Monday, August 21, 2006

Welcome to the Wingnut Disco!


See, spend a weekend cleaning for a toddler birthday party, and you miss the wonders of the internets.

The (disco) ball gets rolling, as is so often the case, with General J.C. Christian, who proposes an award, "The Dark Stain of Valor," for those who wet themselves at the thought of a brown person with Vaseline. It is far preferable, he believes, to the "Patriot Pampies" recommended by his wife, Ofjoshua.

I'm not ashamed of the sudden incontinence I experience when I see a swarthy person. The dark stain that radiates from my crotch isn't an external display of fear. It's a warning symbol to all around me that I've spotted a potential terrorist and will report him or her to the State Security Apparatus the moment I stop shaking enough to dial my cellphone.

I like to think of it as a kind of self-awarded medal, a "Dark Stain of Valor" or "DSV" if you will. It's a commendation that almost anyone, no matter their class, can obtain. Just as Sen. Specter wore it deservedly and proudly when he attempted to pass his warrantless wiretap legislation, so did Allahpundit when he risked a coronary reporting on the "Ahmadinejad virus" and the dangers of petroleum jelly. Their respective stations in life made no difference. Each earned the DSV solely on his own merit.


(And now I'll always picture the good General as Rich on Lucky Louie. Shudder.)

Then we move on to Corrente, who take the bedwetting theme one further, by setting it to disco music. Their contribution: Pissin' Our Pants (to the tune of "Stayin' Alive"). (Fun typo fact: I first typed "Stain." Huh.)

Well, you can tell by the way I stain my pants
I’m a patriot: just read my rants
Muslims make me want to hiss, when they come at me
I start to piss
And now it’s airtight, it’s inside
I have hung onto my pride
We just want to all be safe
But when I walk I tend to chafe

When you are so frightened the tension is quite heightened
You’re pissing your pants, pissing your pants
Feel the bladder leakin’, everybody freakin’
And we’re pissing our pants, pissing our pants
Ah, ha, ha, ha, pissing our pants, pissing our pants
Ah, ha, ha, ha, pissing our pants…


And we move on to LGF Watch, "I Want Depends"
(to the tune of "I Will Survive".)

So here I go, I'm out the door,
Goin' to Walgreens,
Where I know there's plenty more.
There's just so many products for incontinents like me,
Do you think I'll settle
For less than top-notch quality?

Oh, no, not I!
I want Depends®!
My country needs me at my keyboard, 'cause the evil never ends;
Can't interrupt myself to pee,
Though it happens constantly...
I want Depends®,
I want Depends®,
Hey hey!

And now I'm ready for the latest airport scare,
I'm always glued to all the news here in my basement lair;
Got a steady stream of Cheetos, and intravenous Mountain Dew,
I don't need breaks; I can sit here 'round the clock!
So here I am, somebody new,
I'm fighting with my keyboard and protecting you.
Just in case another Muslim tries to get onto a plane,
I had better go stock up before it all begins again.


It's anyone's guess where this will all end up: laughter really is the only meaningful response to the chronic bedwetters.

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