn’t the word. She was dressed in fishnets, combat boots and an old Desert Storm uniform with the pants cut into frayed capries.

“You just couldn’t wear a regular uniform could you?” John grumbled. He did a double take. “Is that belt made out of bullets?”

“Well I to have extra cartridges don’t I?” She asked looking down at the belt.

“That’s not how you carry them!” he chastised irately.

As John went on his tirade of gun safety and edicit, Raquel looked around confused. “Where’d Rover go?” She asked.

John stopped and looked around. “Don’t know. We might have disturbed him beyond repair. After you left he kept on ranting about how you were some prophesied Republican Harlot. Elders came out and everything.”

“I thought I saw Dick’s minions wondering about.”
*

Bush sat in the War Room twiddling his thumbs. He looked around at everyone, who seemed to have a much larger span on patience for waiting then he did.

“Why the hell are we here anyway?” Bush asked confused.

“Rover asked us to meet us here. Something about a prophesied whore coming about to save us.” Cheney muttered.

Bush’s eyes grew wide. “A whore? In my White House? What do you people think this is, the Clinton Administration?” He slammed his hands on the table. “I’m not going to stand for this!”

Condi rolled her eyes. “She’s not a threat to us.” She groaned.

“You bet she won’t when I kick her out straight on her hind end!” Bush said determined. Rumsfeld walked into the room. “Rummy!” Bush exclaimed, “Where’s Chomps!? Some friend of that Monica girl is roaming around our White House!”

Cheney sighed and cupped his hands over his face. “It’s times like these I wish I would have supported you in that coup of yours Condi.”

“I told you to,” Condi said under her breathe. “But you just wouldn’t listen.”

“He’s out helping some kid and his lady friend rip through Howard Dean and a few other random liberal hippies.” Rummy said sitting down next to Condi. “And did I hear something about a violent uprising?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Rice said placidly, hiding a folder marked Plans for a Violent Overthrow of My Boss’s Administration under the table.

Karl Rove finally appeared from the shadows. He announced, “Rejoice! For soon we shall forever be the majority leaders!”

“Great!” Bush exclaimed. “And how are we going to do that?”

“The Republican Harlot.” Rove said with conservative glee.

“I thought I said I don’t want none of those floozies wondering around here with I was in power.” Bushed groaned. “What do I look like to you, a Kennedy?”

“Not at all sir.” Rover continued. “Yet this is not what it sounds like. The Republican Harlot shall be a vital tool in the downfall of those who stand in our way: the fat whale that is Moore and his liberal Hollywood minions! We merely must set her and her companion up with the proper tools.”

Bush mulled over this. “You sure she not a floozy?” Bush asked with concern.

“Flirtatious, but not a floozy Mr. President.” Rove said as he cleared his throat. “Her title is more like that of the Whore of Babylon. Ceremonial at best.”

“I say we go for it.” Cheney said. “I’m sick and tired of hearing those liberal idiots rag on about my business at Halliburton and my daughter being gay. You can only fight off so may assault charges without it looking like a regular thing.”

“Then it’s settled!” Bush exclaimed. “We support these guys on their campaign to eliminate those annoying liberals out there in Hollywood. Rumsy, you’re in charge of overseeing their activities since you’re in charge of the military and stuff.”

Rumsfeld grumbled. “I’ll give them a couple of cell phones and Chomps. That should be enough. Chomps’ been needing to do some heavy exercise. Figure a long hard campaign of ripping through liberal scum should be the trick.”

“Umm, I was figuring we’d give them some guns and stuff. You know…so they can actually kill something when they get over there?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll supply them with weapons and ammunition. Christ, always have to make things more complicated then they have to be.”
*

Scott McClellan stood in front of the White House press core, which seemed to be having a field day.

“Scott!” A report exclaimed, “Is it true that President Bush has sent out an adolescent and a PhD student to kill all the liberals in Hollywood, with their main target being Michael Moore?”

“Yes.” Scott announced to the astonishment of the press core. “We are soon going to release a limited edition playing card set similar to that of the ‘Iraqi’s Most Wanted’ series to commemorate our invasion and their eventual slaughter. Although we do not expect it to reach that series’ popularity, we are sure New York City street merchants will exploit the idea and sell them at over marked prices all the same.”

“But Scott!” another reporter exclaimed, “Isn’t the White House concerned about how this is going to look?”

“Not really,” he answered. “Considering all the people who would have protested against it are going to be slaughtered anyway. Any other questions?”

The core sat quietly, in pure amazement at McClellan’s behavior. “Wow.” Muttered one of the shocked reporters. “They really must be sure on this one to be so blatant about it.”

“Bet your sweet ass we are.” Scott gloated. “All you liberal jerks sitting out there in the press core can kiss your behinds so long!”


TO BE CONTINUED

Ode to Frank J.

IN OUR WORLD: We’re Off To Kill The Liberals!
A John/Raquel Joint

Chapter One: The Republican Harlot
Raquel and John sit in John’s house in Queens one lazy afternoon. John, due to his strenuous college schedule is asleep as usual on the couch. After many futile attempts at waking him, Raquel has give up and is now flipping through the channels.

Zachary, I think I’m pregnant with your evil twin’s brother-in-law’s nephew’s child…Raquel quickly flipped the channel. “Stupid day-time drama.”

Baby’s momma’s who date transgender lesbians only to find out that it’s really they're baby’s daddy, next on Springer…Groans angrily. “Seen it.”

For just five cents a day, you can help Chen Ping- “Can it.” She grumbled as she hit the button.

After a few hundred clicks of the remote, she stops. There is something on T.V. that although she sees the pictures clearly, she can’t understand the language.

Blahblahblah…Bush is a terrible man…blahblahblah…He’s incompetent and foolish, yet he somehow is an evil oil greedy mastermind…blahblahblah… and our troops hate us… blahblahblah…

John somehow rises from his deep slumber. “Would you turn that Michael Moore crap off? It burns my ears.”

“Oh so that’s what it is. No wonder I can’t understand the language.” She said as-a-matter-of-factly. “It’s the post-9/11 dialect of Liberalese.”

Raquel quickly flips the channel to some tolerable nonsense. Quickly growing bored, she looks over and John and stares. “Wish he were up…I wanna play.” She smiles evilly, but her thoughts are interrupted by a loud crash behind her.

Howard Dean stands menacingly with horrific Hulk-like girth. “YEARGH!! KILL REPUBLICANS!!!”

“What the…” Dean comes charging at Raquel, raging and screaming. “Ah crap.”

Raquel gets scooped up. Dean flays her around like some poor imitation of King Kong and his stupid blonde. He screams, “YEARGH!! KILL EVIL REPUBLICAN GIRL!!”

“Oh do shut up.” Miraculously, Raquel pulls out an M16 and fires the entire magazine into Dean’s temple. This only succeeds decorating the floor with pretty, shiny bullet casing. Then she remembered. “Ah crap…that’s right…bullets don’t work.”

Dean continues to rage. “THE WAR IS FILLED WITH HORRIBLE LIES!!”

Raquel looks around and suddenly sees John wide awake and watching. “You care to do something about this?!”

John shrugs. “Eh, okay.” Takes out cell phone and presses a number. “Yes, hi. This is John Konescni. I know this is weird but can we borrow Chomps, The World’s Angriest Dog?...Yes, I know it’s not my place to request access to weapons of mass destruction but…”
“John?”
John covers receiver. “Yes?”
“Just wanted you to know…I NEED A LITTLE HELP HERE!!”
“Oh…”

Dean has stormed out of the house, waving Raquel around like a rag doll and continuing his loud, insane rants. “YEARGH!! NO MORE BLOOD FOR OIL!! THE WAR IS A LIE!! THE PRESIDENT LIES!! REPUBLICANS ARE THE ENEMY!!!”
*

“Mr. Rumsfeld, sir?”

“What is it? I’ll kill you! I’m on the phone right now!”

“But sir, it’s Howard Dean. He seems to have taken a young Republican by the name of Raquel Roman hostage and is raging through Queens, of all places, as we speak.”

Rumsfeld paused and read a file his trembling aid handed him. “So this guy on the phone?”

“He's who she was with at the time of the attack sir.”

Rumsfeld hung up and looked down at Chomps, who was sitting at his feet, just rousing from the world’s angriest mid-afternoon nap. “Chomps, I need you to do something for me.”

Chomps growled the world’s angriest growl.

“I need you to go to Queens, of all places, and take care of Howard Dean for me. You remember Howard Dean right?”

Chomps snarled, and angrily ripped Rumsfeld’s desk into tiny splinters.

He smirked evilly. “I’m glad you remember boy. Well, he’s crossed the line this time. He’s taken a civilian hostage and is rampaging around like he owns the place. I need you to show him different.”

Chomps barked and snapped angrily, running out of the office.

Rumsfeld called after him. “And one more thing.”

Chomps growled angrily at his master for interrupting his rampaging journey to maul Howard Dean.

“Try not to bite the kids too hard. They’re on our side, and just as angry as me. And if you growl at me like that one more time I’ll strangle you!

Chomps barked in angry agreement and ran off to maul Howard Dean.
*

John is idly standing by, watching Dean rip up things with one hand while shaking Raquel in the other. Raquel seems to have gotten bored herself, and is just as idly watching as Dean tears up a small SUV. John then sees a black spec quickly racing toward him.

“Hmm, looks like a dog…an angry dog. If that dog gets any angrier looking…Yup it’s Chomps.”

Chomps comes galloping toward John and stops, angrily snarling at John, ready to pull him apart if he doesn’t point him to Dean in the next few seconds.

John smiles. “Hey Raquel, Chomps is finally here.”

“Oh good.” She replies. “Better point Dean out before he mauls you.”

“See the loud man? He’s worse than a hippie. He’s their leader... be careful about chewing on him, you might get high.”

Chomps was suddenly filled with rage and charged Dean, who tried to fend off Chomps.

“REPUBLICAN DOG EVIL!!! KILL REPUBLICAN DOG!!”

Dean tosses Raquel off to the side near John, who looks at her with a slight smile. “You’re welcome.”

Her eyes glare at him angrily. Very angrily. “My hero.” She stands up and dusts herself off. “So that’s Chomps, The World’s Angriest Dog, huh?

“Yup, that’s him alright.”

They both watch Howard Dean as he shouts angrily “YEARGH!!! REPUBLICAN DOG FILLED WITH- GARALKJBF!!!”

“I think Chomps got a hold of his vocal chords.” Raquel said, cocking her head to the side trying to make sense out of the mass carnage that lay in front of her.

John stood there in quiet wonder. “Hmm. If he's bullet proof, you would think he was teeth proof too, wouldn’t you?”

“To normal teeth, yes.” Raquel pointed out, “But Chomps’ teeth are made out of special angry calcium that can rip through any nasty little democratic bastard.”

“Heh, you don’t say?”

A mangled lump of humanity that use to be Howard Dean comes crawling on two...make that one and a half arms. John and Raquel look down unpityingly on him as he tries to continue his ranting through the third of his vocal chords that are left.

“Ye....argh....kill...help me....evil dog....bad for democratic....party…argh…”

John smiles. “I think he’s in pain. What do you think?”

“Hmmm.” Raquel stared for a long moment. “Yeah, I think he just might be in a bit of pain.”

“Heh.” They watch as Chomps continues his mauling, which is beginning to slow a bit. “Where’s Karl Rove when you need him? Chomps seems to be getting a wee bit tired. That lightning trick he does would be helpful.”

Suddenly, out of the darkness of a nearby alley, the cloaked figure of Karl Rove appears. The sky begins to stir with gray clouds as thunder roars through the skies and lightning comes out of Rover’s fingers to strike the twitching Dean still.

“He’s so mysterious and dreamy!! In an evil, dark manner, but absolutely heavenly none the less! Oh Karl Rove, my only love!”

John stares at the love crazy woman at his side. “Um, are we looking at the same person?”

Raquel stares bewildered at the girl who has suddenly appeared on the other side of John. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

The other girl blinks, just as bewildered. “What do you mean who am I? I’m Rakel! Question is, who are you?”

Raquel becomes filled with a wrath that rivals that of Donald Rumsfeld. “OH! That is a vile and odious lie! I’m Raquel, and not you!”The evil blonde twin smiled broadly. “Oh, no one’s arguing that. See, you’re Raquel with a ‘qu’. I’m Rakel with a ‘k’.”

Rakel turns her attention back to Rover, who is still somewhere in the shadows. “Oh Rooooover? Come out here baby!”

John shudders with disgust. Looking off to the side, he sees Raquel with crowbar in hand, holding it like a baseball bat. “Uh boy.” He takes a large step to the side, out of blood spatter range.

Rakel continues to go stir crazy over every breathing man in the general area. “Oh he looks so adorable when he lurks in the shadows. Come to think of it, John, you don’t look that bad either. Come to think of it, you look down right adorable.”

Raquel’s rage boils over. “THAT’S IT!”

Taking the crowbar in hand, she swings at Rakel’s head as if it were a giant tee-ball stand. With a sickening wet crack, the evil twin hits the floor. “Bull’s-eye!” Now, merrily humming to herself, she grabs the body by the feet and drags it off to the side. Clapping her hands clean, she returns to John’s side.

“Now, where were we?” She said with a smile.

John pointed to the cloaked figure in the darkness of the alley. “Rover.”

“Ah yes.” Raquel calmly walks over to Karl Rove and tugs on his robe.

Rover’s face slowly emerges out of the dark recesses of his hood. “What is this? A mere mortal touching my cloak?” The sky grew dark and menacing around them. “Do you know who I am?”

Raquel nodded. “Yes Mr. Rove sir- OOF!” A sharp blow was dealt to the back of her head, causing her to black out. She woke up a few seconds later, off to the side somewhere.

“Damn it Rover don’t be so sensitive about the cloak! It’s just a Party City rental and you know it! There was no need to strike me with one of your stupid lightning blots!”

John cleared his throat, calling for Raquel’s attention. She looked over at him as he pointed out, “No, actually that was Rakel, you evil twin, who woke up and jumped you from behind.”

“Damn bitch is starting to remind me of Howard Dean.” She mumbled.

“Hey, at least you're alive,” John shrugged, “I think she was aiming to kill.”

The evil twin Rakel appears standing on top of an overturned dumpster. “BWUAHAHAHA! Yes, it is I, the evil Rakel that has attacked you! And now that you have been disposed of…”

Rakel jumps out of the dumpster and merrily trots over to John, wrapping her arm through his. “Mine.”

“Hey!” Raquel begins to pout. “He doesn’t belong to you.”

John peers down at is arm at the demi-evil, hopelessly clueless blonde that was Raquel’s evil twin. “Only Raquel touches me like that.” With this, he gently takes her hand, twists it, snaps wrist, and keeps twisting it while raising it over his head. “Capisce?”

Raquel smiled. “Never mess with a Republican. ‘Specially if he’s an Irish Catholic.”

The evil Rakel quietly nods her head. John smiled calmly. “Good.” He flips her over his shoulder and onto the floor. Quietly walking over to Raquel, he helps her up on her feet. “Let’s go.”

Raquel dusts herself off and runs toward Rakel’s unconscious form. “Hold on a moment.”

Bending over her body, Raquel fusses over the body for a few quick moments. When she steps away, Rakel is wearing a tie dye tee shirt, head band, and peace medallion.

John smiles. “Oooh.”

Rakel slowly rouses from her unconscious state and sits up. “Ugh, my aching head. Hey, nice threads. Very vintage chic.” She looks up into the distance to see something running toward her.

“What the…Hey! That looks like a cute dog coming toward me. But why does he look so angry? So very angry. Maybe it’s Bush’s mom, Barbra. Hello Mrs.- OH MY GOD THE PAIN!!!”

John gave a small laugh. “And she thought the wrist was bad.”

Raquel stares at the carnage with a look of confusion. “She has a wrist left?”

“I mean from before.”

“Oh! From when she tried to go where no other woman but me has gone before?” She smirked.

John rolled his eyes. “Yes Raquel.” He turned to her and chided. “You know, why do you have to put it like that? It gets tiring.”

“But it’s true!”

As Raquel and John bicker over this personal matter, Karl Rove partially emerges from the shadows. He watches…evilly. “And I thought Rumsfeld was bad. I have never seen two such people ever come close to matching his wrath.” Rover comes forth from the darkness and approaches the two, who are still bickering.

“All I ask is that you tone it down a bit.” John said, rubbing his weary brow. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Fine.” Raquel sighed. “But I’m still- did it get ominous feeling all of the sudden or is it just me?”

They both turn to see Rover standing next to them with a big, creepy smile on her face. Raquel takes a big step toward John and grabs his hand. “I’m scared.”

To her surprise, John grabs hold of her arm as well. “I think I’m a bit worried myself.” He whispered into her ear.

“How would you two like to serve your country?” Rover propositions. “We need violent youth like you to go out and protect our great land from evil hippie influences and liberal psychopaths.” Rover then smiles evilly and rubs his hands together. “For the elders have seen this day coming, and it is written in the Book of Punditry.”

A dark cloud appears and the Book of Punditry descends from its dark billows. Rover waves his hand over the Book, and an ominously conservative wind blows it open. He begins to read:

"And the day shall come when the evil clone of she who defeated the beast of the DNC shall be defeated by the man that looks like the Envoy of the Elders. These two, and no one else, shall be the ones to bring glory to the RNC.”

Rover glares up and looks John over. He scoffed. “I guess you can pass for a younger version of myself.” He passes his hand over the book and it went back the way it came.

Raquel looked John over in a less judgmental way and smiled. “I guess you do sorta look like him…But don’t you think it a bit odd how that prophesy described the whole thing to a tee?”

“Well the book is a large gathering of prophesies and the such. So I guess it has to be accurate.” With a huge grin he pulled out a quill. “Even if I hadn’t just scribbled it in the margins.”

Raquel’s jaw went slack and hung open. “How did you?” She shook her head “I don’t even want to know.”

For some reason, Rover heard none of this and continued with his spooky prophesizing. “So what do you say? Will you join us and fulfill your mission as written rather sloppily in, oddly enough, the margins of the Book of Punditry.”

John looked at Raquel. “Well, what do you think? Sounds like a great opportunity to get to beat up a bunch of people who really deserve it, and you know, as much as they want to, Chomps and Rummy can’t get to them all.”

She looked at Rover, and in being severely creeped out by the small smile on his face looked back at John. She looked at the ground and remained quiet a moment.

“Well?” John asked.

“Don’t rush me!” Raquel snapped, afterward returning to her thoughtful staring position.

John just stood and stared. More time when by then he would have expected, and he got a bit worried. “I think she ruptured something in her brain.” He mumbled as he bent down to check her pupils.

Before he could check out anything, she snapped up to attention and saluted Rove.

“I guess not.” He mumbled, as he copied her motions.

Rover smiled eagerly. “Excellent. Welcome into service for the United States government.”

Raquel smiled happily and pushed out her chest. “It’ll be an honor to service my fellow officers.”

Everything became dead quiet, and a single cricket chirped in the background, unaware of what was just said. John and Rover both stared at Raquel. Her not knowing what was just said (plus the more than eager smile on her face) made the moment even more awkward and uncomfortable.

Raquel’s eyes suddenly grew wide with realization of what she had just said. “Erm…I meant to say serve with my fellow officers.”

“Sure you did Raquel.” John said, gently taking her saluting arm and setting it back down at her side. “Lets not piss off the man with the lightning fingers, okay?” Raquel looked over at Rover with a dirty little smirk on her face. “I wonder what else he can do with those lightning fingers of his.”

Rover coughed slightly as if he was drinking a liquid that went down the wrong pipe. “Excuse me?” he questioned, not believing what he had heard.

John sighed. “Raquel…” He hid his brow in his hand. “I can’t believe you. I might as well have let that stupid blonde version of you live…Let her jump Rove…”

“You know how to do anything else with those lightning fingers of yours?” She repeated.

John turned back to Raquel, assuming his position of tamer. “You want to try that sort of thing? Leave Rover out of it and just attach a tazer to your-"

Before John could finish his sentence, Raquel leans over to Rover, batting her eyelashes. “So Mr. Rove, tell me...am I going to be serving directly under you? Hmm?”

Rover, not quite able to figure out what to do in the very peculiar situation he’s in, did what he does best. Dark clouds began to yet again surround them. “ARE YOU MOCKING ME?” His voice boomed with conservative might. “HOW DARE YOU MOCK ME! NOW YOU SHALL FACE THE FULL FOR OF MY PUNDITRIAN MIGHT!!” As Karly boomed, lightning struck and winds howled. The two Chosen Republicans just stood and looked around at the tempest like fury that surrounded him.

“Look, a cow!” Raquel pointed at a cow flying past them.

“Moo.”

John shrugged. “And SarahK thinks she looks like one of those? What IS that woman thinking? Oh well…”

Before the storm reached its pinnacle, John cleared his throat. This simple action somehow got Rove’s attention for a brief moment. “Um sir, if I can have a moment of your wrathful, furious time?”

“Yes?” Rover bellowed impatiently. “I believe she’s hitting on you.” John said simply. The storm very suddenly stopped. Rover just stared at John. “Say what?”

“She’s hitting on you.” He repeated calmly.

“She’s hitting one me?” He questioned, looking over at her. “You sure she’s not mocking me?”

“Hitting on you, yes. Mocking you, never.”

For once, Karl Rove failed to come up with an answer or even a threat or foretold prophesy. He just stared at the two. His conservative nerves shot beyond immediate repair. His eye began to twitch. “Too…provocative…Need…conservative…behavior.”

Raquel stares at Rover’s twitching eye, cocking up and eyebrow. She looks over at John, who just stands there with a small, unexplained smile on his face. She looked back at Rove and his unchanging reaction. She broke the awkward silence. “Yeah…so…Why don’t I let you to boys talk while I go change for duty?” She looked around the street and smiled. “Awesome. A Hot Topic and a military surplus story located right next to each other. I’ll be right back.”

The two men stood and watched her as she trotted off merrily to put her service uniform together; Chomps following at her heels, taking time to release his anger on items that begged for destruction on the way over.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

....yeah third one tonight i know...

I'm having blog envy. Everyone else's blog is so much nicer than my own. damn my computer programming retardation. i want a nice blog too. Can't a girl get a nice looking blog too?

while i'm yammering on and on at this insane hour...hey the clock's off. it's 2 hours behind...oh this is gonna be a pain, i can foresee it already. in any case...

what shall i yammer on about now...how bout john? my little irish wonder.

sweet old johnny boy. if i had a nickel for everytime i felt like killing for him...and killing him...i would have $128.65 exactly. small wonder that i feel for him so strongly. it's really very odd. especially since he's most likely the closet i will come to my opposite. this DOES NOT mean he is a democrat or a liberal. we're not talking that opposite. john kills these people, not partake in their stupidness.

we're not going to get emotional here. i love him is as emotional as it's going to get. i love him and i'm willing to kill any other girl around him who even thinks about glancing at him. but i'm not too violent a person. i'm actually down right benevolent. i'd merely bludgeon them into a coma, not kill them. don't look at me like that, i at least want some circumstantial evidence before i go around strangling people like Donald Rumsfeld.

yes well that's enough of that, i started this post at 2:44 am and now it's 3:05 am, all b/c i had to find out how to create a hyper link...stupid web page design.

PS: i cant believe i didnt say this before!

Yes, sorry for not saying it with the rest of the introduction, but i am Catholic. born and partially raised. i went to catholic school. which, as other catholic school attendents can tell you, is part of th reason i am the way i am. staying in there long enough can do things to you. i myself have a perminent hatred for nuns. nothing against people who are nuns, but most of the ones i have met we not very good representatives for their like...

VIVA LA BENNY! may you travel on swift pope-mobile wheels for as long as you reign! And RIP JPII *spills a bit of communion wine on the floor* that's for my homie in the great beyond. mad love for my deceased homie. we aint ever gonna have another pope as pimp as you, God bless and God rest.

PS-
JP2's pimp qualifications:
1) got a cap popped in his holy ass and STILL made it alive, and forgave his attacker! (take that!)
2)he had those fly wheels he was driving around in all the time.(it was even offically called the Pope-Mobile. how dope is that?)
3)he had a massive posse, his cardinal crew was in tow at all times
4)had his own jet, privatized and customized EVERYTHING
5)he was a globe trotter. traveled all over the world, and he broke bread. just like Jay-Z says. (u dont know who jay z is do a fucking google search, your on the INTERNET already...)
6) lets not forget his cane and fly bling-bling

All of these things put together equal a pope who was big pimpin...word.

Pope Party

The pope's after party was absolutely fabulous. Music, dancing, those little pigs in a blanket. Well, they technically weren't pigs in a blanket. If they were the Jews wouldn't have been able to partake in the meaty/ buttery flaky goodness, and that wouldn't have been fair. To make things even better, Monsieur President Frenchie wasn't there. Which is a good thing, because i would have done something very uncatholic to him if he was there.

Before the party began I had to attend Benny's inauguration Mass. I had to sit next to some stuffy old princess who kept on fanning herself. And when i saw Jeb and tried to wave him down, she started protesting about how all Americans were alike. I told her to shut up or we would bomb her no name country to dust just like we did Iraqi. I then hit her with my program and made my way to Jebbie.

apparently, Georgie didn't want to have to sit still through another mass, and excerised his power as an older brother, and president, to send Jeb over instead of himself. "Besides," Jeb had told me during the consecration of the host, "Those wafer things are awesome. George's fault for missing out on them. He asked if i could get a doggie bag, but i don't think the Papacy would be with the idea of sticking the 'Body of Christ' in a brown paper bag for the president to enjoy."

I nodded in agreement and told him that we should be quiet since the Greek Othodox leaders were giving us dirty looks, and those guys creep me out to begin with, so lets not give them any reason to look our way. After the mass and the party, i said farewell to Jeb. It wont be too long until i see him again, since i'm going to Disney Tuesday night. A whole week at Disney, what joy it shall bring to my little heart!

A Note of Introduction

Yes, well, I suppose I must explain this lunacy before I begin. It's only fair, I would imagine...

A was born, a poor black child...*looks down at script, turns a few pages*

How did the script for "The Jerk" get in here? Is this some one's idea of a joke! I swear, Steve, was that you! Yeah, I see you back there grinning like Ted Kennedy at happy hour! Just you wait and see, you'll get your's!

Eh-hem...

I am the white washed liberal-conservative daughter of two first generation Independent Puerto Rican Americans, or as we so lovingly put it, New-yer Ricans. By the way, I mean independent in both the political and economic way, with is a half blessing.

My full self given title is as follows: an adolescent, bisexual, nyphmomaniacal, infatuous, clingy, depressive, vengeful, violent, brilliant liberal-conservative, romantic, star gazing daydreamer with a hint of sociopathic and psychotic tendencies and self-confidence fluxes just for flavor.

*gasps for breathe* Yes I am the very model of a messed up individual, and all the psycho-therapy in the world cant change that, nor do I want it to. I'm different damnit, and I refuse to take a pill to change that.

Out of what I have said so far, one thing might be very confusing to some of you: that I am a liberal-conservative. This means that, according to most sources (or at least the ones I care about) I am for the most part conservative. BUT I cant just go around saying I'm plain old conservative. That implies, to the more ignorant of people, that I am against gay marriage and all that good stuff. So, as I look at my conservative brethren, I notice one thing: I'm a little...*does a double take* actually, make that a lot looser than those in my group. I am a bit more free. another word for free, sadly, is liberal. So therefore, I am a liberal-conservative. Done deal. I call rights to the title. I made it up, so there.

Well, I guess this is done. Another entry will be made in a few minutes with a little ditty I have been working on. Until then...Take care.

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