The Dammit

First one of 2009! How, you must be asking, did I manage to go this long without finding something to be outraged about? Well, that gives us

Dammit #1:
I'm lazy. Well, feeling lazy, anyway. I just sent out invoices that should have gone two weeks ago (shut up, Thomas!). I've been dithering on a book proposal. There's a pile of laundry in my room that needs to be folded. The front garden is a mess (most wouldn't think so, but I'm usually a bit anal about it). Usually these would be signs of creeping depression, but now my brain is just tired. And feeling lazy.

Dammit #2:
R u s h L i m b a u g h. He calls women hos and femanazis; says that women work because they're unattractive and don't have alternative options for meeting people (men). He's loud and rude and crass. And yet he wonders why women don't like him. He has republican party bigwigs cowering at his feet and kissing the ring. He actually had the gall to invite the president of the US to debate him on the issues. Obama has more important things to thing about than a bloated talking head who thinks of no one but himself, but R u s h isn't not stupid; even this futile invite serves his purpose: Obama won't take the bait, leaving R u s h with the ability to say that Obama was afraid to come on his little show and "face" the 20 million, mostly male, listeners.

Dammit #3:
Bernie Madoff's portrait didn't go at auction. I expected that someone would have thought 100k a small price to pay for a large, sneering dartboard. Oh, wait: no one had any money left to pay for it. And he's just not worth the jail sentence one might get for slashing it. Not that I'm recommending that. Really.

Dammit #4:
I'm not ready to be 40.