HFWTFMF?!?

The Sex Was The Same, But The Dishes Were Piling Up In The Sink

Just in case anyone was wondering why Western Civilisation is so vastly superior to everything else, kindly consider that a proposed Egyptian law will permit men to have "farewell intercourse" with their wives.

So, The Lifeguard was thinking, "That sounds a little intrusive."  Why is there a need for a law that mandates a wife have sex with her husband as part of the process of saying goodbye?  

[Husband]:  "Honey, I'm going to work.  Farewell."

[Wife]:  "Okay, but don't forget to do me first."

Then, The Lifeguard read the article...

Holy fuck!  What the fuck, motherfucker?!?

A law that permits a husband to fuck his wife for up to six hours after her death?  Can we just call in an air strike now?  (The Lifeguard notes that the wife can also fuck her husband after he has died; but, how does that even work?)

This is almost too bizarre to fathom (even from a religion that promises paradise for blowing yourself up); and, The Lifeguard really wasn't sure if this was a joke.  (But, since truth is stranger than fiction, The Lifeguard thinks that it must be true.  And, that we must call in that air strike now.)  Then again, The Lifeguard supposes that this is why women are denied education (and other basic rights) in Muslim countries.

This prompted The Lifeguard to think of his Top Ten comments on the proposed law:

• 10)  Timing the Viagra becomes really important.  (The Lifeguard supposes that is why the law gives the husband six hours.)
• 9)  For at least six hours, your wife is in the mood.
• 8)  The shock of having farewell intercourse, only to find that your wife was alive, and just not that into you.  Ever.
• 7)  Trying to sneak in a quickie, and going past the six hour mark.  (Why six hours?  Why not eight?  Twenty-four?)
• 6)  An arrest for going past the six hour limit can't be much more embarrassing than fucking a dead person.
• 5)  No foreplay!
• 4)  Pillow-talk becomes extremely one-sided.
• 3)  You don't have to worry if your wife has a headache.
• 2)  No cuddling after intercourse.
• 1)  Two words:  Anal sex!

Damn Skippy!

"If Rosalynn Had Seen The Lifeguard, She'd Have Been The One With Lust In Her Heart."

More proof that The Lifeguard is the bomb.  From President Carter, no less.

Speedos!

She Should Have Had An Aborsh

The Lifeguard's legs have been tired lately.  But, only because he's been kicking so much ass.      So, in the interest of a better, more perfect America, The Lifeguard thought it was about time for another installment of the most anticipated column in the free world.  (In Islamic theocracies, The Lifeguard's most popular work comes from his ability to find pictures of kissing lesbians, but that's another story for another time.)

• Massachusetts senatorial candidate (and Harvard Law professor), Elizabeth Warren recognised The Lifeguard's...um...endowment after she ran into him at the health club.  (In defence of The Lifeguard, he had just gotten out of a very cold swimming pool.)  She noted, to Timothy Geithner, "The Lifeguard's endowment reminds me of Harvard's.  Huge."
• Professor Warren is the self-proclaimed "Mother of the Occupy Movement."  The Lifeguard is thinking that, maybe, she should have gone down to the clinic and had an aborsh.  Seriously?  That's sort of like Marie Antoinette taking credit for the French Revolution.  Not smart.  Not true.
• Does she know who the father is?  Does he pay child support?  
• Newt is getting out of the race for the Republican nomination.  He said, "I'll see you next Tuesday."  Maybe he should see if he could get a $350,000.00 a year teaching gig at Harvard (like Elizabeth Warren), then he could get a no-interest loan of the $4 million that he needs to retire his campaign debt.
• Rick Santorum lost Pennsylvania...again...last Tuesday.  To Mitt Romney.  True, Santorum was out of the hunt; but, if he were truly viable, he'd have won.  (Sort of like voting for the dead guy.)
• $11 billion to save the USPS?  Why?  It's a paragon of inefficiency, a breeding ground for waste.  The only thing that differentiates the postal service from the GSA is that the postal service delivers the mail.  Sometimes.
• Maybe the GSA could buy the USPS $11 billion worth of Chevy Volts.  (Recharged by electricity generated by wind power.)  Of course, the workers' compensation claims from burned postal workers could be a further drain on the system, so maybe not.
• Maybe Elizabeth Warren didn't need an aborsh for the child that is now the Occupy Movement.  Maybe she should have just used contraception.  
• Kids are getting sick from drinking hand sanitiser to get drunk.  What's next?  Sterno?  Maybe, just maybe, it's time to drop the drinking age from the ridiculous 21 to a more reasonable 18.
• Seven-time Cy Young Award winner, Roger Clemens goes to trial on a charge of lying to the U.S. Congress about the alleged use of performance-enhancing substances.  When will Congress be brought to trial for lying to us?  [Ed. Note:  This is a rhetorical question, for those of you with no sense of humour.]
• It's a good thing that ObamaCare provides free contraception.  We are all going to get fucked if President Obama (who is still not a Muslim) gets re-elected.
• Doesn't the fact that General Electric paid no tax on $14 billion in profit make you wonder why the United States doesn't change it's corporate tax regime?  (The highest in the OECD.)  The Lifeguard supposes that America has to be number one at something.
• President Jimmy Carter has offered praise for Mitt Romney.  Oh, Jesus, we are fucked.

All right, that's enough for now.

The Lifeguard has to go for his morning run.

Seriously...

"The Lifeguard?  About This Big."

Tim Tebow, the New York Jets phenom, was stunned when he ran into The Lifeguard in the men's room at a swanky event in the Big Apple.  He was even more shocked when asked about The Lifeguard, rather than Ashley Madison's challenge to pay $1 million to any woman who can prove that she had sex with Tebow.

The Lifeguard commends Tebow; and, notes the irony that Patriots tight end, Rob Gronkowski would "'F' Tebow to take his virginity."  (After which, presumably, there would be only one tight end left in the room.)

Damn skippy!

"Oh, About This Big."

Senator Putzhead (D-NY), was asked about The Lifeguard's most recent visit to the Senate steam room.

"I was walking past, on Ladies Day, and I heard someone gasp," Putzhead said.

Schumer remarked, "I thought someone was dying, so I opened the door and looked through the steam.  I walked in, and...you know.  Wow!  The damn thing could have put my eye out.  And, the ladies, they thought I was looking at them; but, I wasn't."  (If you've seen Senators Snow and Collins lately, you know what Ol' Putzhead is talking about.  And Senator Stabenow?  Yikes!)  

"The Lifeguard is magnificent," the senator said.

"Now, if only I can figure out a way to tax it," commented Schumer.  "It's not fair to the other 99.99%."

The New White House Chef

The New White House Chef

President and Mrs. Obama are pleased to announce the hiring of Lin Ling, the famed Asian Fusion chef from Beijing.

Here, she prepares the president a hot dog, which is one of his favourite snacks.

It wasn't The Lifeguard.

Injured In An Accident?

Proving once more that Australia is the most awesome country in the Southern Hemisphere, a woman injured while having sex (while on a business trip for her government employer) was awarded workers' compensation benefits.

After meeting a friend for dinner, they adjourned to her hotel room, where one thing led to another.  Eventually, she was being railed by her friend, and a glass light fixture came away from the wall, causing her serious permanent injury.  (The light fixture was not the only thing that came away from the wall.)

The court ruled that getting a good rogering was a lawful recreational incident, in the same vein as showering, sleeping, or playing cards.  As such, any injuries sustained while having her brains fucked out were covered by the workers' compensation statute.

Usually, the worker gets screwed on comp.  She got screwed and got comp.

Piece of Cake

The Lifeguard Is Not

Kenyan

The Lifeguard collected his bib number--25058--at the Fitness Expo.  The game was on; and, after months of training, and countless miles on the road (usually behind the wheel of his car), The Lifeguard was prepared for his inevitable success in the 116th running of the Boston Marathon.

With the weathermen forecasting unseasonably hot temperatures (and the BAA suggesting that all but the most elite athletes defer), The Lifeguard began to consider that his marathon dreams might be postponed until the 2013 edition.  Still, The Lifeguard was holding out hope for the race (in spite of 70 degree temperatures at 7:00am).

The Lifeguard arrived at the Boston Common, prepared to board the bus to Hopkinton, and the start of the marathon.  There, among the hordes of smelly bums (and coffeed-up runners), The Lifeguard ran into his muse--his inspiration--for the race.  Annie R., whom The Lifeguard had met on a flight to Boston several weeks ago, gave The Lifeguard the encouragement that he needed to lube up with BodyGlide and follow the herd of humanity into the corrals for the start of the marathon.

At this point, The Lifeguard had made two important decisions.  First, to grab a few bananas and a bottle of water for the first 5k.  Second, The Lifeguard decided that posting to facebook (during the race) would actually be pretty useful (in the event that The Lifeguard succumbed to heat or sweaty female runners).

On a hot day--the temperatures were approaching 85 at the start of the third wave--hydration was a pivotal strategy.  Consequently, The Lifeguard happily grabbed the offered water, Gatorade, and the occasional handful of ice.  Additionally, at Mile 4, The Lifeguard gratefully accepted an icy cold Coors Light (when the mountains are blue, you know it's cold), a vodka martini (shaken, not stirred, at Mile 7), and a Jell-o shot (at Mile 9).  This additional hydration served The Lifeguard well, not only for the numbing effects of the alcohol; but, for the comic value, as well.

The Lifeguard noted the frustration of being passed by a woman wearing a singlet that said, "Stroke Survivor"; and, by a man with a prosthetic limb.  The dismay as he read one Panama City License Plate after another.  The shock as a woman shit herself, then (somehow) shed her shit-filled underwear and dropped them on the course (hardly missing a stride).  [At no time, did The Lifeguard's friend, Annie shit herself.]  Men and women ducked into Porta-Johns, or the bushes, to relieve themselves.  Elite runners dropped in the heat.  The Lifeguard, however, continued his quest for excellence.  (Or, at least mediocrity.)

Along the way, The Lifeguard made some new friends--Alexis, a Coast Guard chief--kept him company for about three miles.  She was a pretty amazing woman, who was suffering the effects of the heat; but, still smiling as we trudged toward Boston.  Sadly, we were separated about Mile Jell-o shot.  (Alexis, The Lifeguard thanks you again for your service to our country.)  Then, there was Kelli, an amazing young woman (from Northeastern University), who was hanging with The Lifeguard until about Mile Holy Shit It's Hot Out Here.  Finally, there was a group of men from the Army and Coast Guard who recharged their batteries at the fountain that is The Lifeguard's awesomeness.  (Of course, The Lifeguard is especially grateful for their service, as they keep America safe and free...so that The Lifeguard can keep posting to this blog.)

The best part of the race, however, was Wellesley College, which The Lifeguard was forced to run past six or seven times.  (Wellesley women line up along the route, seeking kisses from passing runners.)  In the course of a mere 60 minutes, The Lifeguard kissed a woman from France, an astrophysics chick, an Oregonian, a Swedish woman, and about 15 other flavours.  Sadly, the threesome in the bushes was cut short by The Lifeguard's need to get back onto the course.  [Ladies, feel free to contact The Lifeguard at your earliest convenience.]

As The Lifeguard approached Heartbreak Hill, he knew that he was going to make it his bitch.  Slowing down to a more manageable pace, The Lifeguard climbed the hill, then lengthened his stride as he ran the final miles to the finish.

At Mile 24, The Lifeguard (who had had a pretty easy time of it, compared to some others) had a moment of doubt--reasons to quit the race--which was pushed from his mind in an instant.  He continued, forging ahead, to the finish.

Sure, completing the Boston Marathon in 7:08.34 is pretty awful; but, it was brutally hot, and The Lifeguard had to slow down so as to text, post, or call his legions of fans.

Oh, and if you really want to make a difference, kindly donate to The Lifeguard's charity, Massachusetts Eye and Ear Infirmary.  You may do so by going here.

The newest cabinet member...

If You Believe ObamaCare Is Good For America, You Probably Believe In The Easter Bunny. 

President Barack Hussein Obama (who shows off his non-Muslimness by posing with the Easter Bunny) is hoping that Americans will see the Individual Mandate as just another free egg left by that lovable, long-eared rodent, also known as "The Easter Bunny."

But, like eggs left in the sun for too long, ObamaCare is a stinky, rotten egg.

Asshat!

Great Shortstop

But, what an asshat.  After praising the Maximum Leader, Fidel Castro, Miami Marlins' manager, Ozzie Guillen, has had to face down criticism from Miami's Cuban community for his outrageously stupid remarks.

Guillen admires Castro?  What a dumbass.  What sort of a fuckwit makes that statement in Miami?  Oh, wait.  That would be Ozzie Guillen.

The Lifeguard would like to know what Guillen thinks about Hitler, Stalin, fags, and whether Hanley Ramirez will have a monster year.

Actually, The Lifeguard only cares about what Guillen thinks about what happens between the foul lines.  The rest?  He should just shut the fuck up.

Zzzzzzz!

Bubba!

Bagdad (Florida)-born Bubba (Watson) beats....

(That's where the alliteration ends, friends.)

Anyway, the Florida boy beats some South African to win The Masters (which President Obama was not watching because Augusta National doesn't admit women) in an exciting two-hole playoff.  

The Lifeguard, on the other hand, was not watching The Masters.  Not because he was protesting the absence of distaff members of Augusta National; but, because golf on TV is fucking stupid.

For The Lifeguard, watching golf on TV is like watching porn.  Fucking stupid.  (Now, making porn, on the other hand....)

Anyway, here is The Lifeguard's account of Bubba Watson's playoff victory (as written by Kent Babb, of The Kansas City Star).

Blah, blah, blah.  Golf clap.  Blah, blah, blah.  Bogey. Par. Birdie.  Blah, blah, blah.  Tie.  Oosthuizen. Playoff.  Blah, blah, blah.  Watson wins and wears the green jacket.

POTUS STFU!

Our Nation's Most Pressing Problem

President Barack Hussein Obama, who remains a fervent non-Muslim, has weighed in on the nation's most pressing problem.

Not the fiasco that is ObamaCare.

Not spiking gasoline prices.

Not the threat to peace in the Middle East.

Not childhood obesity.

Not whether Sandra Fluke was called a "slut"; or, that if he had a son, he'd look like Trayvon Martin.

Nope, BHO has decided to tell a private golf club that they should admit women as members.  

Coming off a week where he threatened the Supreme Court with his comments about the individual mandate, he has weighed in on the Augusta National policy that prohibits women from being members of the club.  

Oh, sure, a woman can play a round of golf at Augusta, she just can't play without an invitation from a member.  Just like every other country club in America.

But, Obama needs the vote of women, especially those that don't belong to country clubs.  And, Obama knows golf, having played more than 90 times in his just over three years in office.  (In fact, it might be one of the only things that BHO is good at, given his 17 handicap.)

And, since this type of pronouncement makes for good press (when everything else you say makes you look like a fucking idiot), President Obama charges right into the fray.

Frankly, The Lifeguard couldn't care less about the issue.  Golf on television is stupid.  It's boring.  It's painful.  It's stupid.  (Wait!  The Lifeguard just said that.)    

Sure, The Lifeguard loves golf.  (Just the other night, Nurse Dagmar was admiring The Lifeguard's driver's stiff shaft and his dimpled balls.)  And, The Lifeguard would give just about anything to play a round at Augusta.  However, it's just not something that the president should be involved with.  (Especially if he ever wants to play at Augusta National.)  If women are so exercised about membership in a club that they will never be members of, then let them scream about it.  But, the president should simply shut the fuck up.

[Note:  If anyone wants to invite The Lifeguard to play Augusta, please feel free to contact me.  Or, if the 2010 DePauw University women's golf team would like to play around with The Lifeguard, they should definitely call.]

The 8th Amendment...

A Detailed Analysis Of The SCOTUS Hearing On OBAMACARE...

...is coming soon.  Once The Lifeguard wades through the transcripts, the healthcare legislation, and the hot tub (where he and Nurse Dagmar are diligently examining the effects of Dom Perignon on the review of SCOTUS transcripts and the 2,700 page OBAMACare bill).

Now, if Nurse Dagmar will open another bottle of champers, we can get on with this project.

Sigh...

Will You Please Shut The Fuck Up!

(And Take Off That Stupid Hat!)

Last week, as the calls for George Zimmerman's scalp grew louder (but before the New Black Panther Party slapped a $10,000.00 bounty on his half-Hispanic head), The Lifeguard was asked for his thoughts on the miscarriage of justice taking place in Sanford, Florida.  

Now, as a former Floridian (The Lifeguard left to get away from all of the damn Yankees, who were moving down south in droves, like rats abandoning the high-tax Titanic that is New England), and witness to the devastation of race riots, The Lifeguard had some thoughts on the subject.  (Come to think of it, The Lifeguard has some thoughts on every subject.)

However, since The Lifeguard was otherwise occupied, this post is coming well after the bloom is off the rose that is Trayvon Martin.  And, frankly, The Lifeguard thinks that the real "miscarriage of justice" arises because of all of the race-baiting hucksters looking to get their fame ticket punched for another fifteen minutes of face time.

The Lifeguard's first thought on hearing the 911 tape ("He looks like he's on drugs") was, "The kid was probably on drugs, jonesin' for some junk food."  (Iced tea and Skittles would not have been The Lifeguard's choice.)  It turns out that The Lifeguard (and George Zimmerman) might just have been correct, as Trayvon had been suspended from school for possession of a marijuana pipe and a baggie with some pot residue.

Then, The Lifeguard asked, "Who the fuck gives a kid a name like 'Trayvon'?"  "Seriously?  It's a tragedy that a 17 year old might have been accidentally shot; but, "Trayvon"?  As a parent, you are asking for bad shit to happen to your little bundle of joy.  (Also bad:  DaSean, Nushawn, DeTroyt, Taqueisha, and Shaniqua. The Lifeguard gives Shaquille O'Neal, Anfernee Hardaway, and Benjarvus Green-Ellis (to name three) passes for succeeding in spite of their made-up names.)

And finally, as for profiling, The Lifeguard doesn't understand the problem.  That shit works.  (There was a day when "profiling" was called "good police work."). The Lifeguard has been profiled.  (Young male + expensive European sedan + Miami at 2:00am = "License and registration, please.")  Seriously, if you want to avoid problems with the police/Neighbourhood Watch-types, don't look/act like the majority of criminals with whom they interact.    (Hoodie=Hoodlum?)  Especially if you are a visiting a gated community.  And, don't jump on someone--it appears that Trayvon engaged first--in Florida, because that cat might just be packin' heat.

The Lifeguard:  "Let me tell you how that shit went down. Zimmerman called 911, followed the stranger, then got jumped. Once he was attacked, it was kill-or-be-killed for Zim."

Other Person:  "Racist. You don't know.  You weren't there."

The Lifeguard:  "No, but The Lifeguard was 17, once."

Other Person:  "So?"

The Lifeguard:  "So, the kid--full of piss and vinegar--probably said, 'Whatchoo doin' followin' me?  I finna kick yo' cracker ass.'  Then, he took a swing at him.  The injuries support the claim that the ZimmerMan was getting his ass kicked."

OP:  "You weren't there."

TL:  "No, but The Lifeguard bets he is pretty close."

And, he was.

Drill, baby, drill.

So Does The Lifeguard

Offshore.

Onshore.

Wherever.

It won't change the price of a gallon of gas; but, who cares?

(In other words, The Lifeguard would fluke her.)

The good old days...

Okay

The last few times The Lifeguard has flown, he has found that the male flight attendants look more like Cheryl than the female ones.  (And, as y'all know, The Lifeguard doesn't play for that team.)

Oh, for the good old days, when flight attendants--while professional--were also something to look at.  Not the collection of "...gays, grannies, and grandes..." that work the not so friendly skies.  

And, based upon the body composition of about 80% of the female flight attendants that The Lifeguard has encountered on his last few trips, there is some question as to whether or not they could squeeze through an emergency exit, let alone get down the aisle.

Frankly, The Lifeguard does not understand the elimination of weight restrictions of flight attendants.  The Lifeguard can't play in the NFL (too old, too small), the NBA (too short), or the MLB (can't hit a curve to save his life). These are all occupations that require fitness and strength, so why not in an occupation where lives might be put in jeopardy when a flight attendant is too old, too fat (or both) to perform her (or his) job functions in an emergency.

But, since The Lifeguard doesn't make the hiring decisions at Crash Landia; and, since The Lifeguard can get out of the over-wing exit door, he supposes that he'll just have to take what he can get.  (Which, twenty years ago, was Cheryl...in the lav...right after take-off.)

Also, a tool.

Spreading Santorum

The former Pennsylvania senator says that Obama is preferable to Romney.

And you thought that Newt Gingrich was a fool.

What a tool...

The Audacity of the Dope

When it comes to the most transparent administration in history, one thing is glaringly obvious:  This guy is a douche.  (He's still not a Muslim; but, he's a world-class douche.)

You want health care?  We've got your health care...for a couple hundred billion dollars more than we told you when we were trying to sell you the plan.  (But, what's a hundred billion among friends?)  Praise the lord!  We have universal care!  Insurance costs more, but everyone has it.  Yay!

Oh, and think of all of the money we'll save when we start giving women free contraception and aborting unborn children.  (And, since many of those aborted children may have had special needs, the nation is saving real money.)

Energy costs too high?  Don't like $5.00 a gallon gas?  Well, shut the fuck up.  Gas costs $9.00 a gallon in Germany.  Plus, this administration has authorised more drilling than all other administrations combined.  And, has permitted the construction of enough pipeline to encircle the world.  (He won't let one cross the US/Canada border; but, he's all over the rest of the pipelines.)  Solyndra? Not his fault.  It was those pesky Chinese (and Republicans) that caused Solyndra (and all of the other alternative energy companies) to shit the bed. 

Sure, America is producing more petroleum products than ever before; but, we are doing it with diminished refining capacity (with no new refineries on the horizon) and an infrastructure that is severely overtaxed.  Ethanol in fuel (instead of the dreaded MTBE) is a sop to agribusiness, and yields little more than higher food prices (since there is less corn for food production).  Maybe Congress could ditch tariffs on ethanol (so we could import cheaper Brazilian ethanol)?  Maybe methanol?  (Cars can run on methanol.)

If everyone would just buy a fucking Volt, then the high cost of gassing up at the pump would be a memory.  (Unfortunately, the people who can afford a Volt don't mind dropping a C-note to fill their cars with petrol.)

President Obama has burned bridges with our allies (e.g., Israel and Britain) and has built "bridges to nowhere" with others (e.g., Egypt, Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, North Korea, and Syria).

The only thing that The Lifeguard can get behind with this administration is that President Obama plays a lot of golf.  Of course, it's easy for him since he is:  a) The leader of the free world; and, b) his wife is always on holiday.

That fucking Chevy Volt is hot!

Mahmoud's New Car

The 2012 Chevy Volt is catching fire among the key 18-25 year old Syrian demographic.

Leather seats, a powerful entertainment system, and rat poison-covered ball bearings come standard.

(And for some reason, they don't seem to care that, without warning, they often burst into flame.)

Beating that dead horse...to death.

A slut sleeps with everybody, a cunt sleeps with everybody but you.

Probably explains Bill Maher's frustration.

The Lifeguard wonders...

...If This Will Become The Second Most Downloaded Photo By People In A Theocracy

The Lifeguard has noticed that the single most popular post in this blog is one that has a picture of girls kissing.  (Interestingly, there are a surprising number of visitors to this post from the Islamic Republic of Iran.)

So, The Lifeguard decided he'd do something charitable for the folks living in that part of the world.  (You know the part of the world that stones people for the kind of activity shown above.  The part that treats women like second-class citizens.  The part that believes that women must be covered from head-to-toe.)

Iran, this butt's for you.

HFWTFMF?!?

Travel Sucks Already

The Lifeguard went to Florida to do a little business in his former hometown, Tampa.  This involved air travel, and a visit to the friendly TSA agents manning airport security.  Truthfully, if things keep up this way, air travel will become only marginally better than prison rape.  (Actually, the only difference between air travel and prison rape is that you choose air travel.)

So, after getting to the airport and checking in, The Lifeguard emptied his pockets, removed his belt and shoes, pulled out his laptop (from the buttery leather attache) and placed it in the Rubbermaid tray, fished out his driving licence, secured his boarding pass, checked his pockets for any pieces of paper that might remain (seriously, the millimetre wave scanners require everything--including a dollar bill--be removed from your pockets), and approached the scanner.

At this point, The Lifeguard noted that all women were being diverted from the Whole Body Scanner to a conventional metal detector.  All women.  

Why would the TSA do this?  Are they treating women differently?  Are there radiation fears?  Does the TSA think that women don't blow up shit?  (Or, have there been so many complaints about the images finding their way onto the internet that the TSA decided to send women through a different screening process?)  

The Lifeguard asked for the same courtesy, but was told that the selection process was random.  (So random that every woman was selected for one type of scanner and every man was selected for the other?)   

Finally, through security, The Lifeguard reached the gate--and his ride--and settled in for the flight south.  (The Lifeguard had a row all to himself.)  Of course, all of the room in the world does not make up for the fact that the flight attendant's ass was wider than the beverage cart (and almost as long).  Every time--every time--the flight attendant went down the aisle, her ass smacked The Lifeguard's arm.  (The upside, however, was that The Lifeguard had a place to put his coffee.)  

Seriously, the flight attendant's ass was so big that when she sat down, she was three feet taller.

She was so fat, the other flight attendants were orbiting her.

She was so fat that when we were number one for take-off, she was number two.

The Lifeguard wonders why a woman--who most certainly couldn't fit through a wing exit--can have a job as a flight attendant.  One would think that the safety of those on an airplane outweighs (heh heh, "outweighs") the feelings of one overweight woman.  It sort of made The Lifeguard long for the days when flight attendants had to make weight to fly.  

The Lifeguard had a few other observations about his travel experience.  (You can't wait to read them, can you?)

• In Atlanta, the airplane had a flat tire.  (The pilot called AAA.)  We could feel the plane being jacked up to permit the pit crew to change the tire.  It was actually kind of cool.
• The ATL-TPA segment was uneventful and pleasant, save for the father who left his son to yammer away while he played video games on his phone (sans headphones).  Seriously, if you don't have the sense to keep your child quiet (or try), don't fly.  (Certainly not when The Lifeguard is on the plane.)  The Lifeguard does not understand why the flight attendants don't address this nonsense.
• The Lifeguard is convinced that for every fit and attractive female flight attendant, there are at least five that might be a threat to the safety of the passengers.
• When The Lifeguard sits in an exit row, the other passengers have nothing to fear in the event of an emergency.  Not only will The Lifeguard open the emergency exit, he'll help everyone out of the plane (from outside of the plane).
• The $25.00 per bag charge may be revenue gold for the airlines; but, a complete pain in the ass for anyone who travels by air.  There is no need for you to bring 100 pounds of shit on the plane, then try to lift it into the overhead bin.  In fact, a good rule of thumb is that if you can't lift it, don't bring it.  (This would save millions in workers' compensation claims and medical bills.)
• The Lifeguard has never seen such a small bag of pretzels in his life.  With peanut-sized pretzels, no less.
• $6.00 for a beer?  Maybe in a club, in Boston; but, not in an aluminum tube.  Service is shitty enough, so throw us a bone.  In fact, free beer might just change the mood of the traveling public.  (And, most certainly of The Lifeguard.)
• There is no better airport than Tampa's.  And, it's been that way for 25 years.
• The JetBlue flight back to Boston was great.  The aircrew was great, too.  (In case they are reading this, thanks K, J, and C.)
• A woman on the TPA-BOS flight started talking to The Lifeguard.  The Lifeguard said, "Did you have a good time in Tampa?"  She said, "How did you know I was in Tampa?"  The Lifeguard replied, "I'm psychic."

It's good to be home, y'all.

Keep the faith!

Huh?

"I Need Me Some Cheesy Grits, Fried Catfish, And Hushpuppies To Go With This Chicken."

When Mitt Romney said this, every Southerner in America had their heart skip a beat.  (And not from all of the cholesterol and fatty foods that every Southerner in America has eaten.)

It's statements like this that cause Southern folk to hate Yankees.

In fact, The Lifeguard is reminded of the joke about the difference between a Yankee and a damn Yankee.

(The Yankee goes home after his vacation is over.  The damn Yankee buys a house.  And runs for president.)

It's over, Johnny.

The Southern Strategy

Today, voters in Alabama and Mississippi go to the polls to cast their vote for the Republican challenger best suited to defeat President Obama in November.  The front-runner, Governor Mitt Romney ("I was for catfish and grits before I was against them, but after I had them, I was for them again.") hopes to deliver a knockout blow to Newt and former Pennsylvania senator, Rick Santorum.  Oh, and Congressman Ron Paul.  Beating him, too.

It may be that the South does get behind Mitt, having bought the hype that he is the front-runner, the anointed Republican.  (It also may be that Mitt comes off as just another carpetbagging Yankee who will say anything to get elected.)

Of course, the big knock on Mittens is that he is rich and out of touch with the common man.  (Not that President Obama is all that in touch with the common man...unless he works for Solyndra, was a Black Panther, or a member of a public sector union.)  But, then again, he is rich and out of touch with the common man.  (How else to explain his love of catfish and cheesy grits.)

The story is developing, and The Lifeguard will be here, with analysis, commentary, and thoughts about the two University of Alabama coeds who are working on The Lifeguard's staff.

Isn't it ironic?

Rhymes With Truck

The Lifeguard had no idea...none...that that was how her name was pronounced.  Seriously.  What are the chances?

In other news, assuming that Ms. Fluke did spend $3,000.00 on birth control (e.g., condoms) over three years in law school, that would equate to her having sex approximately 5.5 times per day for three years.  That's 38 times per week.  165 times per month.

That's approaching what The Lifeguard believes to be a normal sexual diet.

So, Sandra, The Lifeguard says, "Respect."

Speedos!

Super Tuesday!

The Lifeguard can't wait to parse the results of today's Republican primaries.  The Lifeguard's prediction?  There will be as much confusion tomorrow (before The Lifeguard parses) as there is today.  But, when The Lifeguard is finished, you'll know everything.

In the meantime, chew on this delectable menu of tasty intellectual delights.

• The Lifeguard was enabling a friend last night.  Not enabling in the traditional sense; but, rather, helping said friend avoid work on a dissertation.  As a result, The Lifeguard was able to create a new and exciting word for just these occasions.  Procrassertation.  It means the act of studiously avoiding the completion of one's Ph.D. dissertation.  
• Leaked Stratfor e-mails indicate that the body of Osama bin Laden was not buried at sea.  Perhaps President Obama (who is still not a Muslim) should have released those "photographs" of the room temperature bin Laden, sliding down the board, into the sea.  The Lifeguard predicts that this will overshadow arguments about whether or not BHO was actually born in Hawaii.
• The price of gasoline goes up...again.  While it is true that we are not yet at European levels, The Lifeguard still hates the fact that it costs almost a C-note to fill the Swedish Ford with gas.  The Lifeguard has plans that would help reduce the price of gas, and it doesn't involve electric cars, wind turbines, or fluorescent light bulbs.  It does involve more drilling, more pipelines, more nuclear power plants, and more refinery capacity.  
• It is interesting to note that North America could surpass Qatar as the world's leading exporter of liquified natural gas (LNG).  In order to do this, America needs more pipelines.  (More pipelines=more high-paying union jobs.)  In case you were wondering, more than 100 million cubic feet of natural gas is burned off in the North Dakota oil fields.  If only there were a way to capture this wasted gas.  Oh, wait!  If there were more pipelines, then there would be more natural gas to liquify and export.
• The Chevy Volt (a/k/a the Opel Ampera) was just named the European Car of the Year.  Maybe the General could export some of those bad boys to Europe.  (Or, as The Lifeguard has suggested, to prospective suicide bombers in the Middle East.  "Look ma!  No bombs!  Just this Chevy Volt that occasionally bursts into flame.")
• For those senior citizens struggling on a fixed income, who can't find greeter work at Wal-Mart, there is a new AARP-endorsed business opportunity.  "Cooking meth is a great way for retired chemical engineers to make a few extra bucks," an AARP spokesman noted.  "Plus, in a nursing home, all of the constituent parts are readily available," he said.  The elderly have joined college students in this lucrative endeavour.  The added bonus is that the elderly will have money to buy Viagra, and the college students will have money to buy birth control.  
• In Kansas City, lack teens set a white teen on fire.  Using gasoline.  The Lifeguard wonders where they got the money to buy $4.00 a gallon gas.  

Time to go to work...and vote.

Speedos!

The Lifeguard Knows

Why Contraception

Is An Issue In 2012

It's an election year.

And, we're all going to get fucked.

Hard.

It's a fluke, right?

A Slut Sleeps With Everyone.

The Lifeguard doesn't understand the tempest in the teapot surrounding Rush Limbaugh's comments about 30 year old Georgetown 3L, Sandra Fluke.  

She inserted herself into the debate over contraception--which has nothing to do with health care--and made herself a public figure.  Limbaugh made a joke, then backed down when the outcry became so great as to threaten his advertising income.  Ever the businessman and entertainer, Limbaugh retreated and apologised.

Oh, one last thought.  Why is it that all of the contraceptive crusaders are women that The Lifeguard wouldn't fuck...on a bet?  

The Lifeguard say...

Burqas Okay!

But only if the women look like An-Sofie Dewinter.

Only in New England.

Astounding!

Another winter storm, more griping and complaining about the weather.

Not only was there a run on the supermarket following the news of the impending storm, there was a complete over-reaction by the store's patrons as they stripped the shelves bare, carting away milk, bread and other treats.  It so much more indicative of the Zombie Apocalypse than 6" of snow as to be funny.

The Lifeguard reminds these folks, surprised at the falling snow, to breathe, look at a map (see where New England is in relation to, say, Florida), then slap yourself silly. (The Lifeguard would do it, but he can't get to everyone.)

Every time there is a storm, The Lifeguard imagines the orgy where all of these dopes had their brains fucked out. (There can be no other explanation for the snow-fueled panic in the stores and on the roads.)

As for school--which was canceled over much of the Boston area--The Lifeguard wonders how kids will adapt to the working world if school is canceled every time someone says the word "snow."

The Lifeguard never got a snow day.  (Of course, The Lifeguard spent much of his youth in Florida; but, still....)