The U.S. Supreme Court Vs. Wednesday

The starting nine for the Washington Idiots.

---I'm thinking Ruth Bader Ginsburg is the shortstop.

---Everytime I see that old bag, I'm reminded of a dead pigeon on the side of the road.

---Of course, this motley crew is in the news because Obummer just got a chance to replace another one.

---I'm looking at this new nominee, Elena Kagan, and I'm immediately reminded of that old SNL character, the androgynous Pat.

---Well, at least, Elena can feel comfortable that she can use either locker room.

---Your choice for a worse sight? Clarence Thomas in his boxers or Ruth Bader Ginsburg in her skivvies?

---With the amount of legal experience that Kagan brings to the bench, I am wondering why I wasn't considered.

---Sometimes I get the idea that Obummer makes these picks based on which friends of his have picked up a lunch check.

---I'm starting a Facebook petition. "One million people who want Judge Judy on the Supreme Court."

---You got a better option? She's a helluva better judge than these assholes.

---I've written it before and I'm writing it again. There is no dumber government contrivance than the US Supreme Court.

---Both sides of the aisle try to clog it with their own biased picks, so that the majority wins.

---Len's solution: Every decision they come up with must be a unanimous vote.

---That would be the truest form of legal pronouncements.

---Of course, that means nothing would ever get done.

---But, still, let's lock these jerks in a room until they all agree.

---The downside? Who wants to be caged up that long with Ruth Bader Ginsburg? You just know she smells of mothballs and pee.

---And I have this idea that Clarence Thomas uses way too much Brut cologne.

---One more shout out to Betty White for making last week's SNL semi-watchable.

---Now there are rumblings that they want to put her on next season's "Dancing with the Stars."

---Question to Hollywood: Are you trying to kill her?

---Of course, Betty, you do have the final say. Once in a while, it's okay if the password is "no."

---If she's that bored sitting at home, she might want to invest in the premium movie package on cable.

---Old is in. Now there's an 80-year-old powerhouse singer, Janey Cutler, who is this year's version of Susan Boyle on "Britain's Got Talent."

---Now if we could only get film producers to realize that demographics can stretch beyond the age of 25.

---And 35. And 45.

---Thumbs down to all those dopey Brits who booed Julie Andrews last week. They paid 150 bucks to see her in person and got pissed when she sang only two songs.

---Hello, dummies? Is your tea too strong? Have you read a newspaper? Have you leaned out your apartment window in the past ten years? Julie doesn't sing anymore.

---It's a good thing that Teddy Pendergrass died. They might boo him for not dancing.

---If you hear a knock on your door, that just might be the US Census taker.

---Or a home invasion.

---From what I could see of some of those census takers, it might be both.

---I love these TV commercials telling you why it's important to fill out your census form. Because if you do, wonderful things can happen to your community.

---So, if you're counted, there's money coming your way? Are we counting the population or running a Publisher's Clearing House contest?

---Nowhere on the census form is this question.

---"Are you a US citizen?"

---Now, admittedly, there are many, many totally legit folks in this country who are legal immigrants. Perhaps on a green card or waiting to be sworn in.

---But, there are also many, many, many more totally illegit folks who entered this country by cuddling up with a tire iron in the trunk of a Ford Escort.

---Here's what they should do with the census information. Crosstab it with the US Internal Revenue Service records.

---And that's how you use the census to get more money for your community.

---Civility is dead. To the asshole who was sitting in front of me at last Sunday's Dodger game and told me that I clapped too loud: you should have showed up before the fifth inning. I wasn't clapping then.

---You told me the noise was piercing through your head. Well, it's not my fault that the sound goes straight through with nothing to stop it.

---It was a fucking baseball game. Not Mother Theresa's funeral.

---And hopefully you figured that out when you got home and found all my pistachio shells in your bag.

Dinner last night: Italian chopped salad at BJ's.