Things are not looking up. The Comrade, our president, won't allow it.
Domestically, the House passed a comprehensive appropriations bill that includes exentensions for unemployment payments and payroll tax cuts. The tax cuts are minimal, wouldn't keep anyone in beer and cigarettes, but the Comrade thinks they make him look concerned and magnanimous, so they stay. These cuts have the added bonus of speeding up the bankruptcy of Social Security, but I'm not planning on being able to retire -- ever -- anyway.
The House also folded into the bill a request that the Comrade make a decision on the Keystone Pipeline proposal -- that is, building a pipeline from Canada to carry the oil sands to refineries in the USA.
The Comrade already said he wouldn't sign a bill that included the Keystone Pipeline. See, the Comrade would sacrifice 20,000 jobs and a big assist to the USA's energy independence so that he can collect a couple dozen votes from the more rabid tree-huggers.
Hey, Comrade, the radical environmentalists will never know. They're all living in caves and one-room soddies in the deep woods and refuse to use electricity -- likely no communications. Don't worry about it. They probably don't vote anyway. That would involve having a permanent address, and I do believe they just sorta swing from tree to tree on kudzu vines. That way they don't have to use gasoline, can keep an eye on those spotted owls, and make sure no one from the Dept. of Interior is clearing up the flammable deadwood and overgrowth from the forest floor.
Anyway, Brain-dead Harry Reid will not allow the Senate to review this bill, even though it passed the House with votes from both Republicans and democrats. And apparently the House dems even tried to enlist a few allies among democrat senators.
Ol' Brain-dead is just that though -- brain dead. They just wheel out his corpse, Hannibal-Lecter-style, occasionally, and prop him up in front of a microphone to mumble his unintelligible gibberish. I think he gave another speech about cowboy poetry or something the other day. Hard to tell. He was barely conscious.
Me, I'm wondering what the Senate is getting paid for. They've done nothing all year but sit on their dead asses.
I may personally mount a "Dump Durbn" campaign in Illinois. Do believe he'll be up for election next year.
On another subject, one of our Stealth Drones landed in Iran. Apparently no one really knows how that happened.
Some remote-control operator probably let Slappy Joe Biden sit at his desk for a minute, and boom! There goes the military technology. Just couldn't keep his hands off the joystick.
Anyway, apparently the Comrade, as commander-in-chief, had the option to blow up the drone remotely, but he decided not to. Better to let Iran have this technology so they can show it to their good friends around the world and further neutralize the US military.
And now the Comrade gets to make a humiliating spectacle of himself and the USA, crawling on his knees and begging for the return of the drone. I think the Comrade's afraid of the hairy little twit in the 1950's golf jacket, Abracadabrajab.
At any rate, does "bumbling idiot" ring any bells? The whole idea of the Comrade as commander-in-chief is like something from a horror movie. Or really more like Inspector Clouceau of "Pink Panther" fame. I mean, the Comrade never heard of "corpse-men" before he got into office.
So, I'm not happy about any of this. Do have my fingers crossed, though, that a couple blue-dog dems in the Senate will knock Brain-dead Harry over the head, tie him up in a burlap sack, and toss him off the 12th Street Bridge.
That would be a huge and very appreciated Christmas gift to the nation.
And then the heroic blue-dogs can go before the inevitable congressional investigation and explain, "I know nothng!" That seems to work in Washington these days.
Save the Republic.
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