Just what the truth is, I can’t say anymore

I rarely give a ‘links’ post, but, hey, what the hell…

Dude looks like a lady: Susan Boyle, the Margaret Rutherford of the American Idol set, has smashed all records with her new CD, I Dreamed A Dream. I’m no music critic, I just knows what I likes. And this ain’t it.

Deny, deny deny: In the sporting news this week, Tiger Woods dished a wad of boo-hoo-hooey over how sorry he is for porking some babe on the side and how important family is, bla bla bla. Of course he’s blabbering like a bitch: he got caught. If Woods were truly remorseful, the cat would’ve been out of the bag long before that weird OJ-esque car crash, and before “the alleged” concubine spilled the beans.

Afghanistan banana stand: “But one hour and ten minutes after taking the drug, with one man climbing a tree to feed the birds, the troop commander gave up, admitting that he could no longer control himself or his men. He himself then relapsed into laughter.” Back in the paisley day, I had a feeling that LSD was the key to World Peace. My hazy instincts were correct: check out Soldiers on Acid @ Environmental Graffiti and dig the vid.

I’m all right Jack, keep your hands off my stack: As we cozy up to a Yule Tide season via Walmart, we can pray that “they” don’t up the price of oil to where we’d be shelling out, as it were, fifteen or twenty bucks a gallon. Then we’d get to watch capitalism crumble by President’s Day. While the clock’s a’tickin’ (and you’re trying to stretch your unemployment check to cover the holiday goose) take a gander at Mr. Wolcott’s Turkey Day post.