- From bringmemyTofu in Radar Posthumously Funds Trip To Palin's Hometown: "I had 'Palin Fever' but I took antibiotics which cleared it up and led to job creation and the health care, which is really the focus of this project, because we Americans, those I have talked to, are fearful and worried about jobs and health care because the food on their table is going to be shared with everyone in the town, and by golly, it just doesn't work that way in America. Oh god, it's back. I need more medicine."
- From bjonston in "I'm Anti-Chicken And Anti-Blood But I'm Pro-Fox and Friends": "Anecdote: The other day my uncle came over to visit and for some inexplicable reason he turned the channel on my kitchen TV to Fox News. So anyway, he leaves and we turn the TV off. That night, my wife and I go out to Rosa Mexicano for the birthday/goodbye dinner of a friend/houseguest who was leaving the next day. The food was awful so to compensate I proceeded to get bombed on overpriced margaritas and crappy Mexican beer. Of course by the time we get home (c. 11:00 pm) my stomach is on fire and I have a raging headache. So I down a few Zantacs, an Alka Seltzer and we go to bed. Two hours later I'm still awake so I decide to take my last Ambien. Eventually I must have fallen asleep. Anyway, the next thing I know it's like 7:00 am, I'm sitting in my PJ's, in a pool of blood in my kitchen with the TV one, the remote control in one hand, my wife's old Ginzu (sp?) chef's knife in the other, and these two fucking morons (Brian Kilmeade and Steve Doocy) blathering away in the background. When I finally realize what's going on it's because my wife is standing in the doorway, screaming at me hysterically at the top of her lungs because I've somehow managed to sleep-walk into the kitchen, turn on the TV (remember Fox News?) then slit both my wrists and stab myself in the head twice before finally waking up. My wife says I stumbled out of bed and walked into the kitchen, turned on the TV and after a minute or two, I apparently started yelling at the TV, which is why she eventually got out of bed and came over only to find me half asleep, yelling at the TV and stabbing myself. Fortunately, I missed all major arteries and didn't do any permanent damage. But that's the last time I mix Mexican food/booze with Ambien and Fox News. Fucking assholes!"
- From vaquero in Welcome Back: "O! Sheila, I know what you mean. This one time, I was sitting on the curb in front of my house eating grapes in the early evening. It was late summer. The sticky humid heat of Houston—the way that that air was tangible, I felt enclosed by it. How the sweat wouldn't run down my body, but rather cling to it. A chicken came up to me and poked around my feet. She told me that the neighbor boy had said that I found a baby bird that fell from its nest and fed it hardboiled egg yolk mixed with water from a plastic syringe. She said that this was an act against Nature. But I saved that bird's life and returned it to its parents and didn't feel bad about this and said so. The chicken cocked her head and said that the neighbor boy had also said that he watched me masturbate in the privacy of my bedroom on many occasions. I knew this could not be true because I never masturbated in my bedroom, I only did that in the pantry because I loved the smell of flour and how small and dark that space would get—it felt as if I didn't exist at the same time that my body was more real to me than it ever was. My lap was full of green grapes and the chicken ate them all. I wanted to grab them but was afraid that the chicken would peck my hands. It only occurred to me later that I should have spread my legs, let the grapes fall and then kicked the chicken to the other side of the street. I could've then gathered my grapes and rinsed them off in the kitchen sink and eaten them while watching TV. Anyway, this all led to the death of my mother later that night when she didn't bring any grapes home from the grocery store. God. The suburbs. I fucking hate them."
- Your Party Pick goes to ADismalScience in Jennifer Hudson's Family's Murder Is a Great Selling Point: "Oh god, there is nothing worse than a gun violence debate. It's like watching chickens argue with eggs in the middle of a KFC."
This has been an epic week, mostly because I feel sick and sorry for myself and my friends got married on Sunday. But you guys also made it a pretty big week, with some excellent Long Comments. We've awarded three of you for your outstanding tomes, and of course named the Party Pick for your favorite comment of the week after the jump.