by Smitty (via Theo)
Cowboy Poetry Of The Day
Category: Nevada
Dear Ace: ‘A Choice, Not an Echo’
PORT ST. LUCIE, Fla. — OK, after the last post, I promised I was going to go back to sleep, but somebody in the comments said that Ace of Spades was “bitching and moaning . . . that the tea party cost us DE et al.”
Because I didn’t see the aforesaid bitching and moaning, I can’t address any specific complaint by Ace. Let me say, however, that it is wrong to blame “the Tea Party” for the Senate defeats in Delaware and Nevada and the apparent Murky comeback in Alaska.
Nor, I think, can “the Tea Party” be blamed for the double-wipeout in California. I always felt that Whitman and Fiorina would either both win or both lose. If either of them melted down, the other would go down with her. And it was Whitman who melted down over that illegal maid thing — an unfair liberal media hit, but it took her off-message during a crucial phase of the campaign and she never recovered her balance.
Note to future Republican candidates: Do you own damned laundry and wash your own damned dishes. If you have ever employed a domestic servant named “Maria,” please don’t run for office as a Republican.
Mike Murphy, $90,000 a month. Meg Whitman, 41%.
Attaboy, Mike!
Let me continue with California for a minute: Continue reading Dear Ace: ‘A Choice, Not an Echo’ →
Call It Like You Hear It
by Smitty
The opening phrase of the clip “It doesn’t give them comfort and solace for me to tell them. . .,” arguably, means he is disclaiming the assertion that he saved the world from a depression. Of course, he would enjoy it if you took the clip as a whole to mean he’s the savvier savior.
Credit where due: Senator Harry Reid is a man of low animal cunning. Nevadans, you know what to do.
Harry Reid to Gays: ‘I Really Want Your Votes. But First You Will Blow Me.’
Or words to that effect, as the imperiled Senate Majority Leader — who’s losing ground to Sharron Angle in Nevada — was one of three Democrats to vote against repealing the military’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy:
All Senate Republicans and three Democrats voted to block debate on the bill after Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid (D-Nev.) said he would attach several leadership priorities, including an immigration-related provision, to the defense bill. Reid also attempted to limit the amendments offered by the GOP.
Reid was one of the three Democrats — the other two were Arkansas Sens. Blanche Lincoln and Mark Pryor — who voted to block debate. Reid’s vote allows him to bring up the bill at a later time.
Isn’t that special? It would have taken 60 votes to pass the repeal, and Harry could only get 59, so he told Blanche Lincoln — who is trailing by 25 points in her own re-election bid — that she could have a free vote to try to appeal to backward hillbilly yokels independent swing voters back home in Arkansas.
And this “allows him to bring up the bill at a later time.”
Feel the love, gay Democrats.
Honestly, wouldn’t you be better off voting Republican? What’s not to like about lower taxes and a foreign policy that’s all about kicking terrorist ass?
Sure, Republicans don’t support your pet issues, but at least they’re honest about it. Whereas, with Democrats, you’re like the slutty cheerleader who puts out to all the guys on the football team: The Democrats always get what they want from you — your votes and money — but they’re never gonna take you to the prom.
Maybe “at a later time,” huh?
‘Coked-Up Stimulus Monkeys’
No, it’s not the name of a punk rock band, it’s what Democrats are doing with your tax money:
Harry Reid’s Plan to Save the Nevada Economy: Coked-up Stimulus Monkeys
In the face of the worst recession since the Great Depression, where has the money from Harry Reid’s stimulus bill gone to help our ailing economy? Cocaine-addled monkeys and a million dollars worth of exotic ants, according to a new report out this morning.
Other examples of how the stimulus has squandered taxpayer dollars include $750,000 towards creating a YouTube-like computerized dance choreography program; $300,000 to study the effects of “integral yoga” upon hot flashes; and $60,000 to study public perception of stimulus spending. . . .
That’s from Harry Reid’s Republican challenger Sharron Angle and — believe it or not — Democrats are actually trying to defend the cocaine-for-monkeys program. But no need to worry about the economy, folks:
You don’t have to be on drugs to think like a Democrat, but it sure helps!
Right Online: ‘Pimp Your Website’
LAS VEGAS — The Right Online schedule this morning shows an 8:30 a.m. seminar called “Pimp Your Website: Taking It to the Next Level.” However, the person teaching that seminar is not the author of “How to Get a Million Hits on Your Blog.”
Today’s seminar on “Blogging 101” is taught by Matt Lewis and the “Twitter 101” seminar is taught by Tabitha Hale and Nansen Malin.
It’s OK. My feelings aren’t hurt. Chopped liver doesn’t have feelings.
And how bad could I feel, anyway, when I’m blogging from a posh suite at the fabulous Venetian Resort Hotel?
Wait, let’s clarify that last sentence:
And how bad could I feel, anyway, when I’m blogging completely naked from a posh suite at the fabulous Venetian Resort Hotel?
“Search engine optimization,” you see, so that if anyone is Googling for “Matt Lewis naked” or “Tabitha Hale naked,” they’ll be directed here.
But I don’t know nothing about pimping no Websites.
UPDATE: OK, having taken my shower and gotten dressed, I’m now no longer completely naked, and I’m about to leave my hotel suite, in search of this conference I’m supposed to be covering. Expect further updates . . . .
Wait: Almost forgot to add: Hit the tip jar. A cup of coffee costs $3 in the hotel lobby and cigarettes are $9 a pack here.
What Are the Odds . . .
. . . that I am, even at this very moment, boarding a Delta Airlines flight en route to Las Vegas? Well, if you have already hit the tip jar, you might know how to bet that proposition.
If you haven’t hit the tip jar yet, now would be a good time to do so. There is never a bad time to hit the tip jar, but Operation Blame Erik Telford is kind of a special occasion. Although this idea for a completely crazy trip is entirely for the purpose of covering the Right Online Conference at the fabulous Venetian Resort Hotel, it is, after all the town they call “Lost Wages.”
Everybody Have Fun at Right Online!
My friend Steve Eggleston of No Runny Eggs blog fame asked me a question on Twitter:
Read the article for yourself: “[T]he nation’s foremost new media experts from across the country” — a list from which my name is omitted. As I explained three weeks ago:
The list of speakers for this year’s conference includes Erick Erickson and Ed Morrissey — both of whom are far more interesting than me, which is why they’re on the list and that bastard Erik Telford didn’t invite me, just like he snubbed me last year.
I might suggest that readers hit the tip jar, but I doubt you would want me to attend a conference where I am so obviously unwelcome.
Nevertheless — for your sake, dear reader — I just checked Travelocity. Even if I booked a flight today, the lowest round-trip fare would be nearly $600, but it takes three days for money to clear through PayPal after somebody hits the tip jar. This means that, by the earliest time I could get the money in my checking account, I’d be paying a premium for a last-minute ticket Thursday. (Right Online begins Friday morning at the fabulous Venetian Resort Hotel.)
So the only way I could possibly afford to get to Vegas by Friday would be to drive more than 2,300 miles one-way, which would take 38 hours non-stop. That’s 4,600 miles round-trip at 20 cents a mile = $920. And I’d have to leave Wednesday night, bringing along my 17-year-old son as relief driver . . .
But that would be insane. Only a complete lunatic like Bob Belvedere would even dare suggest such a desperate last-minute expedition.
It comes down to this: Are there 20 readers in the blogosophere who would be willing to bet $50 that I’m really that crazy?
Or are there 50 people who would wager $20?
Could there possibly be 100 people who would gamble $10 on the long-shot chance that, sometime Friday, I’d roll up in front of the fabulous Venetian Resort Hotel — unshaven, unbathed, wearing the same clothes I had on when I got in the car Wednesday night — toss the keys to the valet, walk into that conference and shout out, “Where’s Erik Telford?”
Maybe 200 people would pay $5 to see the look on Telford’s face?
Probably not. I’ve been on a long streak of bad luck lately. But maybe I’m due for a lucky break.