Bloodstone on the Finally Friday Freakout

It was either this or the Oompa Loompas. I love the Oompa Loompas but I think paying respect to Bloodstone's Outside Woman is more appropriate to the week that was.

Now I could have gone with the Eagles and New Kid In Town but as much as I like the song it was too easy.

The outside woman. Yes indeed. Not a word about Michelle. Not a peep about Cindy. Nope, everybody was talking about Sarah.

They have been telling me how pretty she is and how she looks like and represents the majority of American women voters. She doesn’t look like me. Girl ain’t got no hips even after giving birth five times. They repeated told me about her fertility. A lot.

How Sarah reflects the views of the conservative woman who up to now has not been heard. How the PUMAs Gals will knock themselves silly to cast a vote for anybody but Obama and now have a way to get some estrogen in the White House one way or the other.

Um, ok.

But, as I am want to do I ask myself questions as the teeming masses stamped over to the newest political MILF. And for sure, some men folk have stated that they would do her in a heartbeat. Grown men talking about bonking the VP. I thought that was contrary to American conservative values but you live and you learn.

I have been learning a lot this week. I learned that if you are in a television studio and there is a microphone any place on the premises you need to be very, very careful about the words that may or may not come out of your mouth. However, even though what you said was truthful, stupid or beyond the pale, with your very own voice, you can actually turn around and say you were mis-interpreted.

I learned that a room full of people yelling “drill, drill” is scary. Because they are not the people who would do the actually drilling of oil near the beaches of California. Because they would be first folks hiring contractors who would then hire undocumented workers to provide short term energy gains.

Having a room full of people yelling “drill, drill” is a mnemonic for “do as you are told, don’t waste time thinking.”

Which is kinda what got us into the mess in the first place. I learned more stuff like to be a community organizer is a bad thing. I think Jay Smooth says it much better and much more kinder than I would be able to so check this out:


Well, once again I’ve gone off track. In the words of the song, I, as the outside woman, should not feel bad. It is not looking good but you can't give up hope.

I'm hoping that people would apply that B.S. they keep posting on looking beyond race and gender and get to some brain crunching, analytical, what could I put into place that future generation could live with or be able to handle thinking.

Peace out, I'm going to hang with the Oompa Loompas for a while.