Eight Feet Deep

GW looking slightly crazier after all these years.

I just love the White House Web site. It’s the best thing since beans. On that site I can — to paraphrase the immortal schmaltzer Bobby Goldsboro — sit here watching Scotty’s nose grow. I speak of Scotty McClellan, of course. I can’t wait to see what he’s got not to say today. But I suppose I will have to contain myself until the official press briefing transcript is posted.

But I also love the White House’s site because I can lift photos of the president without infringing on anyone’s copyright. And two good ones of GW were posted today from his trip to Panama. Both look equally goofy. I couldn’t decide which one to use so I decided to use both.

The president tries to bean NBC’s David Gregory who is on the phone to Don Imus.

I suppose I could do better than that caption. But I am taking a break from real, by God paying work, and break time’s over. It’s back on my head.

Probably the bit of news I have heard in the last couple of days that fails to even register on the “who-gives-a-crap” scale is the suspension of Philadelphia Eagles receiver Terrell Owens.

Owens is the typical spoiled, self-centered professional athlete who is really good at his job and really sucks at people skills. Good riddance I would say, except some other team will undoubtedly pick him up next year and pay him more money than he has sense.

Speaking of me, me, me, one thing that really rubs me the wrong way in pro football is excessive celebration. No, I’m not talking about players dancing in the end zone, or pulling out their cell phones to call their agents. If you really want to look like a jackass and you made a touchdown, then you have earned your right to look like a jackass. I’m talking about players who celebrate after every play. They make a block. They celebrate. They make a hit. They celebrate. They didn’t commit a penalty. They celebrate. They made it off the field without stepping on someone. They celebrate.

What they are celebrating is something called “doing their job.” Jeez, could you imagine if people in other professions celebrated each time they did their job. Imagine a dentist giving you a shot of novacaine. High five with the assistant. He drills out a massive hole in your mouth. He shouts: “Yes” and goes “moonwalking” around the room. He fills your tooth. He jumps up on the counter and shakes his ass. You pay the bill. He goes out and gets a hooker.

Well, maybe your dentist does that. People are just weird these days.

It’s funny how criminals in the movies are so often portrayed as being cunning and ingenuous. So it is unlikely that anyone will ever make a movie about Charles Victor Thompson.

Thompson — who escaped from jail in Houston while awaiting a return to Death Row in Livingston, Texas — was captured Sunday by police in Shreveport, La. The cops found Chuckie drunk and on the pay phone. Well, I mean where else would you find an escaped murderer, right?

Police said he had help walking out of jail in street clothes but beyond that are no particular signs of ingenuity.

“There’s no way Chuck had the brain power for this,” John Donaghy, whose sister Thompson was convicted of killing, told the Associated Press. “He’s not the sharpest pencil in the box.”

Maybe he just wanted to get drunk one last time. And since he is on Death Row in Texas it likely will be his last time to tie one on.

Q: If you sawed rapper 50 Cent in half would you have Two Quarters?

“Well, they kick you round so much when you’re not a star
Make you play all night just for a pittance or a token … ” Al Stewart