This hag is what passes for “hot” in conservative circles; she’s the most attractive arrow in the Viagra-assisted Republican quiver. A couple of guys tried (and, sadly, failed) to pie her in the face at a ranting speaking engagement yesterday. Unsheathing her rapier wit, she retorted, “From that far away they can’t even hit me?” Oooh, good one, Ann!

Considering the way they drool over this haggard, spindly Q-tip, is it any wonder the Right thinks the Boy King is the nuts? Clearly, they have no judgement, no taste. Which is reason # 525,429 why W must go.

And speaking of W’s impending unemployment, don’t let the completely baffling polls showing that W is inching back into the lead again get you down. Employ the power of positive thinking.

Look, my special purpose has a name!

And that’s when I use my full name in the generator. When I use just “Chuck” I come up with Captain Kirk. That’s almost better. I could call it Tiberius for short. If, you know, guys ever used the word “short” when describing their units.

So what does a wannabe writer do when he finds himself unemployed? I mean after he plays online poker for a few days and watches Oprah with the blinds drawn and eats 6 pieces of peanut butter rye toast for lunch? That’s right, he fucks around on the interweb for a few days. After that, well, then he starts thinking about getting back to writing again.

He takes out all the old index cards for one of his pet screenplay ideas and dusts them off, starts brainstorming to fill out the story, starts making notes, starts trying to restart the old writing engine. And just when the engine turns over and starts idling again — roughly, but idling nonetheless — just then he casually Googles the title for this unique idea … and finds out that it’s currently in production for release next year. And fucking SNL’s Lorne Michaels is behind it. Which means, of course, that it’ll be a total steaming pile of crap that makes a gazillion dollars and if I continue with my script it will look like I copied the crap.

Crap. It’s all about timing — or as Steve Martin called it in an old bit, “Tie Ming” — and mine sucks. I know I have marketable ideas because other people keep making them. What I don’t have is the butt-glue necessary to beat them to it. This is the third screenplay idea of mine that someone else went ahead and made while I was twiddling my thumbs, and I can’t count how many sitcom story ideas of mine magically appeared on TV while I was index carding them. But, hey, you know what? Those other writers did it while all I did was dream. They’re the big winnas, I’m the big wanna. It’s on me.

So this week’s project: butt-glue. In copious amounts.

(But my Blade concept was good, dammit. And that’s all I’ll say about that.)

�We may need a bigger army.”
– Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, Time, 12/21/03

�The draft –� which will include both boys and girls this time around — is a no-brainer in ’05 and ’06.”
– Col. David Hackworth (ret.), Military.com, 10/4/04

“I made it very plain. We will not have an all-volunteer army.”
– George W. Bush, 10/16/04

Q: What is the difference between Vietnam and Iraq?

A: George W. Bush had a plan to get out of Vietnam.

From the Daily Kos

It’s almost a cliche now to blog about what ninnies Southern Californians are when it rains, especially those in the Los Angeles area. It’s also becoming a cliche to note that our TV news weather reports when it’s raining are always hysterical exhortations about “The Storm of the Century of the Decade of the Year of the Month of the Fortnight of the Week of the Weekday of the Day of the Afternoon of the Hour of the Minute!!! And Oh My God It’s Raining And We’re Melting AAAAIIIEEEEE!!!!!” All that kind of goes without saying. (Even though I just said it. Redundantly, even.) But L.A.’s ombrophobia is very close to home today so I’m going to talk about it anyway.

The phone rang at 7:30 this morning. It was Zoe’s school calling to inform us that classes were canceled for the day. It rained, you see. Well, to be fair, it rained and part of the campus was flooded. But still, they could have worked around it, I’m sure. But as I’ve noted before, this is a school that will cancel classes at the drop of a hat, and if they have to drop the hat in the first place, then so be it. So lest children (and more likely faculty) melt, school’s out for the day! And you working parents, good luck lining up childcare! Bye! Fortunately, we have an unemployed parent hanging around the house these days, which comes in really handy when school is cancelled for precipitous reasons and chilluns need minding.

The phone rang again about twenty minutes later. One of Zoe’s classmate’s fathers was on the line. His wife was out of town and he had to go to work and could his daughter maybe come over to our house for the day? Yes, word of the unemployeed and thus available for chillun-minding adult was spreading fast. So I said sure, bring her over. Two kids are easier to mind than one because they entertain each other and leave me free to play online poker all day.

The phone rang again ten minutes after Beth left for work. It was the nanny of another classmate wondering did Zoe want to come over for the day since there was no school? And that’s when Camp Daddy was born. I already had two kids here, what’s one more? I suggested she bring hers to me and I’d watch all three and she could have the day off. She leapt at the idea. Camp Daddy was in business.

So now it’s me and three kids and pouring rain. I’m being about as watchful as any dad you’ve seen in the movies might be: I’m letting the girls run rampant while I’m holed up in my office. I poke my head out from time to time and listen for screams or breaking glass or ominous silences, then I go back to letting the inmates run the asylum.

They’re eating a cheese and bacon pizza for lunch right now. The activities so far have included bouncing on the back yard trampoline in the pouring rain, jump-roping in the pouring rain, running in screaming circles in the pouring rain, and sitting at the window watching the pouring rain. These kids are clearly not fully-grown Angelenos yet because they are not afraid of the rain. This will come in time.

All things considered, Camp Daddy is working out pretty well. I may be on to a new career path here.

The Lunchroom shut down for awhile there. So sorry.

If you’ll recall, about three weeks back I took a day trip to San Francisco and asked you all to put out good vibes for me. I was up there for a job interview with a company where I’d be doing for TV exactly what I’ve been doing for the last three years for radio. I couldn’t be more qualified for the position and they’ve already hired six of my coworkers, two of whom I trained. The job was a lock.

Or so I thought. Because now it looks like I didn’t get the job. I think I probably priced myself out of it with a salary request about $5000 higher than I know they hired a coworker at, but that’s how you negotiate: start high and then work your way down. I started high — and they never countered. Oopsie.

So that seriously took the wind out of my sails and that’s a large part of why I haven’t been posting. I was halfway planning a triumphant “Check it out, I got a new job with more money already!” type entry, but then they didn’t call me. And didn’t call me. And. Didn’t. Call. Me. So I didn’t exactly feel like shouting from the rooftops, if you know what I mean. I mean, they hired six of my coworkers. Two of them people I trained. And they don’t want me? WTF?

But, eh, whatever. That severance check from my last job is looking a lot smaller now, but the truth is that this gig I interviewed for wasn’t really a very good fit for me, family-wise. It was going to be 75% travel (or more), which — after being home 24/7 for two months now — would be hard on us, and especially hard on Zoe. And this company expects its employees to pay all their travel expenses up-front and be reimbursed later, which can be pretty expensive when you’re doing 75% travel. But mainly the traveling would suck. I’ve really enjoyed being around lately, able to take Zoe to school in the morning and pick her up in the afternoon, have dinner as a family every night, spend some quality time with Beth, not be gone but instead be here. It’s been nice. It’s felt almost … normal. Going back to traveling again wouldn’t exactly be a step forward.

So not getting a job I thought was a lock sucks, there’s no doubt about it. But it’s not all bad, either. I just need to find something else.

At least I’ve found some wind.

My close personal friend Jim asks: “Hey Chuck, take a picture of something you LIKE about the Republicans.” Sure thing, Jim. Here you go:

Now this is a Republican for whom I would vote.

The votes aren’t even cast, counted and ignored in Florida yet, and already the Republican National Committee is doing everything they can to cheat their way back into the White House: Now they’re funding a voter registration company in several key states that is shredding Democrat registration forms.

Considering Bush’s insane reference to Dred Scott in the last debate, I half expect them to try to reinstate the Jim Crow laws before the election.

Today’s Republican party: the wrong kind of Right.

I shamelessly stole this from the other Chuck at the Big Mattress.