Garage Mahal calls me out to cheer up on Althouse when the poor ninny doesn't even realize he has his own series of posts with hot chicks.I guess when you get obsessed with politics you don't care if you get thrown under the bus.
Or the car.
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8 comments:
If Garage's legs are that nice, I may have to re-evaluate how big a douche he is.
I think if Garage get's an Althouse tag he'll cross over to the dark side and be a conservative.
Ok, maybe that's asking too much.
The mere fact that GM picked you out of the lineup over there tells me that he's watching you, maybe even stalking your blog.
And if Althouse checks out Victoria's blog (and comment section), she probably comes here too. She should be as proud as Norman Lear was of Maude*
*Calling "Trooper York" an Althouse spin-off can be attributed to the Marvelous Meade.
Thank you, chick man. I am pretty marvelous, am I not?
Meade said I am pretty marvelous, am I not?
Frontpaging and tags are just gateway Althouse blog drugs, having experienced both. I want to know what it takes to get an adjective--like "marvelous," or "wonderful." You are like the older, more experienced brother, Meade. Tell us what it's like.
You are so astutely right about the gateway aspect to frontpaging and tags, chickenlittle. Look at Trooper himself - the dude collected so many tags that he could afford to give, not sell, but give his surplus tags to hapless commie-lib readers like garage mahal. That is impressive.
Now mind you, most of that has to do with Trooper's big Irish never met a stranger (un)common sense of human kindness. After all, Trooper is large and he does contain multitudes. Plus, he seems to have some sort of inside line on all the best Adrienne Barbou pics.
But you called it very well -- Adjectives are definitely where it is at when it comes to tripping your balls off on Althouse Acid. Bissage, as we all know, is the Timothy Leary of the blog and if you are truly looking for a guide to that celestial sphere of higher consciousness, you really need to consult with him. If you can find him.
But I can give this small insight: Adverbs are worthless. They are nothing but weak bitter decaf linguistic tea. And don't even bother with lesser noun adjuncts like participles, the khat of the english language. Down that road lies insomnia, anorexia, gastric disorders, depression, liver damage and cardiac complications, manic behavior, delusional behavior, violence, suicidal depression, hallucinations, paranoia, psychosis, and, at the very end of that road, lying in puddles of their own vomit - Mets fans and... right: Doyle.
Sorry, chicklit, but the secret to my success will have to remain just that - a trade secret. I will, however, provide you one small hint: Althouse, cruel neutrality notwithstanding, is and will always be a (true) liberal with a big expansive compassionate heart. It's a heart that bleeds at the drop of a kitten or the twisted mossy branch in an ancient oak on the outskirts of Madison. This is a characteristic in her person, in her very soul, that her antagonists, both left and right, will never be able to comprehend.
I've already said too much but here is your hint, chick. Ponder it well, my friend:
Learn. to. beg. Like a dog. A dog with big sad lonely brown eyes. Hungry, cuddly, and lost.
Boom... she's putty.
I'll have some of what Meade's smokin'.
It might be kat.
Or pussy.
Or is it a smokin' pussy.
Wait that calls for a photo.
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