With Democrats Like This, Who Needs Republicans?

Listen, I’ll say right up front that I think Clinton should stay in the race as long as she wants.  She would be an excellent nominee and, if that’s how the party goes, I’m ready to vote for her.

But this?

“My husband did not wrap up the nomination in 1992 until he won the California primary somewhere in the middle of June, right? We all remember Bobby Kennedy was assassinated in June in California. You know I just, I don’t understand it,” she said, dismissing the idea of dropping out.

What the fuck?

I know campaigns are long and grueling.  But to act as if–especially in the context of her citing her appeal to discontented whites–bringing up Kennedy is not some way of saying “Well, hey, someone might shoot Obama and then I would be the nominee” seems hard to believe.

Have we ever had a campaign where one candidate suggested he should stay in the race in case the other candidate was killed?

Yuck.

Oh, Hobbs

Yeah, and the TNGOP hired a Muslim-bashing, Harris-Teeter-shopping guy who likes to pick on women to be their voice to the outside world.  What of it?

Cottage Gardens

Folks, I have been looking all over the internets to find out what an “English Garden” is an coming up more and more confused by the seeming disconnect between what people are calling an English Garden and what an English garden seems to be.

But I just discovered, it’s a cottage garden.  They mean a cottage garden.

Which, if I had a home, I could grow.

I wonder if it’d be wise to just buy a lot, put my garden on it, and then, once the wisteria over the deck got thick enough, use that for shelter.

The Man from GM Sent me Roses!

I just walked into the office (I was a little late because I was on the phone with my spiritual adviser having a fight about how I never answer my phone.  Perhaps the Man from GM should call him and they can commiserate.) and found a big pile of roses on my desk from the Man from GM.  I wish I knew how to work my camera on my phone, because they are the most beautiful hot pink things.

Anyway, woo hoo.

I just had to brag on him a little.

My Favorite Hobby Leaves Me with a Question

My favorite hobby, which combines my love of Mrs. Wigglebottom with my love of feminism, is driving around ruining things for young men.  Often, Mrs. W and I get in the car, turn up the Cypress Hill en Spanglish, and cruise the streets of this city, watching the faces of the young men turn when they hear then thud of the base, see their eyes catch the bad-ass dog, and then watch their expressions turn to confusion and horror as they see me, me, Ms. Square from Squaresville in my old person car, enjoying all the things they hold as sacred markers of cool.

Oh, cruel, cruel world.

Though, truth be told, most of the kids seem to find it funny.

Anyway, so my question is not about Cypress Hill, who, in all fairness to every other rap group out there, is talented in exactly inverse proportion to their egos, which is why listening to them in a language you don’t know is so crucial.  Then, you don’t have to be aware of how stupid their lyrics are.

Which, I guess I should have warned you folks who know Spanish about before the video.

No, my question is about this song, which, if you don’t love, I’m not sure you’re ever getting invited to ride around in my car with me ruining things for young men.

In my unhipness, I have always assumed Umi was a pet name for his grandma, no reason, just that it seems like good advice a grandma would give you “Shine your light for the world to see.”  But recently I saw it called “UMI says” as if UMI is an acronym for something.

I must have one hipster reader who can clear things up.

Help!

Unless, of course, you’re not talking to me after inflicting Cypress Hill on you.