Invert(e)

Canvassing for change

Barack Obama tried to kill me yesterday.

No, it wasn’t his usual tactic of carving a backwards “B” into my face. Instead, he sent me to an all-white rural neighborhood adorned with American flags and armed with throngs of rabid pit bulls.

At one point, the roaming, frothing dogs blocked my path on the street and I thought for sure it was all over. The good news is that the children who are organizing are local campaign office had sent me to the wrong precinct – so rather than continue to tell people the wrong polling place, I was instructed to return to headquarters.

I may have just blown one middle-of-America precinct, but I have a tactic for turning this otherwise KKK state Blue......

Gay love behind the news

This is Hilarious.

McCain's pro-pedophile platform

Hee hee.

Johnny "Walter Reed Middle School McCain," apparently shooting from the hip again without first checking the facts, is now running a commercial where he opposes programs designed to teach kids how to keep themselves safe from child molesters.

The ad was meant to be an attack on Obama, of course, juxtaposing images of the smiling Democrat along with the message that Obama supported a program that wants to teach kids about "Sex -- before reading."

But the Obama camp, which has called the McCain ads "perverse"--points out that the program was an age-appropriate effort to teach kids about proper and improper touching, and a way to protect them from pedophiles.

Now the McCain-Palin ticket is on record as favoring not just rapists' reproductive rights but easier access for child molesters. Judgment and experience indeed.

The job

The first thing you need to know about my first hand job is that computers in 1983 were huge.

Peter’s was the size of the small dining table that had been relegated to the corner of the kitchen. 

I don’t even think you could save anything on it. A floppy disk was the only way to leave and take information, and there were no windows – just a black screen with a green, bulbous blinking cursor.

“Run,” Peter typed into the only place we were allowed to put words.

This awakened the floppy drive—a separate machine, often used as drink coaster--which sat next to the bulky monitor and responded with a red, steady light.