THE TEXAS SCRIBBLER

Probably not. Shelob was altogether too mean and much too smart to be more than extra annoyed by a measly can of Raid. Or even twenty cans.

But how about Spiderman? Hmm.

Miriam has a funny post.

It’s a “what if” about the face on a thousand thingies that’s so ubiquitous nowadays nobody notices it any more.

What if the Left’s favorite Commie thug Che had been plain old Ernie Guevara?

Ah, those crafty Mullahs, ever on the watch-out for the 12th Man, uh, Imam, have spied out the nefarious rabbi father of Krusty the Clown and banned the very dolls created from the Simpsons.

But you know who they really fear? Maggie. The one with the gun.

It’s the Second Amendment thing, you see, what gave the common folk the right to bear arms, something only the elite had been allowed to do since the Middle Ages—and the elite, even the so-called democratic version, have been trying to take it back ever since.

Mooch, as some call the ever-vacationing Michelle Obama—the first First Lady in my memory with a penchant for expensive hotels and fancy restaurants on the taxpayer’s tab, is merely following a national trend for living on other people’s money.

Ours, says a new book reviewed by the Instapundit, is a nation of moochers.

“In today’s America, government benefits flow to large numbers of people who are encouraged to vote for politicians who’ll keep them coming.  The benefits are paid for by other people who, being less numerous, can’t muster enough votes to put this to a stop.”

And we’re not talking about the poor-on-welfare here, but the upper-middle like Michelle and, someday, there could be more moochers than makers.

Via Instapundit.

Mrs. Charm is the television consumer at the rancho. Unless you count Mr. Boy’s periodic consumption of Sponge Bob. Her fave Roku show these days is Mad Men, a soaper return to the early 1960s urban advertising game, with lots of skinny ties, incessant smoking and martini lunches.

Also the girdled wives and girlfriends, which brings back some interesting memories I won’t mention (this is a family blog). This was back when women used hairspray but men didn’t. Instead, for us, it was grease or oil—Brylcreem or Vitalis, as I recall. Awful stuff, really, even the smell.

Supposedly, according to the show, throwing trash on the ground was also common. I don’t recall doing that, expect for one item. Pulling over to the side of the road to dump the car’s ashtray. How many times did I do that? Too many to count. Shameless behavior, truly.

VDH has it so right with this advice for Gingrich to stop with the whining:

“…stop the accusations now, turn attention away from himself, stop complaining about the mechanics of the race, stick with critiquing Obama, and at least seem a good sport when he loses.”

‘Cause it’s pretty obvious that he’s not going to win. I’d rather him than Mittens, but we might as well face it. The fat lady has warbled. It’s time to focus on belittling Obozo, who is so eminently belittle-able.

Not that my paying for them, via tax money, really bothers me much, though I think they’ve become a form of birth control for a lot of uneducated and/or irresponsible women.

But, really, why should people who don’t believe in abortion have to pay for them? I suppose for the same reason people who don’t believe in war have to buy the bombs for the B-52s. But abortion is a trickier subject and Obozo may come to regret this one. I hope.

OTOH, abortions, via such venerable political organizations as Planned Parenthood (which actually helps women avoid parenthood), are as sacred to the Democrat party as labor unions. Obozo has no more choice (so to speak) in this matter than he does about supporting the AFL-CIO—an organization once (as recently as the 1970s) famed for its racism.

Via Michelle Malkin.

UPDATE:  Obozo tells religious groups to go to hell. That’ll learn ‘em.

The badge gang may wear their surnames on their chests, or, at least, they used to. But woe unto anyone who dares take their picture in the, cough, performance of their duties. (Much less the consumption of their donuts.)

Fortunately there are lots of out-of-work lawyers these days just waiting to sue, and more and more precedent cases. The gang is especially touchy on this one because they’re losing.

Not a big surprise, but still worth a read.

“The only president to ever need a teleprompter to handle a press conference — so his staff could feed him the answers…”

Via Instapundit.

One of the guest experts on my violinlab video lessons the other day summed up what I’m discovering about this complex musical instrument after just about eight weeks—something to the effect that, even if you began at about age five, life wouldn’t be long enough to learn everything there is to know about the fiddle.

Which reminded me of another, lighter remark made by one of the other violinlab subscribers—almost all of whom are well over forty and live, literally, all around the world. He (or she) might have been from Argentina, or was it Oz? It was in response to a new forum member’s complaint about something or other of the thousand-and-one things to keep in mind while simultaneously trying to pick out the correct notes and bow with beautiful intonation: “Oh, it gets easier with time. Lots of time.”