P&J consider it amazing that this story from the Washington Times (via MSNBC), forwarded by our friend Tommy from Queens, didn’t get wider national front-page coverage.
In the grand tradition of faux patriotic issues — like trying to ban flag-burning — two Republican US representatives, Bob Ney of Ohio, and Walter Jones of North Carolina, showed they have too much time on their hands and too little brain in their heads. In 2003, they called for the French fries in the House of Representatives’ basement cafeteria to be renamed “Freedom Fries.” This was supposed to be some sort of gallant retaliation for the Gallic surrender monkeys’ refusal to join the US in its idiotic and inexcusable launching of a war in Iraq, which has since caused immeasurable and widespread suffering.
As representatives and senators like Joe Lieberman and Hillary Clinton tap-dance as fast as they can to distance themselves from the Bushies’ follies, the House cafeteria has gone back to calling the spuds French fries. This took place with very little fanfare, no doubt because of the embarrassment of being made to look foolish by such certified morons as Ney and Jones.
At least Jones has called for the withdrawal of troops from Iraq, a move that went over with his GOP colleagues like a cold soufflé. Ney, meanwhile, has shown his true colors as an ethical politician, declaring he will not seek re-election, because he doesn’t want his family to have to endure allegations that he may have been a bagman for reprehensible lobbyist Jack Abramoff.
MSNBC reports, “A spokesman for Ney’s replacement, Representative Vern Ehlers, told NBC News, ‘It’s no big deal. . . . It’s not news.’ ” P&J beg to differ. It is just the sort of thing we should all be focusing on, lest we have to “worry our beautiful minds,” as Barbara “Mommy” Bush once put it about losing US troops (now almost 2600) in son Dubya’s misguided war. As for Representative Ney, if you wind up ordering your Freedom Fries in the federal penitentiary, ask for another favorite GOP vegetable — ketchup — to go with them.
Pimp our ride
Your superior correspondents’ inspired prose and repute have evidently reached far beyond the confines of the Biggest Little.
As we drove through Narragansett last week en route to Town Beach, to put an extra glow on our George Hamilton tans, P&J passed a parked car with what we believed to be Pennsylvania license plates. What really caught our eye was on the plates: “VODILUN,” big and plain as could be.
We are flattered that an out-of-stater would adopt one of the Cool, Cool World’s signature taglines for Little Rhody (thank God, it wasn’t a Masshole from north of the border) for public display. We are equally pleased to see that a Pennsylvanian would pay homage to our home state, although trying to explain Vo Dilun to anyone who hasn’t visited the Ocean State would be like explicating a David Lynch movie to an Amish farmer.
Be that as it may, the owner of the car with the VODILUN plates is welcome at Casa Diablo anytime. Just pull up to the gate and blow your horn.