The DMN has obtained a copy of a fundraising letter sent out by KBH, who has taken the initial steps toward her 2010 gubernatorial run by forming an “exploratory committee” and getting all gubernatorial on us.

Dear /Salutation/,

Our state can do better. Faced with uncertain times, Texas must have leaders who look forward. We must start now to bring bold, innovative leadership to Austin. Ten years of one man in the Governor’s office has left challenges unanswered, too little trust and consensus, and too much infighting. This tone comes from the top and we  can do something about it.

Kay’s first mistake is addressing her supporters as “Salutation.” She comes off as cold and aloof. However, as someone who can barely remember the names of people I’ve met 23 times, I may start addressing people as “Salutation” instead of “Hey, you, with the fat ass.”

And that’s why I need your help. Together, we can change Austin and make the future brighter for the great state we’re blessed to call home. /Salutation/, will you join my exploratory committee as a charter member? And, if you can, will you help me build a strong statewide team with your generous gift of $SLG1 or $SLG+1 today? If you say “yes” today, you’ll be one of the first Texans to serve on my /County Name/ County Exploratory Committee.

I, for one, am ready to donate $SLG+1. Put me down as Salutation from County Name.

Some people have a problem with drinking on Sundays. (Other people have a drinking problem on Sundays. I’m looking at all of you.) Sunday is the Day of the Lord and everyone knows that the Lord frowns upon drinking except during the Wedding at Canaan when He not only threw back a few but made sure the cup kept runneth-ing over for all the guests. Talk about a Savior.

I find it appalling—nay, inexcusable—that you can’t purchase beer and wine before noon on Sundays in Texas. Believe me, I’ve tried. One time I attempted to hide a bottle of chardonnay in a bag of fair trade Colombian coffee beans. But mostly I just sit in the checkout line for 30 minutes sighing audibly and rolling my eyes while waiting for the clock to strike 12. And if you’re dreaming of having a screwdriver to accompany This Week with George Stephanopoulos, you should know that liquor stores are closed on Sundays.

So you can imagine my delight upon discovering that probable Speaker Joe Straus (I have stopped thinking of “Straus” in a German accent because someone accused me of being Lili von Shtupp) is a fan of loosening up archaic alcohol restrictions, as evidenced by past legislation he has supported, including consuming alcohol during festivals and concerts on Sunday mornings, and making it easier to sell alcohol without “community approval.” (Like I need your stinking community approval.)

Of course, these were two pretty general laws supported by a majority of legislators. But at least now I’m encouraged by the new leadership and hope that my ongoing mission to protect employees from discrimination for drinking underneath their desks will, at long last, receive the recognition it deserves.

Over the weekend, Gov. Bill Richardson withdrew from the nomination for Commerce Secretary, either due to an ongoing federal investigation or, judging from this Politico headline, something far more painful.

Yet the big news Monday was Obama’s pick to head the CIA: former Clinton chief of staff Leon Panetta. Apparently Obama forgot to tell the incoming chair of the Senate Intelligence Committee, Sen. Dianne Feinstein, before announcing his choice. Snubbable.

According to Feinstein’s statement, “I was not informed about the selection of Leon Panetta to be the CIA Director. I know nothing about this, other than what I’ve read. My position has consistently been that I believe the Agency is best-served by having an intelligence professional in charge at this time.”

Intelligence professional? You mean, like Homeland Security Secretary Janet Napolitano? We’ll be lucky if we’re not invaded by Israel later this year.

In other news, Congress returns to the Hill today so they can approve some more billion dollar loans. Senate appointees Roland Burris and Al Franken, however, will not be seated. I realize that Majority Leader Harry Reid and the Senate Democrats intend to fight the Burris nomination but, seriously? On what grounds? Blago is still the governor, and therefore responsible for appointing Obama’s replacement. Good luck with that.

Burris was even DENIED ENTRY this morning to the Senate floor as he tried to claim his seat. How’s that for a big f—k you?

When I first started blogging in 2005, the Texans for a Republican Majority PAC was being sued for using corporate money to elect more Republicans to the House. I actually went down to the Travis County courthouse to listen in because I wasn’t “working” so much as “using my blog as an excuse to sit on my ass.” I remember Speaker Craddick not showing up in court after claiming that he couldn’t remember whether he had shredded some incriminating documents. I don’t know about you, but if I had specifically shredded certain documents that I thought might incriminate me—like ripped them up and lit them on fire and threw the ashes into Town Lake in the middle of the night—I think I would have remembered. That day I thought to myself, this is a guy to watch.

And watch I did. For three long and painful years.

Of course, I knew of Craddick before 2005. When he defeated Pete Laney for Speaker in 2003, I was leaving the Legislature. (Incidentally, Rep. Talmadge Heflin was the incoming chair of Appropriations, and I was deathly afraid that he would pass a rider requiring all the committee staffers to GET IN HIS BELLY.) And thank God I left when I did, considering the 10,000 special sessions on school finance and the redistricting map to end all redistricting maps.

Back to TRMPAC. In September 2005, Craddick escaped indictment despite the fact that he “passed along” a $100,000 check to TRMPAC from some nursing home business. A nursing home? Who steals from a nursing home besides that dad in Say Anything? Nothing was more important to Craddick than maintaining a Republican Majority. Except maybe his million-dollar renovations bankrolled by lobbyists to the Speaker’s apartment.

But the Speaker did have his lighter side, as evidenced in this photo sent to me anonymously. If you’ve ever been a bridesmaid, you know how the photographer will urge you to do a “crazy pic”? And you stare at them blankly and do something stupid like giving the girl next to you the old rabbit ears? Yeah. Kind of like that.

However, I will always have a special place in my heart for Craddick, as he was the one who inspired the first of way too many When Harry Met Sally vignettes.

Dewhurst: There are two kinds of Speakers: high maintenance and low maintenance.
Craddick: And Speaker Pete Laney was low maintenance?
Dewhurst: An L.M. Definitely.
Craddick: Which one am I?
Dewhurst: You’re the worst kind. You’re high maintenance, but you think you’re low maintenance.
Craddick: I don’t see that.
Dewhurst: You don’t see that? (He mimics Craddick’s typical House rulings.) ‘Rep. Thompson, your point of order is respectfully overruled.’ ‘Rep. Dunnam, for what purpose?’ ‘Show the Chair voting aye.’ ‘Show the Chair voting aye’ is a very big thing for you.
Craddick: Well, I just want it the way I want it.
Dewhurst: I know, high maintenance.

I find myself lapsing into a German accent when I say “Speaker Straus,” as in “Speaker von Straus,” which makes me think of Claus von Bülow, although I’m fairly certain that Straus has never put someone in a coma. Just wait until session. OMG!

So who is Speaker Josef von Straus? Well, he’s a two-term moderate Republican, which in Texas means he’s conservative as opposed to über-conservative, from San Antonio. He’s a Vanderbilt grad (obviously he didn’t get into Wake Forest) who worked in both the Reagan and Bush, Sr. administrations. He’s reportedly well-liked by his fellow legislators. He’s a wealthy businessman, as well as a proponent of gambling.

Oh mein Gott! Laut herauslachen! Finally, an Edel-vice!

Could this be one of the reasons that more conservative Republicans were supporting John Smithee (no relation) for Speaker? The von Straus family has long been part of the horse racing business, and Straus holds a stake in the Retama Park horse racing track. Now we all know how social conservatives feel about gambling. It is almost as immoral as idolatry. It is the playground of hedonism. It is the Work of the Satan.

I don’t care much about the ethics of gambling myself. I’ve been to Vegas and lost my money at the blackjack table in 10 seconds flat but continued to sit there for the free drinks until the dealer told me to take my broke ass home. If video lottery terminals can raise some state revenue in a time of dire economic straits, home foreclosures, and an explosion in selling kidneys for Target gift cards, go for it. (Apparently, some of Paul Burka’s commenters are strongly opposed. Of course, they’re opposed to most things, especially Paul Burka.)

Me? I’m just happy we won’t have a goddam teetotaler for Speaker anymore. Bring back the days of milk and honey!

So I get an email from a Democratic source (notice I didn’t say trusted—I trust no one) around 5PM today saying that Rep. Joe Straus was getting ready to release at least 80 names for speaker. Of course, who’s home on a chilly Sunday afternoon besides, obviously, Burka? I was at Arbor watching “The Reader” because there’s really nothing like kicking off your week with a cheery romantic comedy about a 15-year-old boy seduced and abused by an older Nazi guard who psychologically scars him so much that he ends up looking like Ralph Fiennes later in life.

The latest headline? Joe Straus, Republican from San Antonio, has unseated Tom Craddick for Speaker. Bolded for dramatic effect. Here are the names, courtesy of Texas Weekly and the untrusty source who emailed them to me. (Like I can afford a subscription. Ross, help a sister out.) Straus needed at least 76 names but he released 85. As if to say, you know, BAM.

Alma Allen
Roberto Alonzo
Carol Alvarado
Rafael Anchia
Valinda Bolton
Dan Branch
Lon Burnam
Joaquin Castro
Norma Chavez
Ellen Cohen
Garnet Coleman
Byron Cook
Yvonne Davis
Joe Deshotel
Dawnna Dukes
Jim Dunnam
Craig Eiland
Rob Eissler
Gary Elkins
Kirk England
Joe Farias
David Farabee
Jessica Farrar
Kino Flores
Stephen Frost
Pete Gallego
Charlie Geren
Helen Giddings
Veronica Gonzalez
Yvonne Gonzalez Toureilles
Roland Gutierrez
Joe Heflin
Ana Hernandez
Abel Herrero
Scott Hochberg
Terri Hodge
Mark Homer
Chuck Hopson
Donna Howard
Delwin Jones
Jim Keffer
Carol Kent
Tracy King
Edmund Kuempel
David Leibowitz
Eddie Lucio
Diana Maldonado
Barbara Mallory Caraway
Marisa Marquez
Armando Martinez
Trey Martinez Fischer
Brian McCall
Ruth Jones McClendon
Jim McReynolds
Jose Menendez
Tommy Merritt
Robert Miklos
Doug Miller
Joe Moody
Elliott Naishtat
Rene Oliveira
Dora Olivo
Solomon Ortiz
Aaron Pena
Joe Pickett
Paula Pierson
Jim Pitts
Chente Quintanilla
Richard Raymond
Tara Rios Ybarra
Allan Ritter
Eddie Rodriguez
Patrick Rose
Todd Smith
Burt Solomons
Mark Strama
Joe Straus
Kristi Thibaut
Senfronia Thompson
Chris Turner
Allen Vaught
Marc Veasey
Mike Villarreal
Hubert Vo
Armando Walle

I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know “much” about the “Speaker’s race,” but since the session is almost upon us, it’s time for me to start at least pretending I know something. This can be accomplished by nodding your head and looking pensive when someone mentions the race and saying, yeah, I heard that. Now get out of my office, Burka.

Luckily, there was a “Rocky” marathon on A&E yesterday so I have something to compare it to. (For those of you who are new to In the Pink, my affinity for all things boxing and especially boxing movies is well documented in the archives here and here. For those of you who are more interested in what I wrote about the last Speaker’s race, you can go here and here.)

Anyway, back to Rocky. (By the way, did anyone even watch Rocky V? What the f—k was that?) Rocky is the ultimate underdog who keeps coming back, mostly to a riveting soundtrack from Survivor. Even when he’s on top, like after Rocky II and the rematch with Apollo, he loses the Eye of the Tiger. It’s like he’s not a real fighter, especially after Mick dies. He doesn’t want it bad enough. Which brings me to Craddick. It’s like he’s facing Mr. T but he doesn’t have that look in his eye anymore. And the problem there is, he’s not being cheered on by throngs of adoring crowds and loyal fans. He’s not training in Russia during the Cold War to fight Ivan Drago. Will Hartnett is no Adrienne.

And Craddick is no Rock. BUT, cautionary tale: the Rock came back in “Rocky Balboa.” I believe I was the only person in the world who actually saw this in the theater.

The ABC’s (Anyone But Craddick’s, what on earth will the rebellion call themselves in a post-Craddick era?) are scheduled to meet this evening, as are the House D’s (most likely at an Ardmore Holiday Inn). Unfortunately, I will be at a rehearsal dinner for a wedding tomorrow so I’ll be unable to do my usual stakeout. Please let me know if you’re free. (Also, I’ll be busy trying to squeeze into my wedding gown so as not to be shown up by the bride.)

Before the House convened in January 2007 and Jim Pitts was challenging Craddick, I imagined a conversation between the Speaker and his press secretary Alexis DeLee. And, as usual, when I’m imagining conversations, I can only imagine them in When Harry Met Sally lingo. It’s a sickness.

Here it is, in full after the jump.

(more…)

OH MY GOD, is it New Year’s Eve already?? The last day of the year always tends to sneak up on me, and I start panicking, realizing that I haven’t made up any New Year’s resolutions for family and friends. This has become a tradition for me, given that I’d much rather tell others what they need to do/not do, and, quite honestly, I find little to improve about myself. I’m constantly amazed that they do not appreciate this loving gesture on my part, and typically tell me to stick my resolutions up my ass. Really far.

So, in the interest of time, I will write instead about the top news items of 2008. You are welcome to submit your own, although I must warn you, I’ll still think mine are better.

THE ECONOMY: If you haven’t noticed, you have a lot less money than you used to have. This has dramatically increased the diagnoses of “drunkorexia” as Americans realize that Bernard Madoff had the right idea. However, it’s been reported that red wine slows the aging process (see: The Curious Case of Benjamin Blogger). Government bailouts. The Big Three. Would have been completely intolerable if not for Erin Burnett.

THE ELECTION: The Primaries. The Grieving Process. The Conventions. The Next President of the United States. Eclipsed only by the Next Secretary of State. (OMG! LOL! Somebody make me a Secretary of State sandwich!) Not to mention the Newly Elected Senator from Virginia, Mark Warner. My father voting for a Democrat. Sarah Who? Something about lipstick. Also.

THE SEX: Rielle Hunter and John Edwards and the Bastard Out of Carolina. “Love Lips.” (Insert dry heave here.) Spitzer Swallows.  Eliot Spitzer and his International House of Prostitutes.

THE KICKER: Rod F—king Blagojevich.

I wish you all a happy new year. I will be celebrating at Smooch’s house, and she has promised me that she will dress the twins up as Baby New Years, clad only in diapers and top hats. That’s so, you know, funny because that’s what I’m wearing.

Someone just forwarded me this letter from Jim Dunnam to his fellow Texas House Democrats (although the subject line is “A Message from Eddie Rodriguez”). And I was like, you know, who’s Jim Dunnam and what is this “speaker’s race” you speak of? I’m puzzled by the “In Unity” closing because it makes the D’s sound like The Benevolent & Protective Order of Elks where they are addressed as Esteemed Loyal Knight and Grand Exalted Ruler.

Colleagues,

Tom Craddick has admitted he doesn’t have the votes to remain Speaker of the Texas House. In comments to reporters, his chief ally, Rep. Will Hartnett, said Craddick’s count is 70. Most observers acknowledge that he doesn’t have anywhere near even that number of supporters. Regardless, there is now a public admission that he has failed in his effort at re-election. At the same time, public comments from new House leadership alliances indicates there are 79 publicly announced votes against Craddick. The Craddick era is over.

The question is now:  how will the new House of Representatives operate? With openness, fairness and the absolute rejection of Craddick’s infamous “absolute power” style? With respect and regard for all Texas voters and the representatives they have chosen to speak for them in Austin? We believe that is the consensus among both Republicans and Democrats who are now responsibly deliberating over what the new House looks like and how it operates.

Craddick should withdraw. Instead, he argues weakly that he has the votes because he has the votes. Or that he’s not yet beaten because he’s not yet beaten. Of course, that remains technically true until the House elects its new Speaker in January. But it’s hardly a convincing argument.

I applaud my colleagues on both sides of the aisle for their cool-headed, responsible and open, democratic approach to selecting its new leadership. Craddick may want to mischaracterize his opposition’s deliberations. But then, he never did understand how democracy works.

In Unity,

Eddie Rodriguez

NPR is reporting that Gov. Blagojevich will appoint former IL Attorney General Roland Burris to Obama’s vacated Senate seat. This could be…awkward. Majority Leader for No Apparent Reason Harry Reid has said that the Senate will reject anyone appointed by the governor. My guess? Burris is the next junior senator from Illinois.

I’ll be the first to admit it’s a slow news week. How slow is it? It’s so slow that Burka’s only put up two posts today on the Speaker’s race instead of his usual 27. It’s so slow that Evan has only come by once to tell me I contribute nothing to Texas Monthly. It’s so slow that the governor’s office is sending me press releases.

But is it so painfully slow that I would sit here at my desk counting the number of times Caroline Kennedy said “you know” during her NYT interview? According to Ben Smith of Politico, she said it 138 times.

A few excerpts:

I think in many ways, you know, we want to have all kinds of different voices, you know, representing us, and I think what I bring to it is, you know, my experience as a mother, as a woman, as a lawyer, you know, I’ve been an education activist for the last six years here, and, you know, I’ve written seven books.

I think this is about the future, and, um, you know, that’s what I want to talk about, which is, what’s going on in our state, you know, why I would be the best person to help deliver for New York. We’re facing, you know, an economic crisis, the paper this morning said there’s, you know, five billion dollars of construction projects which just stopped, you know, that’s, you know…

I have really a wonderful life, and but, I feel like, you know, it’s, you know, it’s not really complete if there are things you could be doing that would benefit others and you’re not taking, you know, the time and making the effort to do that. So, um, so I think it’s really the, you know, it would be a big change, and change can be, you know, traumatic.

Now, you know, it’s not like, you know, we don’t all, you know, have, you know, key phrases that, you know, we pepper our, you know, conversations with. (By my count, she also uttered the phrase “I mean” 20 times, and “you cocks—kers” 15 times.) If you take a look at the full transcript, she does sound, how do I put this, slightly Palin-esque in her responses—how unprepared she is, how she doesn’t want to answer certain questions, her somewhat curt replies, her inexplicable Alaskan accent.

But my favorite part has got to be how the interview ends.

NYT: I think we’re done.  Thank you very much for your time.

Kennedy: Thank you.

NYT: If I can just throw one more question out there —

Kennedy: I think we’re done.

Good day, Sir! (Pause) I said, Good day!

I pumped my own gas this morning (good help is so hard to find these days) and marveled once again at the low gas prices. It was only $20 to fill up my Honda so I guess it’s time to ramp up my wasteful spending again. WAIT—DO THEY TAKE US ALL FOR FOOLS?!

It’s not like the economy has gotten any better. I should know. I’m drinking OFFICE coffee this morning because I already spent my Starbucks gift card stocking stuffer on daily ass-inflating cinnamon dolce lattes last week. I actually paid with a check at Central Market last night (floater), like those little old ladies that hold up the entire line because they don’t understand that no one writes checks anymore. (This typically leads me to sigh audibly and roll my eyes while pretending to read Natural Health magazine until Grandma manages to load the groceries into her cart.)

In other words, I’m sure you’re hurting as much as I am, if not more, given that people tend to drink when they’re depressed and you already drank in excess so now any money that you might have is going into the Nectar of the Gods.

Does the government really expect us to forget about the bailouts of 2008 just because gas prices have fallen? And what about the companies which have been rewarded for f—king around for the past decade? I was watching TV last night when a new GMC commercial came on, announcing that they have lowered prices on all their SUVs. I was about to go on a tirade but I didn’t want to disturb my husband since he was cooking my dinner and I was extremely hungry. (We’re only eating every other night, due to the economy.) So I sat there stewing in silence.

You know that $17 billion bailout for the auto industry? Well, make that $23 billion as of Monday, when the Treasury added another $6 billion; one billion of which goes directly to GM. For good behavior.

Not that I’ve ever been much of a car person. My first car was a used neon-blue VW bug. My father thought it was important for all of us to know how to drive stick. Have you ever tried popping into first gear on a steep hill with one hand because you were holding the driver’s seat door, which was falling off its hinges, closed with the other? My next car was a Dodge Colt. Hot. In college, I drove a used Honda Prelude, which was impounded and destroyed in Chicago after I continued to park in the snow zones. Then, a used Saturn. With no radio or power steering. Finally, in my early 30’s, I graduated to a new Honda Accord. In the test drive, I screamed, “OH MY GOD! Power windows!” with glee, so there was really no room for haggling.

My advice to you? Skip the Sierra and the Yukon, and save your money. You’re going to need it when that ex-girlfriend shows up at the door with a 10-year-old kid, claiming he’s yours, and demanding alimony.

When I headed up to DC for the holidays, I brought my laptop with me, having every intention to work a little in between freezing my ass off caroling and actively participating in a living nativity scene. (I wanted to be Mary, they made me one of the oxen.) But you try explaining to four nephews that Auntie Drinkie can’t help them cover themselves in Dora band-aids because she has to go blog.

There didn’t seem to be much political news anyway, and I was too caught up in that whole River Road flood in Bethesda. I was afraid to take a shower in McLean, VA because I thought the Act of God might be headed my way and I would have to be airlifted out of the bathroom.

In retrospect, I suppose I could have written about Christmas dinner and how my relatives almost disowned me because I don’t think Caroline Kennedy’s qualified to be senator, especially considering the enormous shoes she has to fill. This is not the first time that I’ve found myself on the opposite side of my family. The primaries, for example, come to mind.

But if I had blogged about it, it would have ended with everyone at the table (minus the toddlers, who were running around the house naked, along with a renegade uncle) slowly coming around to my position, nodding their heads and sipping espressos and praising my infinite wisdom, saying, “Well, Eileen, you’re right again.”

So I ended up taking an actual vacation, and arrived back in Austin earlier today. I won’t bore you with the details of my journey, except to say that the flight attendants tried to take away my Christmas village lighthouse that I was carrying on the plane because they didn’t think it would fit in the overhead bins, leaving me little choice but to scream THIS IS A COLLECTOR’S EDITION AND YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A GLORIFIED BAR WENCH.

That said, I trust you all had a nice holiday and that you’re ready to embark on a new Texas legislative session. I didn’t even realize it was coming (I guess I wasn’t on the press distribution list, OMG) until I ran into Kirk Watson at Jo’s coffee. Thanks for ruining my chai and tuna melt, Senator.

If you did not have a nice holiday, please don’t whine about it in the comments because that will just bring everyone down and it’s not our fault that your family doesn’t like you, or that your crow’s feet are starting to show, or that another year has gone by and you’re still not making anything of your life.

That’s my job.

It’s that time of year again, when people take off from work and start drinking heavily in order to survive the holidays, which were so much more fun when you could actually buy presents for people without participating in a research study for an “experimental” drug. I have no idea when these hives are going to go away.

It’ll be a slow week between Christmas and New Year’s, given that I’m on vacation and so are most of you. I beg you to take a break from the Internet and Choose Lives instead—I’m talking interaction with real people, possibly even your own children. However, in between kissing someone you didn’t know was your cousin under the mistletoe, and being snubbed by various state employees, go ahead and check in and see if I’ve been able to tear myself away from the traditional holiday Law & Order marathons long enough to put up a few posts.

For now, here’s your ITP traditional Christmas post. I made it into an actual story.

I grew up Catholic (which explains a lot) and we did the whole advent calendar, nativity scene, school Christmas pageant, caroling thing, but let’s face it: Baby Jesus or not, my sisters and I were in it for the presents. That’s not so unusual for a child who thinks that the world revolves around them. Now, for a grown woman, it’s a little delusional but that’s a story for another time and another place. (My memoirs from rehab.)

Read it here.

And to all, a good night.

Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without another bailout! This morning, President Bush announced a rescue plan for the auto industry to the tune of $13 billion in federal loans. Since I’m taking a break from NPR to enjoy my Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass Christmas CD on the way to work, I almost missed this. Luckily my husband is glued to CNBC every day to watch the eye candy that is Erin Burnett.

The money will be pulled from the $700 billion fund, meaning that now the Treasury has handed out all of the $350 billion that it can without additional authorization from Congress. I’m sure that Congress will be more than happy to oblige since they want to get the hell out of Dodge (LOL!) for the holidays. But, really, what choice do we have? If we let GM and Chrysler go into bankruptcy, where are we supposed to get our cars? Tokyo?

So unto us, another bailout is born. But that’s not the true miracle today. The true miracle is a new baby for that freakshow family from Arkansas featured on TLC’s “17 Kids and Counting.” Well now it’s “18 Kids and Counting!” I have never felt so much joy for our soon-to-be destroyed mother earth. (Seriously. Even Perry and his specialty license plates don’t think you should choose life that many times.)

Yes, Jim Bob (I’m not kidding) and Michelle delivered their eighth daughter and named her Jordyn-Grace Makiya Duggar, in keeping with all the other “J” family names: Joshua; Jana; John-David; Jill; Jessa; Jinger; Joseph; Josiah; Joy-Anna; Jeremiah; Jedidiah; Jason; James; Justin; Jackson; Johannah; and Jennifer.

Hold on while I wipe the vomit off my keyboard.

Updated: Someone emailed me this picture on Friday afternoon but I had already snuck out of the office for a bachelorette party (I was the stripper), and I didn’t see it until now. And, for the record, I think it’s awesome. Good on them. The joke’s on me.

Thank GOD there was something newsworthy that came out of that Gov. Perry “Choose Life” license plate press conference. It’s not like I wanted to go in the first place. In fact, I begged Burka to go instead…

Me: There’s some bulls—t presser going on at the Capitol today. I so don’t want to go.
Paul: Too bad.
Me: It’s foggy and damp out. You do it.
Paul: No.
Me: PLEASE!
Paul: No way.
Me: But I’m wearing open-toed shoes!
Paul: So am I!

DAMMIT.

So I rushed down Congress in what could only be described as sky snot, took the elevator (stairs? in these shoes?) up to the Governor’s press room, signed in as IIIIN, and snagged a chair in the front row with the rest of the press corps. I thought of skulking in the back but it had been overtaken by priests and women of a certain age sporting bejeweled crosses around their necks.

As Perry walked out, I sat up straight in my chair so he would know I was there and would only be reporting on his hair and choice of neckties. After extolling the virtues of the specialty Why Do You Hate Babies license plates, he announced, “Let’s see Kay kiss the religious right’s ass like THAT. Bam!” When I noticed the real reporters around me jotting things down in their trusty notebooks, I quickly whipped out a pen and started writing on my hand. But, since I have freakishly small hands, I could only fit two of Perry’s quotes.

“If there’s been a more pro-life governor in Texas, you’d be hard pressed to find one,” and, on 2010, “I only know one person running for sure and you’re looking at him.”

At the end, press secretary Allison Castle handed out statements to the reporters. And by “reporters,” I mean: Wayne Slater, Jason Embry, Elise Hu, R.G. Ratcliffe, [SKIP OVER], Kelley Shannon.

I’m the skip over. And this was no, oops! didn’t see you there! honest mistake! this was a deliberate pass-pass-pass-pass-SNUB-pass. She even looked back at me over her shoulder triumphantly as if to say, oh BURN. I sat there, mouth agape, not sure what to do, looking around to see if anyone else had noticed. I would just like to add for those of you who accuse me of day drinking stupors, this was a definite snub.

Prior to the snub from Little Miss Snubber of Snubtown, I was planning on writing about the license plates and how this is a completely bogus gesture during a time when we’re all selling our body parts on eBay, and how Perry couldn’t care less whether this legislation passes or not. But now, it’s all about the snub.

Yesterday, the Illinois Supreme Court rejected AG Lisa Madigan’s bid to have Gov. Blagojevich declared unfit to hold office. (What, is he hearing voices now?) His attorney, Ed Genson, said that there is “zero” evidence of any wrongdoing on the part of the governor.

“This is ‘Alice in Wonderland,’ ” Genson told the members of the impeachment committee. “The issue in this case is the evidence you have. The evidence you have is nil, zero, nothing.”

Emphasis added to highlight the fact that OH MY GOD ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Nil? Zero? Nothing? Nada? Niente? Ничего? 무가치? Othing-nay?

There are PHONE RECORDS. The man was caught on TAPE trying to sell the SENATE SEAT. He swears like a blogger and doesn’t even have the courtesy to use em-dashes! As in “F-em-dash-k me? F-em-dash-k you!”

However, Blagojevich’s attorney dismissed the recordings, saying his client’s comments were taken out of context. Of course. See, what the feds failed to release was how Blago closed every alleged inflammatory statement with, “You guys know I’m totally f-em-dash-king with you, right?” and “GOTCHA. Oh, man, you should’ve seen your face.”

When a huffing-and-puffing miserably out-of-shape reporter caught up with Blago on his morning jog, the governor said that he is “dying” to tell his side of the story, adding “to quote Elvis, ‘Hang loose.’ ” Who quotes Elvis?

Now some of you may be thinking, obsessed much, Eileen? Guilty as charged. When I was in J-school in Chicago, I never really got a chance to cover politics or City Hall or Springfield because I was too busy filing stories from Skokie about nursing home residents doing water aerobics.

Since the fan-f—ing-tastic Blagojevich morning jog clip has been hastily removed from YouTube, I had little choice but to post this video of Evan and I talking about the Senate race, Bill White, John Sharp, and another crappy year for the D’s in 2010. (Initially I was wearing my faux-glasses but Evan said they looked ridiculous so I took them off and now I look all squinty and tired. I was just trying to fit in with Evan and Paul.)

This video is no longer available. But DAMN it was funny.

You think times are tough for you. Try being Bernard Madoff (no relation), the disgraced ponzi faux-vestor who appeared in court earlier today only to emerge with an ankle monitor and a curfew. Although he remains free on bail, he’s not allowed to leave his Manhattan apartment between the hours of 7 p.m to 9 a.m.

That’s a curfew? Those are my regular hours.

However, for the man who “routinely spent $50 on pedicures,” the ankle bracelet has got to be embarrassing. How are they supposed to pumice around that unsightly contraption?

I don’t know about you, but I want someone to pay for the dire economic straits I find myself in as of late. I had to forgo Starbucks this morning and get my pumpkin spice latte at the Whole Foods coffee bar, which is cheaper only because you’re not guilted into tipping someone who can’t even spell your name right (today: Ileen). As for the $50 billion Madoff scandal, people are pointing fingers at SEC Chair Chris Cox who, while saying there’s no evidence of wrongdoing by his staff, seized the opportunity to blame his staff.

The bottom line is, CRIPES WHERE THE HELL IS ALL OUR MONEY GOING?!

According to Newsweek, we shouldn’t be so quick to laugh at all those rich people, saying HA HA I guess being completely broke has its upside, you pompous gullible ass! The Madoff fallout will indirectly impact the middle class as well, including pensions, nest eggs, and choosing to buy new clothes for yourself or for your children. So, fear not. There’s enough screw the pooch to go around.