It’s Wednesday. Yep, sure is.

After a nice, relaxing three workdays at my alternate work site, it’s back to the other place for three days. That means I have to fight with the goddamn parking garage gate. They have these fancy schmancy RFID chips that get stuck to your windshield that are supposed to open the gate for you. Kind of like the EZ Pass, except EZ Pass is an active chip (that is, it has its own power supply), whereas these goddamn things are passive. And, frankly, the little bastard on my windshield always worked erratically, and lately hasn’t freakin’ worked much at all. Then they have the nerve to send me a nasty e-mail saying there’s no “free parking.” Yeah, well, no shit. We (and when I say “we,” I mean Granny) pay over $80 for the privilege of parking there (the alternative would be to drive as far away from work as where we live – but in the opposite direction), and take a shuttle bus in to work. Fuck that. What I really need is to get my work location permanently changed to the “good” place. Either that, or win the lottery tonight.

Holy shit! The New York State Fair starts on Thursday. Here in these parts, that signals the end of summer, and it always comes as a bit of a shock. The paid concert lineup looks pretty lame, but there are some pretty interesting free shows, including War, Poco and Pure Prairie League, Dickie Betts with the Outlaws, America – even Frankie Avalon. But, I only go to the Fair every decade or so (just to make sure it’s the same crap it always was), and I think I was there less than ten years ago, so I guess I won’t be going.

Personally, I’m pretty happy to see summer go. I hate the heat (and the bugs), and fall is a great time of year around here. The colors are beautiful, and the temperatures are great for sleeping. The only problem with fall is that winter is never far behind. Not that I mind the cold and snow so much, but it gets dark so goddamn early. Once I hit the lottery, that won’t matter so much, but for now, the thought of leaving the house in the dark, and not getting back until it’s dark out, is kind of depressing. So, I reckon I’d better just not think about it.

This week on Press the Meat, it’s a visit from Karl “Pop ‘n Fresh” Rove, on to talk about what it’s like being an asshole, and how it feels to have knocked up Jenna Bush. Then there’s a roundtable with LA Times Bush shill, Ron Brownstain Brownstein, WSJ douchebag, John “aint got” Harwood, Matt Cooper, and just plain fucking crazy Kate O’Beirne. Yes, another “fair and balanced” offering from the potatoheaded one.

Meanwhile, over on CBS’s Faze the Nation, it’s…Karl Fucking Rove again. Woo-hoo. He won’t answer a subpoena, but I guess he’s happy to go on the teevee.

Over at Fux News Sunday, weaselface Wallace hosts, well, now this is just getting embarrassing. Yep, you guessed it, another appearance from MC Rove. Don’t worry, though, as Wallace promises to ask the “tough questions.” Yep. Then it’s a rather disgusting panel discussion with Freaky Fred Barnes and everybody’s favorite Bush cheerleader, Bill Kristol, both of that paragon of journalistic virtue, the Weekly Standard, Bush apologist Nina “too bad she’s not Sheena” Easton of Fortune Magazine (she once said that Bush didn’t do a fucking thing help out New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina because he didn’t want to look like “an ambulance chaser, as he saw Bill Clinton being”), and NPR prostitute, Juan Williams.

Over on the Goebbels network, George Snufalufagus hosts a 90 minute debate with the twelve democrats running president. Could be good, if they let Dennis Kucinich get a word in.

Wolf Blitzer’s Late Emission includes Bob Casey of PA, Kit Bond, of Missouri (isn’t Kit a girl’s name?), Iraqi Parliament member, Mahmoud Othman (apparently vacationing here in the US, where it’s safe), a couple of lackeys from the Clinton and Edwards campaigns, and the usual assortment of CNN hacks, shills, twits, and bottle blondes.

Later, on 60 Minutes, tonight’s reruns include Steve Kroft explaining how, $24 billion dollars later, the U.S. Coast Guard (and the nation is less secure) is in worse shape now than when the “Deepwater” refurbishment plan began. Scott Pelley goes to Antarctica to watch the glacier melt, and Anderson Cooper forces us to suffer through a story on all-around asshole, Simon Cowell (I hope Anderson calls him a bitch).

Well, I don’t see anything there that should get in the way of me doing my laundry. Whatever you do today, have fun.

So, the way I hear it, Karl Rove accidentally knocked up Jenna (they were both hammered, and he mistook her for Jeff Gannuckert). That’s why Rove has been dismissed from the White House (not that dubya gives a crap, but apparently Laura is off her lithium, and has developed an attitude). So, they found some half-transformed transsexual Rove assistant’s kid (he’s taking the hormones, but hasn’t had the surgery yet) to play the beard, and they’ll be married off with much to-do. Once everybody forgets about them (which shouldn’t take too long), the Bushies will pay for his surgery, while faking a tragic car accident (Jenna will be seen commiserating with his “twin sister” at the funeral – that is, doing Jello shots, and falling all over each other in the mud). As for the baby, if it survives being pickled in the womb, it’ll be used for spare parts for Cheney.

Have a nice Saturday.

It’s Friday, and I have to be up and out early this morning, so that I can drive all over hell. It’ll be nice to get this week over with, though Siggy and I are gonna miss having the house to ourselves. Oh well, off to the salt mines.

It’s not Friday, ya bastids. But, it aint Monday, at least. And damned if we haven’t just about put August halfway behind us. It’ll be winter before you know it.

While Granny is away, it’s up to me to deal with the cat box, and, in particular, the one cat who does nothing but have explosive diarrhea all over the place. And, I do mean all over the place. Far be it for me to complain, but it’s pretty disgusting, I must say (and I’m not easily disgusted). Otherwise, the bachelor life aint so bad. The dog and I get to sequester ourselves in my room cat free, and with the air conditioner blasting away. It’s just too bad I have to leave it (the room, that is) once in a while, to grab a cold one. Not that I don’t have a mini fridge in my bedroom, of course, but it doesn’t have a freezer. And drinking beer out of a non-frosted mug is just, so, uncivilized.

If I don’t have a mug fresh from the freezer, the terrorists win.

Tough day in Iraq yesterday. Well, OK, they’re all pretty tough days in Iraq. But, freedom isn’t free you know. Imagine how bad things would be if this surge wasn’t going so well. Then those Iraqis would really be fucked.

It just wont’ be the same without Turdblossom.

So, Tommy Thompson had the good sense to drop out of the race for the Republican nomination. Well, you gotta give him credit for having more brains than, oh I don’t know, John McCain. All of these Republicans are losers, anyway. I mean, if we wind up with President Hillary Clinton, you’ll have nobody to blame but the godamn republicans to blame for it.

But anyway, big day today. Not day, really, but night, as we get the season premiere of Weeds, and series premiere of Californication on Showtime. Yes, that’s how pathetic things are for me – teevee shows now constitute a “big day” for me. But, what the hell, it softens the blow of having to go back to work this morning. A little. And now Rove is on his way out (no doubt to make lots of money being an evil little bastard in the private sector somewhere in Texas. Poor Karl.