Cheney's big weekend adventure and subsequent message to America:
Go fuck yourself.
It was only this afternoon - and I'm guessing by the time Lynne had probably polished off her third bottle of Xanax since Saturday - that a public statement finally emerged from the Cheney camp, like a debutante trying to make an inconspicuous entrance at a country club luncheon after fellating the host's boyfriend in the cabana, praying that her lip gloss isn't smeared and there are no telltale stains on her dress.
And ironically, it's on Valentines Day that Cheney's unlucky hunting companion Harry Whittington reportedly suffers a minor heart attack, thanks to a wee bit of leftover birdshot lodged dangerously close to the poor man's heart - fired by someone who's had his own bout with cardiovascular distress and even worse, by someone we've all wondered at one time or another possesses a heart at all. I mean, I've done some evil shit in my life but Dick Cheney, sheesh...he's one cold son-of-a-gun. Literally.
Cheney's got a gun
Cheney's got a gun
His whole world's come undone
From shootin' ol' Whittington...
No, this definitely isn't Dick Cheney's week, but somewhere out there, someone's got to be printing up t-shirts with this very image of him, gazing adoringly at that rifle, like he wants to stick it up his ass and feel the love for himself.
Also, according to someone at our office - whose moneyed, connected Austin family were deep in the funk with Whittington's family - Whittington was still in intensive care yesterday, contrary to reports of his 'stable' condition and being moved back into intensive today. And apparently, when the Sheriff's department arrived on the scene after it all went down, the Secret Service wouldn't allow them to talk to ol' Dickles. But of course.
Don't you know who I am? I'm only the goddamned Vice President! Go fuck yourself, officer!
Can't you just envision the scene for yourself? He wouldn't even have to say it. All he'd have to do is flash that Nosferatu sneer of his, and both his security detail and the sheriff would know instantly that this mean old geezer meant business, and they'd better tread carefully if they didn't want their sons shipped off to some secret prison in Poland.
Another thing I really want to know is how much taxpayer money was used to pay for this sonofabitch hunting trip? And why wasn't Nancy Grace all over this last night, with her usual maggots-on-roadkill flair? I'm prepared to take back all the horrific and un-Christian things I've said about her in the past if she takes on Cheney's hunting mishap tonight, but chances are, that's not in the cards - she'll probably still be spewing on about the Entwistle case as the quail Cheney missed continue to take cover in that ratty-ass nest of hers she calls a hairdo. Jeezus Halliburton Christ...
Songs For 'Cheney's Got A Gun Week':
Dead Kennedys - I Fought The Law. Cheney's fighting the law, and he'll win, no doubt about it.
Junior Walker & the All-Stars - Shotgun. A song about a nutso lover, perfect for both Valentines Day and the Veep's little mishap.
Gun Club - For The Love of Ivy. Just for the line, "Gonna buy me a gun just as long as my arm..." - which has been the lyric I haven't been able to get out of my head all goddamned day. And which also makes me think fondly of a Jeffrey Lee Pierce quote I cut out of NME or Melody Maker years ago: "All I can think of when I see a picture of Nancy Reagan is, 'God, what a horror it must be to fuck her.'"
Nancy Sinatra - Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down). Somehow Cheney strikes me as a closet Nancy Sinatra fan. I can see him being a puddle of jelly at her feet, enjoying impure thoughts while staring at her album covers, hiding the Kleenex from Lynne.
The Beatles - Happiness is a Warm Gun. Bang, bang, shoot, shoot...
Blondie - Rifle Range. "I lost my heart at the rifle range." Debbie Harry did not sing that, did she?
It was only this afternoon - and I'm guessing by the time Lynne had probably polished off her third bottle of Xanax since Saturday - that a public statement finally emerged from the Cheney camp, like a debutante trying to make an inconspicuous entrance at a country club luncheon after fellating the host's boyfriend in the cabana, praying that her lip gloss isn't smeared and there are no telltale stains on her dress.
And ironically, it's on Valentines Day that Cheney's unlucky hunting companion Harry Whittington reportedly suffers a minor heart attack, thanks to a wee bit of leftover birdshot lodged dangerously close to the poor man's heart - fired by someone who's had his own bout with cardiovascular distress and even worse, by someone we've all wondered at one time or another possesses a heart at all. I mean, I've done some evil shit in my life but Dick Cheney, sheesh...he's one cold son-of-a-gun. Literally.
Cheney's got a gun
Cheney's got a gun
His whole world's come undone
From shootin' ol' Whittington...
No, this definitely isn't Dick Cheney's week, but somewhere out there, someone's got to be printing up t-shirts with this very image of him, gazing adoringly at that rifle, like he wants to stick it up his ass and feel the love for himself.
Also, according to someone at our office - whose moneyed, connected Austin family were deep in the funk with Whittington's family - Whittington was still in intensive care yesterday, contrary to reports of his 'stable' condition and being moved back into intensive today. And apparently, when the Sheriff's department arrived on the scene after it all went down, the Secret Service wouldn't allow them to talk to ol' Dickles. But of course.
Don't you know who I am? I'm only the goddamned Vice President! Go fuck yourself, officer!
Can't you just envision the scene for yourself? He wouldn't even have to say it. All he'd have to do is flash that Nosferatu sneer of his, and both his security detail and the sheriff would know instantly that this mean old geezer meant business, and they'd better tread carefully if they didn't want their sons shipped off to some secret prison in Poland.
Another thing I really want to know is how much taxpayer money was used to pay for this sonofabitch hunting trip? And why wasn't Nancy Grace all over this last night, with her usual maggots-on-roadkill flair? I'm prepared to take back all the horrific and un-Christian things I've said about her in the past if she takes on Cheney's hunting mishap tonight, but chances are, that's not in the cards - she'll probably still be spewing on about the Entwistle case as the quail Cheney missed continue to take cover in that ratty-ass nest of hers she calls a hairdo. Jeezus Halliburton Christ...
Songs For 'Cheney's Got A Gun Week':
Dead Kennedys - I Fought The Law. Cheney's fighting the law, and he'll win, no doubt about it.
Junior Walker & the All-Stars - Shotgun. A song about a nutso lover, perfect for both Valentines Day and the Veep's little mishap.
Gun Club - For The Love of Ivy. Just for the line, "Gonna buy me a gun just as long as my arm..." - which has been the lyric I haven't been able to get out of my head all goddamned day. And which also makes me think fondly of a Jeffrey Lee Pierce quote I cut out of NME or Melody Maker years ago: "All I can think of when I see a picture of Nancy Reagan is, 'God, what a horror it must be to fuck her.'"
Nancy Sinatra - Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down). Somehow Cheney strikes me as a closet Nancy Sinatra fan. I can see him being a puddle of jelly at her feet, enjoying impure thoughts while staring at her album covers, hiding the Kleenex from Lynne.
The Beatles - Happiness is a Warm Gun. Bang, bang, shoot, shoot...
Blondie - Rifle Range. "I lost my heart at the rifle range." Debbie Harry did not sing that, did she?
posted by No, You Can't Watch at 10:30 PM
1 Comments:
Like you were saying about that Gun Club song, I've had a part from a tune stuck in my head too, although the song as a whole isn't appropriate to the incident at all. Regardless I keep hearing that part from the Violent Femmes' Add It Up over and over...
Mo my my my my my mo my mum
Take a look now at what your boy has done
He's walking around like he's number one
You went downtown and got him a gun.
Don't shoot shoot shoot that thing at me
Don't shoot shoot shoot that thing at me
You know you got my sympathy
But don't shoot shoot shoot that thing at me
Post a Comment
<< Home