Paris does hot Al with EVOO

A familiar political refrains goes, “when your opponent is heading for a cliff, get out of his way.” A less familiar but just as universally true one goes, “Al Gore is an idiot.”

The boy is spouting day and night about the exigencies of global warming. We’re the warmest in a long time. Oh. Something like centuries. So, Al, what was the cause then? Too many camels? Campfires? Not enough Beano to aid in digestion? You know, the population was a lot smaller and their per capita consumption of carbon-based fuels was less, but I’ll give you this – something about bathing only when you get caught in the rain, eating varmints on unleavened bread, and not even having a newspaper to wipe your ass because the Gutenberg press hasn’t been invented yet does make me think flatulence would have been particularly vile due to higher concentrations of methane. Maybe that warmed the Earth, eh, Al?

But it looks like other people are finally catching on, too. About time. Some guy in Canada has told Al-boy to shut up. Al-child says lots of natural gas and landscape is being torn up to get oil in Alberta. OK. The Canada guy has trouble getting to his final point, but at last does – “We are a carbon-based economy.” He also suggested that Al-baby is taking the easy way out by criticizing but not solving.

You want to know how useless the legacy press is? Naw, forget it. Like shooting fish in a barrel. Sorry. Lost interest.

Want a recipe? I kinda made this up after reviewing a bunch of recipes. I bought a tube-thing of garlic and sun dried tomato polenta. Cut it into slices about three-quarters of an inch thick. Got twelve slices. While they rested on a paper towel for a moment, I put some spaghetti sauce (half a jar?) to warm and sliced cheese (I used Swiss because the Mozzarella had hair on it; btw, I used bottled sauce because my homemade was a different color than when I first made it). Returning to my original task, I dunked the slices into oil olive to coat both sides and then put them on the grill. Be sure to coat the grill first because they do stick a bit. After I flipped and had both sides marked up nicely, I put the cheese on each slice and let it melt. I used a two or three layers on each piece. Then I plated by stacking two slices and topping with a bit of sauce. I think a fresh sauce would be nice, maybe fresh basil on top, a little Parmesan Reggiano … it seems to me that this is a good base from which to make a memorable appetizer.

How about a fashion show? Instead of our prison girls, let’s do the Paris Fashion Show. These are the beautiful people with which Al Gore rubs his elbows. Different world than us ugly people live in. Hang on. (Think I am making this stuff up? It is to laugh, says I .)

Our first entry is thoroughly pissed off in a pink something with what looks like a tree root stuck on her head. The cheap looking fringe is somehow consistent with this thoroughly pathetic outfit. I am going to re-think my position on assisted suicide. Wow, such fashion!

The next gal is of equal good humor in this lobster motif reminiscent of chum tossed off a boat to attract sharks. I am sure the thought of being shark food is a step up from how this girl feels. Nice eye shadow – your eyebrows surgically raised?

Um, nice face? I grew up in a time when real people dressed like real people and cartoon people dressed like cartoon people. The closet we got to overlapping was when the carnival people came winter with us. This is fashion or the bearded lady?

Our first entry in drag is a welcomed changed. This dude is fooling no one. He is swinging left as sure as Elton John changes butt plugs between sets. It must be a tough industry to make money in if the models accept this type of behavior. “Look, Daddy, I’m somebody!!”

The birthday party is about to launch, and then this thing shows up asking for the child to be brought to her. It isn’t just the Bette Davis mug, but the unmistakable knowledge that the hat covers a horn.

This poor girl is still cranked from the heriod they shoved in her arm to get her onto the runway. ”You look, fab-u-lous, bab-bee!” comes the male voice with a tap on the butt. The orange and red bring out the bloodshot in your eyes, girl. It highlights the needle tracks in your arms. The green draws the viewers attention away from your I’m-about-to-projectile-vomit concerted look. Fashion is so flattering!

So what about the men, besides the ones in drag? Glad you asked. Check this, um, gentleman out. Two buttons – “69” “I {heart} Sex.” Make me puke. The only “69” you’re gonna see is with your German Shepard.

This is just all too gross. I have to bail.