Next semester I get the privilege of teaching 200 undergraduates in a class about the Presidency. The office and its powers, mind you, not the people who have filled it.

Every Presidency goes through multiple stages. The honeymoon, the rude awakening, a productive agenda-setting phase, etcetera. After Clinton and now Bush, I think that revised editions of Presidency textbooks will need to add Phase V: Indictments and Phase VI: Mass Resignations. Thanks for the memories, Scooter Libby. We hardly knew ye, Harriet Miers.

I said all throughout the 2004 election that the most frustrating part about it was that you knew America was going to turn on George Bush like a motherfucker about 9 months after he got re-elected. There's a fatigue inherent in any presidency that sets in after about 6 years, and it's accelerated with utterly incompetent Presidents such as our current model. Somehow the voting public managed to convince themselves that Bush was competent to serve for four more years and then they suddenly realized halfway through 2005 that, hey, maybe that war isn't going so well after all. And maybe the administration is corrupt and incestuous to its core.

Congratulations, America. And good luck to George Bush and his pals over the next couple years. Ignorant masses giveth, then they taketh away.

Polacks versus Prescott's Children

For the historical record: Channel 12 Chicago Fox showed, right after the commerical break after the Sox swept the world series, the disappointed faces of H.W. Bush and Barbara Bush in the Houston stadium.

The idea that the Chicago southside not only won the World Series, but also ruined the day of that aristocratic wealth-bearing family in the process, just makes the whole damn thing even better. "Barabara, how do you say that name….Pier-zan-ski?" It couldn't have been better than if they were then thrown in a pool afterwards. Picture to follow if I can find it later.

God Bless Chicago. God bless everyone reading this. God bless it all.

On the final day, near O'Hare airport…

It's well known the city of Chicago is trying to keep us down, with their noise violation tickets and anti-public-urination ordinances, but did you realize Mayor Daley is trying to fuck with your chances on the day of The Rapture? For quite some time, Chicago has been trying to add runways to its giant airport O'Hare. Part of where they are supposed to be built is over St. Johannes Cemetery. The city has agreed to move all the remains and monuments located there to other locations and cover all of the costs.

Just as it looked like the bulldozers were ready to go, another court order showed up demanding a halt. Here's the tribune's coverage (free reg required):

In their filing, the attorneys said the city's plan to relocate more than 1,300 graves in St. Johannes Cemetery violates a federal law designed to protect religious freedom…The opponents argued that any removal "of the remains of a Christian once he or she is committed to the sanctified final resting spot [could prevent] the physical resurrection of his or her body on the Day of Resurrection."

At first I thought this was a lawyer's trick so cynical it was compellingly beautiful (like some sort of jaded rose), but no, it's the true believers. From the Becket Fund (protecting the free expression of all religious traditions):

aside from the historical significance, the desecration of the cemetery would be a savage affront to the congregation's beliefs. The congregation believes that to remove the remains of their fellow believers from the place they have been laid at St. Johannes to await the day of resurrection would be a desecration of holy ground. Disturbance of the believers laid to rest is not something that they believe should ever happen other than at the direction of God himself on his appointed day of resurrection.

The funny part is, with the Left Behind series having sold more than 60 million copies in the United States, the defense will be a hundred times better off by not arguing about compelling interests, and instead findind a theologian or priest to get on the stand and say "Oh yes, if those graves are moved they can still definitely be resurrected on the final day."

At the end of the day, I'm sympathetic to the cemetery's argument. I hate seeing the old bulldozed over for the new and more profitable. But something about this latest lawsuit just screams of a cynical exploitation of the power of belief, and our deference to religion. For shame.


Do people in New York really have their heads as far up their own asses as their attitudes indicate? Or is the rest of the country just projecting inadequacies onto the helpless citizens of our nation's largest city?

I've always been firmly in the "heads in asses" camp. I saw something this morning that strongly reinforced my admitted bias. A New York sportswriter described this World Series as "the greatest Series ever played that no one saw" (pretend for a moment that he's not talking about a subject you don't care about….after all, you could punch in "Senate race" or "new Musical" and find the same comment being made about anything happening west of Manhattan).

I will assume this man has an atlas, internet access, and an old dusty World Almanac either in his posession or available to him through the company that pays him to write such nonsense. I will also assume that he realizes that the topic on which he speaks has played out between Los Angeles (2nd largest city), Chicago (3rd), and Houston (5th), with a combined metro area population of over 20 million. Not to mention some other little villages like Atlanta, Boston, and St. Louis.

As I like to say about politics, in order to make such a statement this writer must be either totally ignorant or a complete asshole. I have to strike out ignorance here – surely this man is aware that Chicago and Houston are rather populous. Therefore the only remaining possibility is that he and his legions of readers are complete and utter assholes. Because when he says "no one" he means "we", and of course nothing could possibly be important unless New Yorkers, the only people whose opinions count, care about it.

This man and his ilk may simply be oblivious to the existence of 250 million people in this country outside Manhattan. Or they may be conscious of it and honestly believe that their judgment is the sole arbiter of what is and is not important in the world – if William F. Buckley isn't writing about it and Annie Liebovitz isn't taking pictures of it, it might as well not be happening.

Fuck you, New York. I cannot stress that enough. Please. Get a running start down one of your long boulevards, hit the trampoline in full stride, and land ass-first on something long, thin, and cylindrical. And spare the rest of us two years of writing and news coverage about the Great Manhattan Ass Violation Spree of 2005.


Loyal readers who happen to spend entire days glued to a computer (either at work or merely for recreational purposes): I need your assistance.

World Series tickets go on sale via Ticketmaster at 12:00 noon (central time) on Tuesday, October 18. I am going to be doing everything in my meager power to get tickets, but I am only one man. If any of our readers would care to join in on the effort, I will gladly reimburse you for the tickets (along with a commission for your services). Tickets go on sale at 12:00 and will be sold out by about 12:02. Getting tickets online in such circumstances is always a crapshoot, and getting more people in on the action increases the odds exponentially.

Games 1, 2, 6, and 7 are in Chicago. I prefer games 2, 6, or 7 and lower deck tickets, but for the love of God anything you can get will be greeted with the most fervent thanks on my part. A maximum of 4 tickets per person are allowed – feel free to purchase either 2 or (preferably) 4.

Tickets are pricey ($125-$185 depending on location) but you'll have a check in your hands for more than the amount of the purchase price within 48 hours. You have's word. And that word is bond, bitches.


A batter is out when: (b) A third strike is legally caught by the catcher; "Legally caught" means in the catcher's glove before the ball touches the ground.

(b): The batter becomes a runner when the third strike called by the umpire is not caught … When a batter becomes a base runner on a third strike not caught by the catcher and starts for the dugout, or his position, and then realizes his situation and then attempts to reach first base, he is not out unless he or first base is tagged before he reaches first base

Alright, listen. I had the good fortune of being at this game, albeit not exactly right behind home plate.


  • Escobar threw a nasty-ass splitter
  • Pierzynski swung and missed
  • The ball hit the ground and was trapped by catcher Josh Paul
  • The umpire put his right arm up to indicate "strike 3"
  • Pierzynski took a step toward the dugout
  • Being a catcher, he realized he hadn't been tagged and ran for 1st base
  • Paul, misinterpreting the "strike 3" signal as "Out", dropped the ball and left the field

    In short, the umpire made the right decision but the wrong signal. He interpreted the rule correctly – on a 3rd strike that hits the ground, a tag is required – but his arm signal was unclear. The ump insists that he always uses that motion for "strike 3" and a different one (pulling his arm toward his body) for "out". So I feel bad for the Angels – I initially thought the ump had signalled "out" myself, and I can see how it was confusing.


    However, the media are neglecting to mention that in the second inning Aaron Rowand was called out at home attempting to score on an errant throw after a triple. Replays clearly show that the ump – the very same home plate ump – blew the call. He was safe. The throw beat him, but the tag didn't. So absent that blown call in the Angels' favor, the Sox wouldn't even have been batting in the 9th. Luck giveth and taketh away.

    We'll return to more talk about James Dobson and sex dolls soon, I promise.

  • "Lonely loser. Pathological creep. Misogynist. Potential rapist."

    These, as puts it, are very apt terms to describe a man who engages in sexual practices with a doll. When examining the notion of a "sex doll" imagery of the blow up doll with gaping mouth frequently used as comic relief in shameless films comes to mind. However, it would seem that the company Real Doll has been attempting to change this stereotype since 1996. That's right, for around $6500.00 you could have a "life like" sex doll crafted with state of the art "Hollywood special effects technology".

    Historically speaking, has introduced its readers to a vast array of stories that could be said to make fun of themselves. That said, when I first became aware of this phenomenon when reading a story on I realized that never before had something been so instrinsically ridiculous as to need no further fun making.

    So then, as opposed to actually making any sort of attempt at degrading these people's "lifestyles" I will instead try to explain to you how I came to the conclusion that this is the single most absurd thing ever posted on

    All right then….

    To start, when I clicked on the story, I was greeted by this photo:

    Yes, this man clearly spent $6500 on the worlds most realistic sex doll

    This man….is playing video games with his sex doll. He gave his sex doll a controller? I began reading the article and found out that he has named the doll Sidore and discribes it as being "…everything that turns him on: beautiful, loyal, a great listener." Yes, I know that in its own right, this is creepy. However we soon find out that the doll is half british half Japanese, has the atrological sign Cancer, and get ready for it…..IS A GOTH. The owner of this particular doll, named Davecat, is also goth, has a very bizzare anglophile obsession (I am led to believe that he speaks in a fake British accent), thinks that his doll is an intellectual who, it if could, would walk around with Sylvia Plath books under her/its arms, and sadly believes that "No real woman seems to think I'm good enough for them."

    Now, correct me if I am wrong, but this is already exceptionally absurd. However, the article proceeds to regale you with tales of others' doll experiences. We find out that some people have multiple dolls and choose particular ones for particular sex acts. We get the advice from Mike Kelly that "Head 4 is very tight orally. It has a small mouth if you've got a Head 4/Body 5 … you've pretty much got it covered. Tight as a drum."

    So as you can imagine, at this point I am treading a very fine line between thinking that this is hysterical and being exceptionally creeped out. This is when I notice that the story has a photo gallery. I proceed to see a picture of two dolls posed on a bed. The caption informed me that the owner claims that they are sisters. He does not have sex with them, he just likes posing them and taking pictures – yes, that is clearly what happens.

    Finally, a story related by a man who specializes in repairing the dolls:

    Another time, an Asian undergraduate student at a university in California dropped his 1-year-old doll off for repairs. Fiero says the young man told him that his parents bought him the doll so that he would stay at home and study rather than go out chasing women. Fiero's photographs of the damaged doll make me cringe: Her leg was torn off, revealing the steel hardware of her hip joints; an arm hung by an inch of silicone flesh; two fingers were severed; and the cleavage between her buttocks was torn into a ragged crevasse.

    "Her vagina was so blown out," Fiero told me. "I was appalled. I couldn't believe someone could fuck something like that up so quickly. It blew me away. How could somebody be so callous? I was offended in so many ways," he continues. "He put her feet behind her head and reamed that doll with whatever cock he's got. He fucked her violently. She was achieving positions she shouldn't achieve or be forced to try. Her vagina and anus were a giant gaping hole."

    Well, basically this article is about 8000 words worth of viceral, amusing, and incredibly disturbing imagery. As a final note, he sells about 2 million dollars worth of these a year.

    If you are interested in being truely creeped out, read the FAQ. I honestly could not read any more than a fraction of it before I had to close the browser. My feelings about this can be best described by the Big Lebowski quote:

    And then darkness washed over the Dude.

    THE 2005 DION RAYFORD AWARD GOES TO… has its heroes. Ol' Dirty Bastard, Sir Robert Burnett, Winston Churchill, and many more exemplary individuals have represented the spirit of this webpage throughout history. But there is a special breed of hero who deserves our highest honor – our Congressional Medal of Honor, if you will – for going above and beyond the call of duty to enjoy alcohol or low-priced Mexican food.

    On the original, we told you the inspirational story of Dion Rayford, a 275-pound college football player who was arrested for assaulting Taco Bell employees who omitted a chalupa from his order. An ordinary man would have dropped the matter – but Dion is no ordinary man. He leapt from his car and attempted to assault the Taco Bell staff by lunging through the drive-thru window. As the window was only 14 inches wide, he quickly became stuck. Police arrived to find his legs dangling out of the drive-thru while his arms no doubt reached for tacos inside the restaurant. He never got his chalupa, but it wasn't for lack of trying.

    In Dion's honor, I announce the 2005 winners of the award given to the person or persons who best exemplify the spirit of the ginandtacos: Ian Nichelsen and Tyler Clouatre of North Platte, Nebraska.

    These two 18 year-olds are currently facing up to 20 years in prison. Their crime? Not murder, nor theft, nor assault, nor treason. They broke into an Arby's while drunk. To steal? No, to cook.

    "I know you're addicted…ain't no methadone for curly fries, bitch."

    The hungry and shitfaced teens broke into their neighborhood Arby's around 3 AM and proceeded to fire up the grill and deep fryers. They also brought with them a 30-can case of cheap beer. For two hours they enjoyed curly fries, wads of whatever nonspecific meat by-product Arby's calls "beef," and lots of beer. When an Arby's employee arrived at 5 AM to begin opening the restaurant, police were summoned. Not ones to surrender, our intrepid intruders went to the roof of the building and kept eating.

    We can only assume they attempted, without success, to find a White Castle.

    "My God," you say, "an award for something that involved neither gin nor tacos?" Your point is fair but misguided. What these men did is bigger than what they drank or in what form they consumed fried starch. It takes a hell of a lot of alcohol to make Arby's seem tasty. We cannot imagine how much would be required to make breaking into an Arby's out of hunger seem like a good idea.

    Salut, gentlemen. We will raise funds for your legal defense if necessary. It is too bad you don't live in Fort Wayne, Indiana, where the Arby's never closes. There you could have satisfied your lust legally.


    I apologize to all the ginandtacos fans who have come to expect a consistent supply of political ranting from me at the exclusion of more banal topics, but I'm in the grip of a full-fledged White Sox fever this week. Symptoms include euphoria and repeated references to 1983.

    I no longer live in Chicago, but I hope – and I can only hope – that everything South of Pilsen is shutting down at about 2:30 today so the entire sausage-loving portion of the population can be in front of their TV by the 3:00 first pitch.

    "Sweep the leg, Johnny."

    Fuck Boston. Fuck them and their fans and their stupid-ass movies about being a fan starring Jimmy Fallon. Not to mention Drew Barrymore. With Freddy Garcia (10-3 on the road) squaring off against Tim "The batting tee" Wakefield and his league-worst ERA, I can only implore the White Sox in the manner chosen by the head of the Cobra Kai in The Karate Kid: "Finish them…..finish them!"

    Oh, and fuck the national media that can't seem to write stories about anything other than the Red Sox being poised to take the next three games to win the series. Fuck them right in the ear.

    I wouldn't be able to look myself in the mirror if I didn't leave work early today. Fire up a polish in my honor, Chicago. I am with you in spirit.


    (Berlin, 1941. A darkened office.)

    Goebbels: "You know what would be neat?"
    Himmler: "Killing Jews?"
    Goebbels: (mildly irritated)"Yeah, but that's beside the point. Let's require some sort of state-approved license to allow people to reproduce!"
    Himmler: "Good God…'re a genius, man!"


    Fast forward to Indiana, a middling state in the richest and most powerful nation on Earth in 2005.

    (Indianapolis, 2005. A darkened office.)

    Republican Senator Patricia Miller: "You know what would be neat?"
    Staff: "Killing Jews?"
    Republican Senator Patricia Miller: (mildly irritated)"Yeah, but that's beside the point. Let's require some sort of state-approved license to allow people to reproduce!"
    Staff: "Good God…'re a genius, man!"


    Yes, welcome to George Bush's America, v2005. It seems that State Senator Patricia Miller, a woman after W's heart if I ever saw one, decided that unmarried people should require a "reproductive license" (I wish I was making this up) from their local probate court to pursue medical fertility treatment. Violators are subject to punishment for "Unauthorized reproduction," a Class B misdemeanor. The criminal penalties apply to women who become pregnant outside of marriage via "means other than sexual intercourse." Sperm donors, you're fired.

    She doesn't look Asian, but she's learned a lot from Chinese social policy

    While dozens of blogs have leapt on the main premise of this proposal, very few seem to have read all the way through it and grasped its full depravity. The definition of married couples that can receive fertility treatments is restricted to:

  • Couples who "prove" regular church attendance
  • State access to the woman's medical history to verify that she has never had an abortion or a prescription for contraceptives
  • Women who pass a state-administered "psychological evaluation" to determine whether or not a "gestational certificate" (for the last time, I'm not making this up) will be issued

    I almost don't even know what to say about this. For once, I'm speechless. It speaks for itself, and it's saying "AHHHHHHHH! I AM FUCKING INSANE!" If you ever needed any proof that the "pro-life" movement has nothing to do with "life" and everything to do with psychotic Bible-thumping extremists controlling every aspect of your (apparently non-existent) right to your own body from conception to vegetative brain death, this is it.

    I think this quote from her interview with Indianapolis' NUVO magazine says it all:

    When asked specifically if she believes marriage should be a
    requirement for motherhood, and if that is part of the bill's
    intention, Sen. Miller responded, "Yes. Yes, I do."

    Feel free to email Senator Miller and let her know how you feel about new-age Republican eugenics via this online form or directly at (317) 232-9489. Use the word "fuck" liberally. Tell'em sent you.