What a Tool.

Incredible, gentle readers. I have finally come up with the appropriate combination of Friday Cock Pictures and a news item (of sorts) in a single post.

Yes, it's true. The Kendall County Democratic "organization" that the young pisher king is so proud of is full of tools. In fact, Powertools, as it were. Kind of like this one, I think.

By the way, I have no idea if the website where I found this is for real or not. I can't imagine the amount of Astroglide you'd have to have onhand to sooth the nether-regions... Oh, well. Different strokes, I guess (it's just that some are handjobs and some are high-speed reciprocating tools).

So the other day, I opened my email to a delicious item about the last meeting of Democrats, where somewhere around an even dozen people showed up (from what I'm told). What's so delicious is that I found the sender's name on the party's website; someone who has also posted comments here on this blog.

Such intrigue!

In the message, four incredible things came up (among other things less startling):

• The current chairman has halted the party's fundraising until after the election.
• The chairman does not support voter registration before the cut-off date because it will only register "the wrong kinds of voters."
• In the course of a two-hour meeting where the emailer said nothing of note was accomplished, more than 40 minutes was spent dealing with complaints from an old man about anonymous postings on the internet. And nothing... Was. Accomplished.

Jesus Christ on the Saturday morning cartoons!

Sorry, kids. That's about all I can muster on those three gems. After all, WHAT?! is so cliché.

More good stuff:

• The Pisherometer hasn't budged in a couple of months. It's pretty sad when Dallas Ingemunson (no lightweight, he) can raise twice as much money for his kid in a few months than the Pisher King can in a whole fucking year.

• I've been so funked out lately, I didn't even notice that 50MO is about to crash through the 21,000 mark.

Thanks to you, it's working. One day at a time.

I Have Returned.

Once again, I've enjoyed the comments and a number of emails. Thanks to the many fine readers who asked "where the fuck" I was. I do appreciate the hell out of it.

Just returned from LA last night, after which I just drove around all night listening to Jerry Jeff Walker's LA Freeway. Cried my eyes dry. I've been there, off and on for the past three weeks. And I have hair on my arms. There. Now the Laeschians can go bananas again trying to figure out who the fuck I am.

Truthfully, I've made my whereabouts unkown for strictly personal reasons, as a major meltdown has occurred locally which has had me in a funk for some time. And I do have hair on my arms. There, again, is more proof that I am a man (with great tits) named Mark Blackman.

And I tried to keep up with 50MO, but blogging while trying to keep myself on the by-and-by on a fucking four-and-a-half hour flight to LA, while trying to hide from a shiftless God-Damnable psycho and stay somewhat coherent got to be a full-fucking-time job.

I'm just wondering when John Laesch is going to be honest and say who HRC really is. Laesch doesn't have tits, but he certainly is a world-class pussy, having fucked a decent man by "outing" him and then not apologizing publicly for being an oafish dolt. And a pussy who's blown a hundred grand of your money being a jackass every day since last Christmas. Maybe it started before that.

That's right. I'm John Laesch. And I do this to get attention and respect. Two things I desperately crave.

OK. Enough. I should've slept on the flight.

There is some fun in the old mailbag, gentle readers... I'll share after a little nap. Gotta skate out of here again before 5.