A new — unofficial — website promises all the details on Mitt Romney’s 5 trillion dollar tax plan. I have to admit that at first glance they do seem to have captured the basic idea rather well.
Further study may be required to grasp all the fine points, though.
Thanks to DF for the pointer!
I was recently in New York, and encountered this sign as I was walking about.
Rhett was being groomed next to the sign and he was indeed a handsome specimen but even so I thought the idea of renting a dog for $1/minute was a bit strange.
On the other hand, my local guide had a different view: $60/ hour is cheap! Therapists charge much more per hour!
It pains me to link to link to this guy, but “The Real Romney” is very funny. Do not read while drinking coffee. Yes, you might call parts of it sophomoric, but I think a good part of the humor is surprise — this is by conservative apologist and spinner David Brooks.
It begins:
Mitt Romney was born on March 12, 1947, in Ohio, Florida, Michigan, Virginia and several other swing states. He emerged, hair first, believing in America, and especially its national parks. He was given the name Mitt, after the Roman god of mutual funds, and launched into the world with the lofty expectation that he would someday become the Arrow shirt man.
Romney was a precocious and gifted child. He uttered his first words (“I like to fire people”) at age 14 months, made his first gaffe at 15 months and purchased his first nursery school at 24 months. The school, highly leveraged, went under, but Romney made 24 million Jujubes on the deal.
Mitt grew up in a modest family. His father had an auto body shop called the American Motors Corporation, and his mother owned a small piece of land, Brazil. He had several boyhood friends, many of whom owned Nascar franchises, and excelled at school, where his fourth-grade project, “Inspiring Actuaries I Have Known,” was widely admired.
And it gets better.
(We didn’t get our paper today, so this is via Bark Bark Woof Woof.)
For some time now, Daily Kos has been running a regular feature called “The Chronicles of Mitt“. There have been lots of attempts to match Private Eye’s famous and oft-imitated Dear Bill letters but this may be the one to do it. The Dear Bill letters purported to be gin-soaked remonstrances from the UK’s Dennis Thacher, then the Prime Ministerial husband, to his best drinking buddy. They were hilarious.
The Chronicles of Mitt is a little different. I take it to be the log of an android-like entity writing to… well, I’m not quite sure to whom. Each begins, “Hello, human diary. It is I again, Mitt Romney, your better.” To his lesser half? I don’t care who they’re to: They are funny.
Take today’s — not exceptional, just averagely good, and the last line — wait for it — still wrested an evil chuckle from my gut: The Chronicles of Mitt: July 23, 2012. I know, I should be better than that.
Via Gene Spafford’s ‘yuks’ mailing list comes this category-killer of a joke:
An Englishman, a Scotsman, an Irishman, a Welshman, a Latvian, a Turk, a German, an Indian, several Americans (including a Hawaiian and an Alaskan), an Argentinean, a Dane, an Australian, a Slovak, an Egyptian, a Japanese, a Moroccan, a Frenchman, a New Zealander, a Spaniard, a Russian, a Guatemalan, a Colombian, a Pakistani, a Malaysian, a Croatian, an Uzbek, a Cypriot, a Pole, a Lithuanian, a Chinese, a Sri Lankan, a Lebanese, a Cayman Islander, an Ugandan, a Vietnamese, a Korean, an Uruguayan, a Czech, an Icelander, a Mexican, a Finn, a Honduran, a Panamanian, an Andorran, an Israeli, a Venezuelan, an Iranian, a Fijian, a Peruvian, an Estonian, a Syrian, a Brazilian, a Portuguese, a Liechtensteiner, a Mongolian, a Hungarian, a Canadian, a Moldovan, a Haitian, a Norfolk Islander, a Macedonian, a Bolivian, a Cook Islander, a Tajikistani, a Samoan, an Armenian, an Aruban, an Albanian, a Greenlander, a Micronesian, a Virgin Islander, a Georgian, a Bahaman, a Belarusian, a Cuban, a Tongan, a Cambodian, a Canadian, a Qatari, an Azerbaijani, a Romanian, a Chilean, a Jamaican, a Filipino, an Ukrainian, a Dutchman, an Ecuadorian, a Costa Rican, a Swede, a Bulgarian, a Serb, a Swiss, a Greek, a Belgian, a Singaporean, an Italian, a Norwegian and 2 Africans . . .
. . . walk into a very fine restaurant.
Jotwell Blenderlaw