Archive for ‘Idiots Bite’

May 29th, 2008

Sometimes A Scarf Is Just A Scarf

by Venomous Kate

Rachel Ray coffee ad

When is a scarf so much more than a scarf? Apparently when it’s worn by America’s culinary cutie, Rachel Ray, and said scarf slightly resembles the Palestinian keffiyeh.

After an uproar led by notable conservatives such as Michelle Malkin and LGF’s Charles Johnson — both of whom must have been terribly bored — Dunkin’ Donuts has pulled the ad at no small expense.

So what’s the story? Malkin et al. seem to believe that wearing such a scarf constitutes hate couture and somehow signals support of terrorism.

The keffiyeh, for the clueless, is the traditional scarf of Arab men that has come to symbolize murderous Palestinian jihad. Popularized by Yasser Arafat and a regular adornment of Muslim terrorists appearing in beheading and hostage-taking videos, the apparel has been mainstreamed by both ignorant (and not so ignorant) fashion designers, celebrities, and left-wing icons.

What hole do Malkin and Johnson live in that they’re convinced the keffiyeh is, in and of itself, a symbol of terrorism? Or that a woman’s wearing of it means, well, anything?

The keffiyeh (also known as the shmagh, shemagh, ghutra, hatta or mashada), is a traditional Arabic men’s headdress. It’s a functional piece of clothing designed to protect the head and neck from the arid, blistering heat of the Middle East. As such, it’s been around for thousands of years — long before Yasser Arafat, the Taliban or any other Islamic extremists.

To argue that, because terrorists have been seen wearing such clothing, anyone who wears similar items must also be a terrorist is laughable.

Why, some of those terrorists in the beheading and hostage-taking videos wore black clothing from head-to-toe. Wouldn’t that make, oh, 75% of NYC’s residents “terrorists” under the same logic? Come to think of it, I seem to recall both President Bush and John McCain dressing in head-to-toe black recently. What say you to that, Malkin: does the similarity in clothing make them terrorists, too?

Shall we call every woman who’s ever worn a caftan, a style originating in the Middle East, a terrorist? Pity the grandmas in Florida who shrug one on at poolside, then. I imagine they’ll be surprised to learn they’re considered terrorist sympathizers for having opted for comfort.

And what about the fez, that funny little hat which symbolizes Islamic identity and signals support for the Caliphate? Would that make The Shriners terrorists for wearing it, too?

Fact is, we live in an increasingly small world. Our fashions reflect this, just as they have throughout history. Those earrings Malkin so attractively wears (while dressed head-to-toe in black)? They were first worn by men… in Persia. Oh, and guess what: blush and other forms of makeup trace their origins back to Iran.

Is Malkin signaling her support for terrorism by wearing them? Of course not. And neither was Rachel Ray when her stylist wrapped her neck in a scarf that’s been in fashion for a couple of years now.

That’s what’s most disgusting about Malkin’s stance on the Dunkin’ Donuts ad: it reveals her ignorance as much as her rabid prejudice that lumps all things Middle Eastern in with terrorists. As an American and a Republican and someone with Iranian ancestry, I call foul both on Malkin and on Dunkin’ Donuts for having given in to her hate-mongering.

Shame on you.

UPDATE: I like Timmer’s idea!

UPDATE TWO: Malkin to world: do what I say, not what I do!

April 15th, 2008

Sometimes You Shouldn’t Hyphenate

by Venomous Kate

When VH and I married, I resisted taking his last name. For one thing, I liked mine. Quite a bit, as a matter of fact. In comparison, his seemed dull and, more importantly, not mine.

Oh, sure, I realized that marriage meant mingling our incomes, our belongings and our body parts. But those things involved mingling, not a complete surrender and disavowal of the life I’d lived until the moment the “I Do’s” were done deals.

While I practiced law, he understood my reasons for keeping my maiden name for professional purposes. Once I left the practice, however, my desire to hyphenate became quite the issue. But I stood my ground for seven long years… right up to the point where he shut up about it. Then — and only then — was I willing to begin using his last name as my own.

Then again, neither of us had one of those names which should never, ever be hyphenated. C’mon, Aiken-Johnson? Wacker-Daily? Don’t these people read???

March 20th, 2008

Dear Jenifa James: You Poor Pathetic Thing

by Venomous Kate

Ever since that nice little email from the spammer who broke my heart, I’ve been scouring my InBox for replies from Mr. John Obi. Alas, his interest in me seems to have been as fleeting as I feared.

But that’s all right. Really, it is. I’ve always got Jenifa James to warm the cockles of my heart… wherever they are.

Dearest One,

See, now this is a much nicer form of address than ol’ John’s “Dear Sir/Madam”. Everyone likes to feel dear, don’t they? I know I do, at least. Which is why I found my dear Jenifa’s next line a bit confusing:

I am writting this letter with due respect and heartful of tears since we have not known or met ourselves previously.

Wait a minute, weren’t you the chick just addressing me as “Dearest One”? Now you tell me we don’t know each other and, in fact, we haven’t even met? What is this, a drunk email or something?

I am asking for your assistance after I have gone through a profile that speaks good of you. I want to find out if it’s possible for you to deal with individual as to investment. I came across your profile and I feel it’s highly reputable that is why I pick an interest getting across to you in respect of investment at my disposal.

Janifa, my dear, you really think my profile speaks good of me? Personally, I wouldn’t mind a little nip off the end of my nose and perhaps a bit stronger chin, but thanks. Oh, wait, you meant my online persona… well, now, if you think highly of a woman whose profile clearly says her first name is “Venomous” then I might just have some ocean front property in Arizona for you to consider with that investment at your disposal.

I will be so glad if you can allow me and lead me to the right channel towards your assistance to my situation now. I would like to use this opportunity to introduce myself to you.

Huh? You’re just now getting around to the introductions? Woman, what kind of bass-ackwards country do you come from?

I am jenifa James 22Years Old Lady from (cote d ivore) ,the only daughter of Late Micheal James

Ah, the Ivory Coast. It’s all starting to make sense now: the spelling errors, the bass-ackwardsness.

My father is now late he was a well known cocoa and gold merchant business man in my country( cote d ivore) ,he was poisoned by his co-business partner a year ago.

Cocoa, huh? I’m guessing your father wasn’t so much into the Swiss Miss variety as in the harvesting of the leaves. Am I right? Huh, am I? It’s okay, Jenifa, you can tell me. Why, I’m you’re Dearest One, remember?

Of course, I’m awfully sorry to hear about your father’s partner bumping him off. Then again, Jenifa, if your pappy wasn’t smart enough to foresee the risks of having a partner in the drug and gold business, well, perhaps the whole experience should just be chalked up to that “survival of the fittest” thing.

Tell me, Sweets: do you take after him?

The main reason why I am contacting you now is to seek your assistance in the area of my future investment and also for a help hand over some huge amount of money in my possession.

Translation: Daddy wasn’t into Swiss Miss. Gotcha.

This fund ( US5.6 Million dollars) is deposited in a bank in my country in (cote d’ivoire) a years ago by my father he made me the sole beneficiary.I am now asking you to stand on my behalf,to stand as my partner and in time of the claim and investment as well.

Awesome! What should I wear? I mean, I’ve never traveled to the Ivory Coast, but from what I’ve read it’s kind of warm down there, right? Y’all still have taxi’s though, right? I mean, I don’t expect you to pick me up at the airport or anything, so if you’ll just give me the name and address of the bank, and a time and date when you’ll be there, I’ll be happy to stand around while you do the sitting, deal?

I have made up my mind to offer you 13% of the total money while the remaining will go into a productive investment.

Sweet! Let’s see, 13% of US $5.6 million is $728,000. That’s a nice little chunk of change for just flying down there and standing around in some bank. Why, given your country’s economy with its GDP running around $645 per person, I could even live out my life-long dream of being a philanthropist Oprah-style and still have $708,000 left over.

Pls attach your direct and full information as you reply to me.

No problem, Friend. But just in case you didn’t get that email response of mine, here it is: Venomous Kate at the email address you already used. See, wasn’t that easy?

Thanks and remain bless. Best Regards, jenifaJames

Gezhundeit to you, too, Jenifa. Don’t forget to send me that info on the bank’s location and the time of our meeting, m’kay? I’d hate to let you down after you went to such great lengths to look up my profile and determine for yourself whether I’m reputable.

Meanwhile, please don’t take offense over the category I’ve filed our little email exchange under. It’s nothing personal. I just don’t have a blog category for complete strangers who contact me in the hope I’ll help them with their financial investments.

March 1st, 2008

Drudge Has No Class

by Venomous Kate

There’s much ado this weekend over Drudge’s “breaking” story concerning Prince Harry’s tour of duty.

For 10 weeks, the British news agencies honored an agreement reached with the Ministry of Defence to forego disclosure of Prince Harry’s front line position in Afghanistan in exchange for media access to the Prince during his deployment. Then Matt Druge, long known for sensationalist, tabloid tactics, decided to share Prince Harry’s posting with the world.

As a result of Drudge’s story, the Prince’s tour of duty was cut short to protect his safety as well as those of his fellow soldiers. Harry returned home safely this morning. It’s unknown at this time what his next posting will entail.

James Joyner of Outside the Beltway points out that, while Drudge wasn’t a signatory to the media-MoD agreement, there’s much to be said for abiding by such “gentlemen’s agreements”.

Little Miss Attila puts it more succinctly: fuck Matt Drudge.

And now, as I learned from VodkaPundit, there’s a movement afoot to drop Drudge.

As you can see, I couldn’t agree more:

Bloggers drop Matt Drudge in protest for reporting the location of Prince Harry

Want one for your site? Copy the link below then post it at your place.

<a href="http://www.electricvenom.com/2008/03/01/drudge-has-no-class/"><img src="http://www.electricvenom.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/03/no_drudge.JPG" alt="Bloggers drop Matt Drudge in protest for reporting the location of Prince Harry" /></a><br />
Join the movement: <a href="http://insidecharmcity.com/2008/02/29/drop-drudge/">Drop Drudge</a>.<br />

UPDATE: By request here’s a graphic small enough for use in a sidebar.

Drop Drudge sidebar button

Snag it by copying and pasting the code below:

<a href="http://www.electricvenom.com/2008/03/01/drudge-has-no-class/"><img src="http://www.electricvenom.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/03/drudge_button.JPG" alt="Bloggers drop Matt Drudge in protest for reporting the location of Prince Harry" /></a><br />
Join the movement: <a href="http://insidecharmcity.com/2008/02/29/drop-drudge/">Drop Drudge</a>.<br />
February 18th, 2008

DHL Screwed Up AGAIN!

by Venomous Kate

You know, for a while there I felt pretty bad about how much I’d complained when DHL took over 2 weeks to deliver a 2-day package. I mean, it really was very thoughtful of the Regional Manager to drive all the way to my house to say that DHL was sorry for the outrageous delay.

And, I have to admit they did deliver one package on time last month, which I hoped was a sign they’d straightened things out.

Silly me.

Today DHL brought another package to my door. This one was a box of books that Leslie of Leslie’s Omnibus sent me… on December 24, 2007.

That’s right: it took DHL Express one month and 25 days to deliver a package.

Unfortunately, the Venomous Hubby was the one who answered the door when the driver stopped by. If it’d been me, well, let’s just say you’d be reading VH’s first blog entry here at EV as he informed you of my incarceration.

February 5th, 2008

Dear Local News Channels

by Venomous Kate

Yes, it’s Super Tuesday. If I hadn’t figured that out on my own, your constant proclamation of the fact every 5 minutes during the 5 a.m., 6 a.m., 7 a.m and 8 a.m. morning news would’ve clued me in.

Ditto for the 23 mentions I counted during the noon news.

Within two hours of their opening, you’d already proclaimed that Obama got the Democrat nod in Kansas, Hillary took it in Missouri where McCain edged out Huckabee at the Republican primary. But just in case I hadn’t figured that out from your 5 o’clock and 6 o’clock news, I certainly understood it during the first 5 minutes of your 9 o’clock news show. (The other 19 times you brought it up in the 10 o’clock news program were rather redundant.)

Now here it is 10:53 p.m. and you’re still babbling on about the results. And babbling. And babbling yet some more.

Look, not a single one of you hair-sprayed, Botoxed bubble heads are actually political scientists so why are you occupying valuable pre-bedtime broadcasting time talking about things well beyond your collective, double-digit IQ?

And, please, don’t convince yourself that pulling some schlub from each party’s local headquarters makes you somehow look more erudite. The fact that none of you could think up a single insightful question just served to emphasize that your viewers’ evenings would have been better spent watching yet another rerun of King of Queens.

I just thought I’d point this out since, after all, the Kansas Republican primary isn’t until Saturday and I’d rather spare you — and myself — yet another evening of your vapid blather.

Regards,
VK

January 19th, 2008

Dear Mr. John Obi: You Broke My Heart!

by Venomous Kate

My poor email InBox has been feeling neglected of late. Oh, sure, there are plenty of comments from folks and emails from friends, but my online stalkers seem to dwindled and so I’m not getting 13 new emails every hour. On the hour.

So you can imagine my joy to have received an email from Mr. John Obi, Esq., from whom I hadn’t heard in quite some time. How grateful am I for his recent communique? Grateful enough to post it here for you in all its glory, my Venomites.

Dear Sir/Madam,

Oh, my, John. Take a look at that photo. Does it really leave you doubting my gender? I admit, that brown blouse isn’t terribly flattering to my skin tone. Should I wear saffron next time, or perhaps you’d prefer dusky rose? I’ve never really known what “season” I am. Maybe next time I should just go with showing some cleavage so my gender’s more obvious, yes?

I apologize for any inconveniences caused if this mail does not meet your demands,though I do not intend to embarrass you by the contents of this very mail.

Now, Johnny, I confess I am a demanding woman, and one of the things that I demand — yea, what one of my true fetishes — is a man with good grammar. Next time, might I suggest, insert a space prior to your comma. It’s so much more revealing of your true literary talents than, say, a missed period.

While we’re at it, I’m rather difficult to embarrass. That “Venomous” part should have given that much away, at least.

In Confidence and good faith, I know this will come to you as a surprise because you have not received any prior communication from me before now; nevertheless this proposition which I bring to you is for the benefit of both of us.

What, you don’t remember our history? You wrote me three months ago, sweetheart. Also, four months ago, seven months ago and just slightly past thirteen months ago. I’m heartbroken, I am. I thought I was memorable. Obviously, I really do need to include cleavage on the next photo.

I am Mr. John Obi (ESQ), Head of Internal Audit Suisse Credit Finance London, working as part of a bigger team that covers the entire UK region.

I know who you are, hon. Like I said, I can’t believe you don’t remember how passionately you’ve emailed me before. So it saddens me greatly to be the one to tell you that your job is up for grabs. But rest assured, my friend, I will remain as true to you as you are to me.

I have decided to work something out with you based on certain reasons and hope you can be of assistance in this.

Based on “certain reasons”? Oooh, Johnny, your Swiss-Germanic accent just sent shivers up my thigh-high patent leather boot-clad thighs. “Certain reasons”. I can practically hear those sibilant S’s. They’re so… how do you say?… venomous.

At the moment, I am constrained to issue more details about this until your positive response is received.

A man of mystery. I like that. These days there are so many men who, like women, share too many details. Oh, I know, I share TMI myself (that, by the way, is American-speak for “telling it like it is”, something I know you Swiss-Germanic types aren’t really into and yet, like my Persian stalkers also seem to find a turn-on.

On receipt of your indication of interest, I would further details concerning my motive to you.

Well, John Boy, let me just say now that I’m interested. Heart-broken because you don’t remember our repeated passionate exchanges (during which, I confess, I might have seemed a bit “hard to get” due to my instinct of marking your love tomes as spam) but nevertheless I’m interested.

Piqued, even.

If this proposal is acceptable by you, please endeavor to reply me immediately,if not please disregard this email.

By my count it’s been 8 minutes. Is that fast enough for you, John?

I assure you, as an American woman who shares TMI, eight minutes are still too short in my book. Wink, wink. Hint, hint. Nudge, nudge.

Thank you very much for your anticipated response while I expect your reply soonest.

Did you anticipate this? Seriously, John-John? Did you think I’d acknowledge your secretive missive in such a large way? That I’d declare my passionate, enthusiastic “YES!” for the whole wide world to see?

Well, let me just assure you, my timid friend: YES! YES! YESSSSSSS!

Now, what was it that you proposed? Oh, hmm… Well, I’m sure someone as insightful as you’ve proven to be will understand why I now must needs make that a “qualified yes”.

Warmest regards,
John Obi ESQ

Warmest? As in: nice, roasty, toasty warm? As in, the flames of hell are burning beneath your feet and the Devil just informed you that he’s done his best, so now he’s turning you over to the Venomous One?

Oh, yes, Johnny Boy, I am certain your regards are nice and warm in whatever post-equatorial, sand-riddled, A/C-deprived, bass-ackwards country you really live in. (Oh, wait, I just checked. You’re in Malaysia. Well, like I said…).

By the way, I can add that “Esq.” behind my name, too.

Only mine’s legal. And, since you’ve seemed to already have my gender confused, let’s just say it’s literal enough that you should most likely translate it as: She Devil who will ride your ass into hell.

Don’t be a stranger now, John. M’kay?

January 16th, 2008

So, Do You Feel Lucky Punk?

by Venomous Kate

A word to the wise (and VH):

When your wife complains about being tired, bloated, crampy, broken out and just a mite bit testy, and yet she’s still managed to do the laundry, supervise your child, tidy the house and somehow squeeze in a shower, do not — I repeat DO NOT — complain if she doesn’t have anything planned for dinner.

And if you do complain and she responds with a suggestion that you pull your head out of your ass and look in the fridge to see if there is something you can cook, NEVER reply with “Gee, do you have PMS or something?”

Because the chances are pretty good that she might and, if that’s the case, do you really want a pissed off woman cooking your meal?

Trust me.


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