Come for the politics, stay for the snark.

Whatever happens next week, the fight doesn’t end.

Never entrust democracy to any process that requires republicans to act in good faith.

Historically it was a little unusual for the president to be an incoherent babbling moron.

Everybody saw this coming.

“Everybody’s entitled to be an idiot.”

Yeah, with this crowd one never knows.

When do we start airlifting the women and children out of Texas?

The words do not have to be perfect.

I like you, you’re my kind of trouble.

Their freedom requires your slavery.

… riddled with inexplicable and elementary errors of law and fact

T R E 4 5 O N

A thin legal pretext to veneer over their personal religious and political desires

Some judge needs to shut this circus down soon.

Being the leader of the world means to be the leader of peace.

The party of Reagan has become the party of Putin.

Come on, man.

This fight is for everything.

They traffic in fear. it is their only currency. if we are fearful, they are winning.

When I decide to be condescending, you won’t have to dream up a fantasy about it.

I’d like to think you all would remain faithful to me if i ever tried to have some of you killed.

Sitting here in limbo waiting for the dice to roll

Too often we confuse noise with substance. too often we confuse setbacks with defeat.

Accused of treason; bitches about the ratings. I am in awe.

You are here: Home / Archives for Betty Cracker

Florida woman, boxer wrangler and football hooligan currently deep-fat frying something in a humid swamp somewhere.

Betty Cracker has been a Balloon Juice writer since 2012.

Circling the Drain

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Samuel Wurzelbacher, who has been milking his 15 minutes of “Joe the Plumber” fame for four years and counting, is running against Democratic Rep. Marcy Kaptur for a Congressional seat. Apparently a tender blossom despite his rugged, wipe-clean exterior, Wurzelbacher thinks it’s out of bounds to be asked about homophobic comments he made a few years ago (i.e., “I wouldn’t have them anywhere near my children”):

“Listen, in my dictionary and in everyone’s dictionary from the 1970s, the word queer did mean strange and unusual. There was no slur to it. Do you challenge that? Come on. You’re trying to do a gotcha moment, it’s quite obvious. I’m allowed to have my opinion as an American but it seems the left becomes very intolerant when you have an opinion other than what they state. My opinions are mine.”

Once again, an ignorant Constitution-humper confuses “free speech” with “freedom from criticism.” It will be a pleasure to watch Marcy Kaptur plunge this gargantuan turd down the drainpipe.

[H/T: The Raw Story; X-POSTED at Rumproast]

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Lamest. Reveal. Ever.

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Soooo, it turns out that short clip of President Obama praising Professor Bell at Harvard in 1991 IS the actual, unabridged Breitbartopocalypse video. Here it is straight from the horse’s ass:

Compare to the video BuzzFeed released earlier today, which I posted here. The production quality is infinitely better in the non-Breitbart version, but that’s about it, campers. And as many commenters noted, this is nothing new since it appeared in an Obama documentary years ago.

The “selective editing” the Breitbart minions are referencing turns out to be releasing a cleaner version of the same tape. This is the lamest reveal since Geraldo opened up Capone’s empty vault on live TV.

[X-POSTED at Rumproast]

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Speaking of Videotape…President Obama in 1990 (Updated x 2)

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Man, I sure hope Breitbart’s Big Heirs have something more than this harmless little clip to unleash on the world this week:

‘Cause if this is all they got, that’s kind of sad. Aside from the ‘fro, Mr. President hasn’t changed a bit, has he?

UPDATE: Just to clarify, I don’t know what the Breitbartlettes are planning to release. It’s pure speculation on my part that it’s something totally innocuous like this. But at his final CPAC, Breitbart did mention something about “racial division” and tape from the president’s college years. And given the BigBamboozle organization’s propensity for deceptive editing and outright lying, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were even now busily splicing this vid with Malcolm X clips and conflating “diversity” with “get honky.” It’s how they roll.

UPDATE THE 2ND: OMFG! I was kidding about this being THE Breitbartocalypse tape, but apparently ‘tis true! As JenJen in comments put it: “Oh, this is rich… Breitbart’s surviving minions are claiming the video Ben Smith released to Buzzfeed ‘has been selectively edited.’ Hahahahahaha.”

[H/T: TPM; X-POSTED at Rumproast.]

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Hot Speech-on-Speech Action

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This is dumb, even by Doughy Pantload standards:

Neither man is noted for his speaking abilities, so why would anyone want to “marry Rick Santorum’s and Mitt Romney’s speeches into a single address,” knowing that the result of that unholy alliance would either be pablum delivered in angry tones or grievances recited robotically?

What Goldberg actually longs for is a candidate who combines Santorum’s Torquemadan zeal to root out and reprove wickedness with Romney’s droid-like mien. But Goldberg begins with the reference to the speeches because suggesting a marriage of the men would be so, well, gay.

However, with typical sloth, Goldberg goes ahead and screws that metaphorical pooch anyway: “If you married the best parts of both men, you’d have something pretty impressive.” Married man parts — on NRO! Heckuva job, Goldy.

[X-POSTED on Rumproast]

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Little did I know…

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My daughter has played little league softball for years, and somehow, I’ve avoided volunteering for anything all this time. I’ve never been a “team mom.” I’ve never raked an infield or created chalk lines. I’ve paid teenagers a pittance to take on my concession stand duties. I’ve bought the whole damn box of fundraising candy bars and distributed them free to beggars. (Well, the ones I didn’t personally eat. The candy bars, not the beggars. And where “beggars” are defined as trick-or-treaters or anyone else I can pawn the damned things off on.)

In an inexplicable and unprecedented paroxysm of guilt and stupidity during the most recent call for volunteers, I raised my hand when no one else volunteered to fill the position of team scorekeeper. “How hard can it be?” I thought. I can count the damned kids when they cross the plate. I should have realized by the surprised reaction of several people — including the team manager and my daughter — that this was a huge mistake while there was still time to back out.

My MLB-loving, baseball stat-encyclopedia husband wasn’t there to stop me, but when I told him I was going to be the scorekeeper, this is what he said: “Hahahahahahaha!” As it turns out, there’s a lot more to it than counting runs and calculating simple sums. For example, the image below is not the Mars Rover schematics I first took it for but rather the scorekeeper’s sheet:

Fuck! Also, you have to know what things like “Fielder’s Choice” and “Pass Ball” are. And when things are “errors” and “assists” and the code to record who did what. And you have to keep track of rosters and substitutions for both teams. And you have to politely repel angry grandmas who insist you’re fucking up the error assignment, even though it’s only a goddamn scrimmage game, so she should shut the fuck up or volunteer to do it herself. And you can’t enjoy watching your own kid play because every second you have to track every fucking activity occurring on the field, with no breaks to pee or get a drink, which you’ll dearly wish was vodka instead of tepid water.

Man, this sucks! I found a tablet app for scorekeeping, but the league officials shot that idea down because they want their precious stats in their precious spiral notebooks. I have to keep score this afternoon for reals this time. Please keep me in your thoughts.

[X-POSTED at Rumproast]

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Chickens and Eggs… (Early Morning Open Thread)

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We recently knocked down an old, dilapidated shed in our backyard, and my husband is longing to fill that corner of the lot with something. (The man cannot abide a bare space in the yard.) He thinks we should build a coop and raise a flock of backyards chickens.

I’m not completely averse to the idea, but I suspect it’ll be a lot more of a hassle than we anticipate and that the drudgery involved will fall disproportionately on me. Actually, I think I have a much more realistic view of what it will entail than my city-boy spouse since I spent some of my childhood on a small farm with a flock of 30 or so chickens.

My memories of the chickens are mostly positive except for a couple of mean roosters. And also my father occasionally twisting one of the chicken’s heads off and making my sister and me pluck it for Sunday dinner. (We would both spend years as vegetarians thanks to that and an incident involving a cow we raised [Ferdinand] that was later converted into what my father referred to as “Ferdburgers.”)

Anyhoo, any chickens we purchase in the future will meet a happier fate than the chickens in my past, as we intend to add them to the mix strictly as egg producers and pets (and hens only, so no mean roosters). Still, I’m not entirely convinced it’s a good idea. In an effort to get me on board, my husband pointed out that we do something stupid every seven years, as if that were a convincing argument in the “pro” column.

We do something stupid far more often, of course, but he’s kind of right about the pattern of making possibly dumb decisions with far-reaching implications every seven years or so (getting married, reproducing, moving to the boonies, etc.).

So, does anyone have any experience with backyard chickens?

[H/T for photo: BuzzFeed]

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