Ah, the weekend is finally here, and it’s a holiday weekend, so it’s even better than a regular weekend. I don’t think I approve of them making July 4th a Monday holiday but, well, what the hell. If you’re planning on heading out to the park to grill up some veggie burgers and toss the old frisbee® around, must be you don’t live in Minnesota. Guess you better sit home and read a book instead. Or maybe go to Wisconsin (as repugnant as that may be to you – just don’t feed the Supreme Court justices; they look all cute and everything, but they might bite, and some of them are rabid). If you live in NY State’s Southern Tier, you better hit the parks as much as possible this summer, ‘cuz Jeezus only know what will become of them once Governor Snotball clears the way for hydrofracking the Marcellus Shale. There may soon be a desolate void stretching from just to the south of Syracuse down to Harrisburg, PA.

I know Michele Bachmann is nuts and all that, but I happened to see her husband (I think his name is Randy) yesterday, and well, golly. Seems like she could do better than that. Aren’t there plenty of Krazy Kristian fishes in the sea (and, if not, couldn’t she have had her own personal Jesus turn some loves of bread into a good lookin’ dude)?

Of course, you probably all (or should I say, “both”) saw the reason Randy made the news yesterday, and that was because he’s a Kristian “Kounselor” who de-gays people. I think we all know what that means. :nod:

Anyhow, Mr. Crazy Bachmann says that “the gays” need to be disciplined and whatnot so that they won’t turn down the sinful path. Clearly, Herr Bachmann must consider the sinful path a delightful path that takes a great deal of holiness (and discipline – nasty, nasty discipline, which I’m certain Michele is more than happy to mete out with whips, wearing a black leather bustier and spiked dog collar) to avoid.

Now, maybe it’s me, but I don’t think that’s fair. Speaking on behalf of those of us who have never felt a desire to stick anything up the sinful path (not there’s anything wrong with that), it just doesn’t seem fair that God would plant that evil desire into some folks heads and not others. If I didn’t know better, and if I was Mark Halperin, I might conclude that God was being kind of a dick.

So I’m forced to conclude that Mr. Bachmann is yet another closeted, overcompensating dick. Which would explain why he married the Lady Gaga of the Republican Party.

It’s supposed to be hot today, and since my shoulder is pretty much seized up tighter than a, um, something that’s seized up really tight, I don’t think I’ll be doing much of anything constructive. Which is what holiday weekends are for, I guess.

BTW, if anybody knows where my sunglasses are, please let me know. Somebody keeps hiding all my shit around here.