Archive for the 'Politics' Category

SchadenBOYde

Published by Jordan on October 3, 2006 in Famous PEN15s, News and Politics. 5 Comments

FoleyscreenshotI gotta be honest with you. I feel bad for the younguns and all, but whenever an anti-gay Republican politician gets popped for fucking around with underaged dudes, for me it’s like suckling on the swollen teat of Mary Mother of God. Really. Few things give me more satisfaction, except for having awesome cybersex with a 16-year-old student council president. But you know what I mean.

Day by day the Representative Mark Foley scandal gets worse. It’s like watching Michelle Rodriguez perform. At first, it’s pretty bad. Then, it gets worse. And right when you think it can’t possibly get any worse, there’s a crying and/or orgasm scene. Foley’s scandal has unfolded like a copy of the New York Post that someone shat in and folded back up. I already can’t wait what tomorrow brings!

Let’s recap, shall we?

First, the media obtains emails sent by Foley to underage male pages suggesting an overly friendly relationship with the young men. Foley’s people claim that asking the boys for their photos is standard practice, even after they complete the page program.

Then, instant messages between Foley and the boys surface, suggesting that the relationship was more than overly friendly; it was downright dirty. In fact, reading through the transcripts rang reminiscent of many confessional exchanges I had with clergy back in my Catholic days.

Follow that up with the admission of some in the Republican leadership that they knew of the possible threat that Foley posed over a year ago, while Foley checks himself into rehab. Don’t you hate it when you drink too much and turn all pedophile-y?

And finally, today. More instant message transcripts appear in the hands of the media featuring a censored (but undoubtedly steamy) cybersex conversation between Fogey — err, Foley — and a strapping young lad. Later, Foley admits to being gay and also to have been molested by clergy when he himself was a teen, events which apparently always go hand-in-hand.

The only disappointment of the entire scenario is the fact that the media censored the cyersex conversation. But guess what! The PEN15 Club obtained an unmolested copy of the transcript, which we will reprint for your reading enjoyment:

Maf54: I miss you

Teen: ya me too

Maf54: we are still voting

Maf54: you miss me too

Teen: Yeah. Like a 16-year-old misses kissing his grandma.

Maf54: I like it when u talk like that. See? I type ‘u’ instead of ‘you.’ How hip am I?!?!

Teen: LOL. You bring new meaning to ‘hip replacement.’

Maf54: U hard? Measure yourself for me.

Teen: A solid foot-and-a-half of swingin’ death, grandpa. What u gonna do about it?

Maf54: fhjadsklfhjsdkfl;ajdkfal;j!!!!!!!!!

Maf54: Nothing now. That was so much better than doing my wife. U finish?

Teen: Yeah. Whoopdedoo. Yehaw. Whatever you say.

Maf54: Isn’t this internet great?! We can have this relationship secretly with no way for anyone to find out about our love for each other.

Teen: Yeah. It’s Fort Fucking Knox.

Maf54: ok..i better go vote..did you know you would have this effect on me

Teen: lol I guessed

Teen: ya go vote…I don’t want to keep you from doing our job

Maf54: can I have a good kiss goodnight

Teen: :-*

Teen: <kiss>

New Foley Instant Message: Had Internet Sex While Awaiting House Vote [ABC News]

Instant Message Obtained by ABC News Cast Doubt on Claims from Foley’s Lawyer [ABC News]

Andy Towle’s continuing coverage [Towleroad]

Puckerin’ Putin blows minds, raspberries

Published by Jordan on July 6, 2006 in News, Politics, Potpourri and Rants. 1 Comment

Vert.Putin.ApI long days when it wasn’t considered strange for the ruler of a country to go up up to a 5-year-old boy, lift his shirt, and kiss him on the stomach in front of thousands of bystanders. I’ll bet you Russian president Vladimir Putin is cursing all of those Catholic Priests that ruined it for everyone else. Okay, it was strange that Putin wanted to crawl across a broken Stoli bottle to get to the boy’s belly… but still, I’m sure his intentions were, uh, normal.

Okay, seriously. Putin. You just don’t do it. Resist the urge, compadre. It doesn’t matter how “innocent,” “defenseless,” and “kitten”-like the child is. You don’t kiss kids on their stomachs if they aren’t yours. Heck, don’t kiss kids period. It doesn’t take a whole lot of self restraint to not crouch over, not lift the child’s shirt up, and not kiss his stomach. Now, I get the social mores in Russia may be a little different and all, but seriously, until that kid is old enough to know you’re a whack job, keep your lips to your vodka bottle, big guy.

And to think! This from the country that bought us TaTu. Figures!

Putin kissed boy ‘like a kitten’ - [CNN]

CNN punishes all of us

Published by Jordan on July 5, 2006 in Bitches, Gunts, News and Politics. 1 Comment

Condi

Okay! Mercy! Uncle! What did we do to deserve this, CNN? And why does this remind me so much of the look that one lesbian gave me when I accidentally stepped on her Irish Setter’s tail?

All I know is that if I were Kim Jong Il, this photo would be enough to not only make me disarm, but to barricade myself in a Neiman Marcus where Condi would never dare to search.

If this is the face of Pissed Off America, you do not want to see what PMS America looks like.

Polls that aren’t measured in inches

Published by Jordan on June 5, 2006 in News, Politics and Rants. 8 Comments

200606052128

If the pie chart illustrating Americans’ support for a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage were an actual pie – say, rhubarb, the gayest of all pies – it would be shared by Karl Rove and Ted Kennedy, Rove devouring the blue half of the pie, and Kennedy feasting on the red, because, ya know, he’s 3% less fat than Rove. The remaining sliver would be shipped in a styrofoam to-go container to Condi, who would immediately assume it was a subtle jab at her own sexuality, but then proceed to burry her face in the box and munch on the pink, fleshy goodness… of the rhubarb.

My soul always fades a little closer to death whenever I see the gay marriage debate appear on the front page of CNN.com. It just reminds me that people who have never suffered any sort of discrimination whatsoever are making important decisions about my future, and my ability to have a happy and healthy family life. It reminds me that I have to split my goddamned pie fifty-fifty with the gluttonous, obese, Jesus-fucking pigs that got us into this hate-filled mess in the first place. It reminds me that all of these despicable cunts are then going to tout my apparent sick obsession with the same sex across the front page of every media outlet, in a show of pointless political bravado.

Well, fuck you and the fucking missionary position you fuck in, fuckers. If you take away my right to marry (remember, this Club is in Mass.), I’ll just fucking adopt all of your fucking unwanted kids and raise them to hate fuckwads like you. How do you like them apples, Other Half?

Sorry. That got a lot more hostile than I originally expected. Conversations about pie normally end better than that. But as long as Dolly Parton remains married (and thus not interested in marrying me), I’m banking on this whole gay marriage thing working out.

GOP renews fight against gay marriage [CNN]

PEN15 Drippings: 5/22/06

Published by Rob on May 22, 2006 in AC:Crazy, Celebs, Films, Gunts, News and Politics. 1 Comment

200605222239 Condi Rice’s Boston College commencement speech is met with exponentially more approval than protest, and those who did protest were mostly just angry that she’s not “Jesuit” enough. As if Elisabeth Hasselbeck’s diploma wasn’t enough to make you hate BC forever. No word on whether Condi spent Graduation Eve trolling Cleveland Circle for naive coed trim. [The Boston Herald]

A cruel parody of the time-honored tradition of slutty starlets angling for attention on the Croisette, Tara Reid’s Cannes appearance cements her legacy as this century’s answer to Sally Kirkland. And, as usual, the tits are a problem. [Hollywood Rag]

Speaking of Cannes, Southland Tales, writer-director Richard Kelly’s long-awaited Donnie Darko follow-up, is officially the sinus-clearing catastrophe of the festival. Which is what happens when you earn goodwill with a movie starring both Gyllenhaals, and follow it with a movie starring The Rock, Stifler and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. [Green Cine]

I ran across this ad featuring Anderson Cooper’s iPod playlist, and found that Gawker had reported on it, but neglected to mention the sad irony of Andie’s selection of “Proud Mary” as one of his favorites. [Gawker]

A Gay Without Immigrants

Published by Jordan on May 1, 2006 in News, Politics and Potpourri. 4 Comments

Newt1.1956.Wash.Dc.ApLadies and gentleman, I must apologize for the following post. The little El Salvadorian woman who usually writes my posts didn’t show up for work today. And the French Canadian that proofs her writing isn’t responding to emails. So I must resort to doing the only thing that I’m good at: writing lists.

Today, as hundreds of thousands of immigrants took to the streets to show the country how awful it would be without the small percentage of them that are illegal, this gay struggled just to make it through his day. And, boy, let me tell you, after today, you can find me in an ice cream truck with someone who looks like Ludacris making runs to the border. Lesson: learned, alright amigos?

A Gay Without Immigrants

  • 7:15 a.m. The rhesus monkey I bought on eBay to stand in for my alarm clock (a Chilean professional bird caller I pay handsomely to reproduce the sounds of a South American rain forest to ease me into a waking state) didn’t quite cut it. When I finally did open my eyes, I had to wake him up while picking the feces out of my hair.
  • 7:40 a.m. The Italian grandmother I hired to roll cannolis for me every morning was actually ready to work, but she couldn’t get the fresh ricotta she needed because Formaggio was closed (no immigrants there; they’re just bleeding-heart South Enders). Instead, she prepared a bowl of raisin bran out of a bag of ground bran and a basket of grapes I had laying around
  • 8:15 a.m. Morning coffee with Arianna Huffington: cancelled
  • 8:30 a.m. Went to Dunkin Donuts instead. Strangely, I only had to say my order once
  • 8:45 a.m. After trying to pay a nice American lad from Milton to pull my commutin’ rickshaw in place of my usual puller, I gave up and took the subway to work
  • 9:00 a.m. After trying to explain to my boss why I thought being gay was a form of immigration, I seceded and booted up my computer. And by “computer,” I mean the Japanese fellow who does my calculations for me. You see, he knows the meaning of loyalty. Yes, I booted him up
  • 11:30 a.m. Client call. But the client was Abercrombie, so, uh, everyone was there
  • 12:30 p.m. Lunchtime. The woman who usually packs my box lunch, Marina Navratilova, asked for the day off. So I instead ventured into a Panera where they were serving only peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The 14-year-old South Shore punk behind the counter explained that they couldn’t find any of the other fix-ins, and unless I knew what “en la cocina” meant, I was getting PB&J
  • 2:00 p.m. My afternoon doppio from Starbucks was seasoned with the bittersweet tears of an overly-empathetic lesbian barista named Amanda, who is probably writing about this in her LiveJournal as I write
  • 6:00 p.m. Afternoon bourbon with Roman Totenberg: cancelled
  • 6:30 p.m. Off to the gym. Who knew that you couldn’t tell from how someone grunts whether or not he’s an immigrant? And who knew how uncomfortable it was to dry off with a cold towel? Certainly not I
  • 7:00 p.m. Without a taxi in sight, Doug Mirabelli arrives back at Fenway Stadium in a State Trooper just in time for the first pitch
  • 8:00 p.m. The slow realization that watching the Sox game sans nachos is something no one should ever have to experience. Even my microwavable burrito fails to satisfy me on this day
  • 8:30 p.m. Sitting down to write this post, I attempt to learn how to use a keyboard for the first time. Typing is hard when you don’t have a tall, Icelandic man to whip and yell “HOME ROW!” at every 5 minutes.

I don’t think I need to state the moral of this story, folks. The lesson is loud and clear here – don’t let the immigrants that do your work read the news!

Now, how am I going to get to sleep tonight without the Mariachi band that normally lulls me into a slumber?

Bush grins and Colberts it

Published by Rob on April 30, 2006 in Bitches, News, Politics and Rants. 1 Comment

200604301912 If you haven’t seen Stephen Colbert’s lacerating, 25-minute closing presentation from Saturday’s White House Correspondents’ Association Dinner, enjoy. Colbert - as his cluelessly gut-driven, O’Reilly-style Comedy Central altar ego - gleefully lobs spitballs at the President while looking him straight in the eye, then has the nerve to call his press corps audience on its own bullshit again and again. He actually opens with a joke about the Cheney shooting (directed right at Bush, with faultless eye contact, which Colbert maintains throughout the speech), and throughout, no subject remains off limits. The laughs in the room are scattered, but it makes for hilarious viewing.

The closing video vignette, in which Colbert (fantasizing about being White House Press Secretary) is chased, Freddy Krueger-style, by former UPI White House Bureau Chief Helen Thomas as she demands to know why we invaded Iraq, whips itself into an absurd frenzy. Within seconds, it manages to make a Karl Rove gay joke and compare Condi Rice to The Facts of Life’s Tootie.

Be sure to relish the awkward post-show moment between Colbert and Dubya as the former leaves the stage. Mee-fucking-yow.

If you just want to skim, Daily Kos has a transcript.

Colbert roasts Bush [YouTube]

Improved Colbert transcript [Daily Kos]

Every man has Cheneeds

Published by Jordan on March 23, 2006 in Bitches, News, Politics and Rants. 11 Comments

200603232103Dick’s got needs. I mean, they’re not Paul McCartney no-fake-or-real-animal-print-furniture-and-only-orange-m&ms needs, but for a public servant, they’re somewhat lofty.

The Smoking Gun was able to grab a copy of Cheney’s rider (or, in gov speak, “Vice Presidential Downtime Requirements”), and while they’re pretty tame, there’s a few things that stand out. Let’s dissect, shall we?

  • Queen or King Size Bed - apparently depending on how he’s got his hog harnessed that day
  • Desk with Chair - He feels as if the two go so naturally together, as God meant
  • Private Bathroom - Of course every hotel room has a private bathroom, but what Cheney meant was another bathroom for his penis to use
  • All lights turned on - Lest he be forced to figure out how to operate a light switch… Plus, I hear he totally likes to watch himself perform
  • Temperature set to 68 degrees - He meant celsius, because that would make a comfy 154° fahrenheit – just as Lucifer likes it
  • All Televisions tuned to FOX News - Because fumbling with a television remote distracts him from the task at hand: beating off to O’Reilly
  • Microwave - I hear that causing Peeps to explode in the microwave reminds Cheney of all the things that were right about Abu Ghraib
  • Coffee Pot in the Suite (BREW DECAF PRIOR TO ARRIVAL) - DO NOT CAFFEINATE THE CHEY.
  • Container for Ice (and the location of where ice maker is located [sic]) - And the location of the location of where the ice maker is located. Ice. Very important. So. Much. Swelling.
  • Diet Caffeine Free Sprite - For fuck’s sake, Veep. Can we get you some white bread and vanilla ice cream while you’re at it? Do you bring your own black tar heroine to snort off the top of the cans of lame-assed soda? Give us something, here
  • Hotel Restaurant Menu - And a pen so Mr. Cheney can find various food items to alter to include the word “freedom.” Oh, and it should have Sudoku. The Vice President loves his Sudoku.
  • If the hotel would like to put a gift in the Suite please let the Advance Team know ASAP - As we need to know whether to send the Vice President with thank you cards or send him with condoms

To me, the most disturbing part of this entire document is the alarmingly loose grasp its author has on the English language, basic grammar, and elementary punctuation. You know, the people who work for our government…

Dick Cheney’s Suite Demands [TSG]

S for Strategery

Published by Rob on March 22, 2006 in Films, News and Politics. 2 Comments

200603222300 The PEN15 Club just got back from seeing V for Vendetta, and we heartily endorse it. Any movie that can use church-related pederasty as the basis for a comic action set piece is okay by us. We’re glad it’s winning rave reviews and topping the box office, but we can’t help but wonder - is it going to scare the Rethuglicans?

Here’s a film that features a building-bombing terrorist as a hero, makes fun of Bush-friendly opiate-of-the-masses buzzwords like “freedom” and “unity,” rails against the military/industrial/government/media/church complex, and envisions a not-too-distant-future in which gays and Muslims are interned in prison camps.

The Bush administration is way too out-of-touch to be concerned about such a film connecting with the kiddies, but if it weren’t, what kind of propaganda films might it make in order to lessen the sting? Let’s brainstorm, shall we?

  • W for War President: A manly Chief Executive (Tom Selleck) takes the War on Terror into his own hands, donning a mask and going all vigilante on the terrorists’ asses.
  • I for Internets: A masked, booksmart librarian (Patricia Heaton) uses her research smarts to foil terrorist plots using the world wide interweb.
  • B for Born-Again: A wealthy Jewish oil magnate (Ron Silver) nearly kills himself while driving drunk, then dries out and finds Jesus. All while wearing a mask.
  • O for Ownership Society: A masked Stuckey’s waitress (Jessica Simpson) buys her first home. A doublewide.
  • IBMIBAMAAW for I Believe Marriage is Between a Man and a Woman: A right-thinking Christian mom (um, Patricia Heaton again) dons a mask and prowls the streets of Massachusetts breaking up gay marriages.

Suddenly Cindy

Published by Jordan on March 20, 2006 in Bitches, Gunts, News and Politics. 1 Comment

5158Our beloved tight-rolled-pant-and-baggy-t-shirt-wearing activist, Cindy Sheehan, is a gal about town these days. She’s trading in her burning fires of fury for a set of burning set lights as she begins filming her own weekly reality series on the Sundance Channel.

In addition to that, Cindy is publishing a novel next month,….

… attending opening night of the one-woman play inspired by her story,….

… and assisting with the production of the Cindy Sheehan biopic staring (not shitting you) Susan Sarandon.

And finally, Cindy descends into the throngs of people who have personally benefitted off of the death of a loved one, including Lisa Beamer, and the parents of Terry Shaivo. Also known as the lamest cocktail party in hell.

And if you still can’t get enough of Cindy, check out these other things coming very soon:

  • The Cindy Sheehan Ringtone: Download the nasal sounds of the Outrage Tour 2005 played against a ballad by Matchbox 20
  • The Cindy Sheehan Podcast: Actually just shopping advice directly from Cindy, and instructions on how to make your very own “I’ve got a bad cat-titude” night shirt and wader jeans
  • The Cindy Sheehan Cookbook: Various dishes involving loads of cheddar cheese, two kinds of starches, and the tears of a patriot
  • The Cindy Sheehan Doll: With exchangeable hair-don’ts and various expressions of self pity

Cindy, all our best. We love you because you’ve got moxy and will go on national television without wearing anything like a bra. I’d like to see Lisa Beamer do that.

The Defiant War [SF Gate]

via Best Week Ever Blog