May 16, 2010; Here comes the judge!

Me, him, CNN: never a good combination.

It was after his appointment at the clinic, his subsequent pain-killer and my afternoon walk; Skeeter and I were curled up on the La-Z-Boy watching TV when I said, "I'm glad to see your Obama has grown a pair and nominated that fat little dyke to the Supreme Court."

He sighed deeply and said, "That's offensive—and wrong!—in so many ways."

"Do try and penetrate my darkness," I sniped.

"First, as much as I like him, he's not my anything. Secondly, he's been pretty surly and, well, virile of late—what with BP and health care—"

"—that piece of middle-of-the-road shit!—"

"—whatever! And, though I would like it if she was a lesbian—" he hit the word hard "—apparently she's not—"

"—oh! puh-leeeeeeeeeeeze!" I howled with laughter.

"Well, that's what they say."

"Look, I'm not for queers as judges, but even less so for liars as judges."

"Hm," he said and I could tell he was trying to decide if he wanted to open this can of worms because when it came to political discussion he was not just a pinko but also a retard. I tend to believe a lot of the left's marginals are politically retarded—the gays, the coloureds, the broads—because their sense of victimhood is so key to their identity that they see everything that way; absolute, black and white, we suffered ergo you are wrong.

Hell! I'll never deny their suffering (that fat little dyke has a long row to hoe, let me tell you, being fat, little and a dyke), but I do deny that suffering replaces soundness when it comes to winning an argument. (And in case you're wondering, this also applies to destitute ex-Wall Street stock brokers and white trailer trash who want to sue McDonald's cause they're morbidly obese or because the coffee was too fucking hot.)

Skeeter sallied with: "I'll never win an argument with someone who thinks lesbianism is immoral—"

"That's not what I think!" I said. "Lesbians make me as hot as the next guy, it's when you have someone who is joining the court as a member of a group instead of as a wise person."

"Hm," he said again and I stared up at him thinking: "Wow, he's dumb." He went on, "I almost agree with you but as the court is now made up of Blacks and Hispanics and women a GLBT might be nice—"

"Ah yes, the sandwich!" I said.

"Hunh?"

"The Gay Lettuce, Bacon and Tomato gang."

He laughed and then said, "You know what really bothers me? If she's not one, that's fine, but that they're denying it so vehemently is not. They're denying it like it's an insult. Instead of saying, 'She isn't' the tone they're taking is, 'Don't be stupid! How dare you! She had all sorts of men in Harvard!'"

"So instead of being a dyke she was a slut," I snerfed. "A little fat slut...there's an appealing image."

"You're a pig," he said.

"We all are."

Later, during the evening walk, I ran into Benjie and the nice old lady, "I'm sorry about Cleo," Benj said.

"Now how the fuck do you know about that!" I asked. "I've told no one!"

"I read your blog."

"What!"

"The old biddy has a computer she uses for photos and e-mails to her daughters and grand-children. She doesn't know I climb onto it to read your blog and surf porn."

"Some sick stuff out there, isn't there, bro?" I said.

"Thank God," he said and snerfed.

Yes, we are all pigs. And none are bigger pigs than the senators who will be vetting the fat little dyke. It should make for great TV.