I’m Not a Part of the Redneck Agenda

My favorite political song of the year, if not forever, remains Green Day’s “American Idiot,” if only for the line “I’m not a part of the redneck agenda.”

But the most moving political video of the year has got to be Eminem’s “Mosh.” It’s not his best song, but it’s terrific. Here’s a link to the video, though, I must warn you that it took me all morning to be able to connect to it. It seems like Launch might also have it, but I bet they’ve edited the cuss words out.

Also, in the spirit of openness, I must remind you that I’m a hippie liberal scum, so if art that shares that point of view is not to your liking, you might not like either song mentioned here today.

Stinky Mrs. Wigglebottom

I’m not one to knock certain brands of pet care products. I’m not one who normally gives pet care products a whole lot of thought. You know, pet care products are just items I take for granted will work and I spend my time thinking about more important things, such as whether a beer burp is superior to a Mountain Dew burp.

But, hartz, you’ve let me down. It started innocently enough: your flea products made all the ass hair on the small cat fall out. Sure, it was alarming, but it solved the argument that’s been raging in our house for as long as we’ve owned the small cat–who’s going to clean the shit out of the long ass hair, and how will they do it? Without ass hair, the shit could just drop into the litterbox cleanly and the small cat smelled pleasantly shit free. So the cat was half-bald. The hair’s grown back and she’s no more worse for wear.

But now, your shampoo makes my dog stink. She stinks so thoroughly that she got in the bathtub of her own accord on Saturday and stood in there until I came looking for her and discovered that even she knew she needed a bath.

At that point, I had not blamed the shampoo. I’d blamed being away for a week in Vegas. I blamed the Butcher, who I assumed had involved the dog in some stink-inducing plot that he’s too embarrassed to tell me about. After all, when I got home from Vegas, she was covered in a strange red rash.

But after the bath, she smelled even worse and, when I re-opened the bottle of shampoo and took a good sniff, I knew that she did, indeed, smell like that shampoo gone horribly wrong.

Never one to waste an opportunity to flirt with cute girls, the Butcher is seizing the chance to go to our favorite pet store and ask the girl who works the counter for help locating a shampoo that will not make my dog stink so bad she can’t stand herself.

So, you can see how things go in our household. I have to put up with the stinky dog and the Butcher gets to turn this who thing to his advantage. There’s a lesson in here someplace; I’m just not sure what it is.

Oh, wait, yes, the lesson is that there will be no more Hartz products in our house.