My Spider Sense is Tingling!

Something is afoot.  I think the wingnuts are emerging from their lairs.  I think The Turd Blossom and Grendel Brazile may be making a baby...the next Pampers perhaps.  They will raise him in an underground vault and he will come forth and eat our young.

Speaking of underground vaults, I think I'm going to have to build a bunker.  I think I'll fill it with whiskey, beer, lava lamps, sound equipment, an unlimited supply of music, and kosher deli.  There will be room for all of you.  Just bring a tinfoil hat, ice, more alcohol, and a bag of sand.  

Is it me, or is Pampers' gibberish making less sense than usual.  I think he must have sent Joe Villages to buy some scotch tape so Big Pamp can "fix the country up."  Oh brother.  

So get your records together: no ipods until we wear out all our record stylus (some of you probably have no idea what the hell I'm talking about...that makes my head hurt), those of you who still remember records that is.

This song is so frickin' catchy that we're going to play the crap out of it.  Anyone out there still remember how to twist?