All Too Common…

Keeping it real at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue…in a true, Obama/Soetaro sorta way. Mebbes Harry Reid ‘suggested’ wink, wink, Common to the White Hut…to make HIS Cowboy Poetry Festival seem all the more…festive.

Tonight…Wednesday, May 11, 2011…the ‘rapper’ Common (oh…wow…that’s a cleavah stage name…it was shortened from Common Sense) will be reading ‘works’ from his ‘poetry/rap/meal ticket’ body of musings at the White House.

Now, the mix of pop culture and the political has always occurred…but its the irony of this unCommon invite that has caused some authentic ‘keeping it real’ controversy.

Lonnie Rashid Lynn, Jr., aka, Common, was born March 13, 1972 to educator mom Dr. Mahila Ann Hines and from ABA basketball player turned youth counselor turned NBA coach (Chicago Bulls staff), Lonnie Rashid Lynn. His was an atypical, for the rap world, upbringing. A professional mother, a successful (though divorced) father. So upper middle class was his upbringing that he ‘worshipped’ at the uber upwardly mobile Trinity United Church of Christ in Chicago. (Audible gasps!!!) That is the same church that Barry Soetaro frequented. Do we see a pattern here? Given some of Common’s ‘rhymes’ he must have paid a little more attention to the Pastor…Jeremiah Wright.

Common has written some ‘troublesome’ lyrics…like his pal fellow ‘I had a well financed, stable, happy childhood, so I better rebel with a record deal and drop the ‘N’ word every chance I get’ Kanye West some of them revolve around George W. Bush:

“With that happening, why they messing with Saddam?

Burn a Bush cos’ for peace he no push no button

Killing over oil and grease

no weapons of destruction

How can we follow a leader when this a corrupt one”

Okay…a little more dymanic than West’s ‘George Bush hates Black people’ but same old, same old.

Young Mr. Lynn also seems to have an affinity for cop killers:

“Tell the law, my Uzi weighs a ton

I walk like a warrior,

from them I won’t run . . .

Use your mind and nine-power, get the government touch

Them boys chat-chat on how him pop gun

I got the black strap to make the cops run

They watching me, I’m watching them”

At least Common didn’t give a shout out to Mumia…as well…he is soooo over done. Its good to ‘find’ ones ‘own’ cop killer cause celeb…(his is Joanne Chesmard, a member of the Black Liberation Army, convicted in 1977 of the first degree murder of a state trooper and sentenced to life in prison. In November 1979, Chesmard escaped from prison….she probably has ALL his cds).

So this is what amounts to poetry night at America’s house?

Somewhere in Nevada, a Cowboy sits…trying to ‘rhyme’ racial quotas, entitlement programs and ‘WTF did I go wrong?’

My Sweet Embraceable You…

I am relieved. I am. One worry outta my bucket list…

Me!chelle Obama/Soetaro/Dunham, on The View proclaimed ‘I want to embrace the country that I love. The country that I know is positive and fair…’ and as a world traveller (or is that Fellow Traveler?) she knows countries.

Spain is really nice; but they have a snooty Royal family, and once you have done one $2,600 per night ‘castle’ why bother with further ’embracing?’ France has castles too…and they don’t have any ‘Royals’ butt…they do have that skinny, movie star beeotch Carla notSarkozy…so that kinda figures (as in skinny) into Me!chelle’s lack of Franco huggability factor. England…the weather and food suck, and those mean spirited (someone is still miffed at NOT being invited to THE wedding) Windsors have ALL the castles ALL the time.

So where can Me!chelle FINALLY real estate that is ‘positive and fair’ (and comes with 300 thread count sheets and beach front property?)…

Cuba…or in keeping with the whole ObamaLot ‘image’ “Cuber.”

It is totally ‘right’ (in a Socialist way) for Obama. There is no economy (the Cuban debt ceiling has decorative spinning fans); there is no industry (they sorta grow sugar cane…but Let’s MOOve will end that high carb novelty–and Buh-rock has to keep High Fructose Corn Syrup flowing for those damn Iowa caucus peeps). The peasants, ahhh…comrades…ummm, citizenry, are used to an ObamaEconomic lifestyle and for a Peso or two, would once again ‘line up’ for ‘adoring public along parade route’ photo ops. Fidel (or his was meltable likeness) is stepping down (ie., Mdme Toussaud’s won’t take anymore more Cuban Pesos for a Castro figure re-do) so there would be plenty to keep Buh-rock busy…(some Dimocratic donors could pony up some US cash–or whatever currency that will be in use next month–for a golf course or three…STIMULUS and SHOVEL ready, and Trump might even build it!!!). There are even US military servants, ‘personnel,’ there…(finally the REAL reason why Club Gitmo was kept open!)

Cuba…its not just for aging Commies any more…they will embrace middle aged wons…

Who They Fore?

WTF?!? Color me (oops!) NOT surprised. Fore ONE BILLION DOLLARS though, we WILL find out…

Barack Obama, err, Barry Dunham, ahhh, Barry Soetaro, nope…Barry Obama…mmm…Barrack Hussein Obama (or whatevs alias he is using this term) is running. Fore re-election.

Fore! More years!

Oil futures just went over $108 a barrel; food prices are going up DAILY on essential items; millions will ‘flip’ on April 19 for 50,000 McJobs (which back in the Bush years were sneered at by the elites…today…well, let’s just say McResumes are being updated)–Please Mr. Obama, can we have some more!!!

The Obots have released the first campaign video of the ReImmaculation Campaign of Chairman O…It all begins with us. Really? Us? Its telling ‘who’ THEY think ‘us’ is…err…are.

“Ed” from North Carolina…in his folksy older white guy (think a youngish Andy Griffith from the ObamaCare ads–they use ‘stock characterizations’) tells us ‘he doesn’t always agree with President Obama…’ but gosh dang it…he wants him to lead. Or read, heed, feed, err, ‘do something,’ again…

Then there is “Gladys” the Hispanic ‘mom’ from Nevada, in her well equipped maple cabinet kitchen (look, the ObamEconomy is so great I can also afford many types of fruit!) telling us she is ‘nervous’ about the election. In 2012. Gladys…in every scene (and how long was that camera crew there?) your son is playing with a pink, Nintendo DS. I’m just pointing out, you MAY have greater concerns than Barry’s reelection.

Then there is “Katherine.” She appears alone, no family, friends or multiple feline roommates shown. She is from Colorado…she tells us elections are ‘how we govern ourselves.’ She must be either a Political Science major who works in retail costume jewelry sales OR possibly a Wisconsin teacher…with a long commute. In, no doubt, a Prius.

“Alice,” from Michigan, is a matter of fact, fast talking African American woman, who like “Katherine” appears solo (do I see a pattern of the potential Obot voter ‘base’ here??? Lonely, angry, eco friendly women?) “Alice” is only too happy to share (quickly apparently, as she is on and off screen faster than a White House visitor log entry) with the viewer that ‘Obama has a job to do’ and ‘he can’t do it all himself.’ “Alice”..we would ALL be happier if he would do NONE of ‘his job’ put the country on auto pilot (or even just let Hillary keep taking the 3 a.m. calls).

But my absolute favorite Obot ‘version of us US’ is “Mike.” A white, college student from New York…who all but giggles as he states he ‘really couldn’t vote for Obama the first time…’ OH REALLY? Why do I get the ‘vibe’ from “Mike” that he DID vote for Obama the first time…several dozen times…and that he proudly plans to again. And again. This time. ACORN or Organize for America much, Mikey?

So to the ONE BILLION DOLLAR ad team of political gurus, geniuses, and Kool-Aid imbibers, America is dim witted, folksy old white guys; wealthy Hispanics who purchase cross gender electronics and fresh produce; angry, lonely white and/or black women; and rich white college kids who are ACORN volunteers.

Yep…they got the ‘base’ settled…Fore!!! playing thru!!!

Can’t wait fore video number two. “Its Up to Us, The Sequel” maybe that one will have a black guy in it…the one that resides at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Fore!!!

Whi’sss’tle While You Work…

To make America anything but ex’ccc’eptional and the ‘shining ‘ccc’ity on the hill’.

Some blush; Pinocchio had that nose growing issue; but when Chairman Obama really starts dishing the whoppers (lies…not the burger of the same name that Me!chelle does not approve of) the ‘sss’ hiss grows…the bigger the lie…the longer the hiss.

Recent hi’sss’tory will bare this out.

Coalition effort’sss’…to e’sss’tablish a no fly zone…we ‘ssss’tand with the rebel’sss’ …looking for democra’ccc’y…and of course, ye’sss’ I know my Barracket’sss’ ‘sss’uck.

It called sibilants…the whistling sound Dear Leader makes. Con’sss’tantly.

Wikipedia describes it thusly:

A sibilant is a type of fricative or affricate consonant, made by directing a jet of air through a narrow channel in the vocal tract towards the sharp edge of the teeth. Strident refers to the perceptual intensity of the sound of a sibilant consonant. A strident sound could be described as harsh, insistent, and discordant. In phonetics and acoustics the term sibilant is also used to describe the articulatory or aerodynamic mechanisms that produce strident noise. By analogy, the terms shibilant and thibilant are used to refer to specifically postalveolar sibilants and non-strident analogues, respectively.

PERCEPTUAL INTENSITY? Describes, to me, more than just his annoying speechifying patterns. More like the lack of intensity, believe or fundamental belief, the whistles are just ‘phoned in’ around golf, vacays, date nights, more golf, White House parties, and basketball. Its all optic’sss’…read off of teleprompter’sss’ its STRIDENT NOISE designed to lull the great unwashed ma’sss’e’sss to think Duh Won is doing anything of note about anything.

I wonder if Mr. Obama ever had any sort of speech therapy to try and correct this? Maybe it is in his academic tran’sss’cript’sss’?

Oh maybe that’sss’ why they have been kept hidden.



So…Moammar…you think you are having a bad stretch of luck with those ‘rebels’ from Benghazi (is there a BenGay factory there?) and the bros in the Muslim Brotherhood wanting you ‘out’ and all…but…its not like your Barrackets suck.

Hello…falling faster than Duh Won’s approval ratings are his Barracketology standings. Last weekend, he was in the top 3 percent of all Barracketologists…this weekend…’W. T. F?…You want audited?’

How embarrassing when the Hoopstar in Chief EPIC FAILS in the ONLY thing he seems interested in…college basketball. Imagine…having a waaay cool white (is that RAAACIST?) board complete with the Presidential Seal (the official White House won…not the HopeyChangey won) and all of your Barrackets are there for the entire world (even Pravda…but they are taking “liberties” with the all knowing Al Jazeera feed) to see. And YOUR Final Four unravels…like a cut down net on March 31st.

They were ALL number one (err, won) seeds.

First Pitt fell to upstart Butler (the Sarah Palin of college hoops). Pitt, a Pennsylvania state school, in the liberal northeast. The Buckle, if you will, of the Rustbelt. Okay…if a numero uno pick has to fail for Dear Leader…let it be Pitt.

But wait…Duke…Duke…of the conservative state of North Carolina; kinda, sorta Catholic; a private school that charges about a gazillion dollars a year tuition…dropped like a Tomahawk over Tripoli to Arizona. Hmmm…Coach K…went to West Point…and Arizona…McCain donorships anyone??? A Vast Right Wing (Guard) Conspiracy???

Then…the unthinkable.

Barky lost Ohio. Or actually OSU lost to Kentucky. Now Ohio is a state university…but…its Ohio. A swing state…a state EVERY winning President carries. Until…the Curse of Buh-Rock.

Rut roh…

If I lived in Kansas…I would head towards Canada. You should be safe…I don’t think you know who ‘does’ hockey.

UPDATE, UPDATE, UPDATE!!! The LAST pick, Kansas…the chosen one of the CHOSEN WON went down. To Virginia Commonwealth. Even when it doesn’t matter…EPIC. FAIL.

And…my advice about heading towards Canada…I dunno know about that anymore. Barry might be so depressed that he forgets Libya, Syria and the rest of the Middle East…and just say ‘screw it’ today we take the North Country.

Butler…you read it here first. The Sarah Palin of the NCAA.


When the going gets tough…the tough get planes in the air and bomb the tanks of ruthless dictators…

  • Ooops, THAT is Nicholas Sarkozi. Or they can call a ‘sit down’ with a US journalist and proclaim, multiple times ‘that they are done.’ Oh wait, THAT is Hillary Clinton.

    The ‘Leader’ (taking a que from those whacky fellow Democrats in Wisconsin) that choses to ‘cut, run and Blame it on Rio’ is that maven of Barracketology (and apparently not much else), Barry O’Bama (hey…he still wants to go to Ireland).

    After promising to lower the seas (Japan anyone?), calm the planet (lets see New Zealand, China, again…Japan), and go 32 and 0 in March Madness (two words Barky, Virginia Commonwealth!) Duh Won is having some ‘troubles.’ So what else to but flee to Rio…where he says he is ‘looking’ for jobs. In every beach cabana and state dinner between there and Monday.

    Not to worry though…they have cable (ESPN) down there…and the natives have welcomed our Dear Leader Warmly…

    Those gals are happy to have the US _resident(?) in Brazil…they had VCU over G-Town.

    Does the Mothership Have Four Wheel Drive?

    Or at least all-season radials on the landing gear?

    Because the ‘Rev-rhund’ Louis Farrakhan is coming to Pittsburgh’s August Wilson Community Center tomorrow evening (Friday, March 11):

    In addition to two solid days of heavy, flood producing rains (hey Louie’s friend Jeremiah Wright’s parishner only referenced ‘stopping the rising oceans’ and NEVER mentioned anything about lowering Three Rivers) the percipitation is set to turn to at least a half a foot of heavy snow (white stuff!?! RAAACIST!!!) accumulation.

    Ought oh…that could cause travel problems even if flying non galactic business class commercial. Like an AlGore GloBull Worming blizzard postponed testimonial to Congress, its easy to see that the heavens are not amused.

    Who knew ‘the joos’ control the weather?

    The Nation of Islam leader (and snappy dresser) is set to be the keynote speaker at an Urban Radio simulcast of the Bev Smith Show on the topic “The Disappearing Black Community and How Can We Get It Back?”

    Ms. Smith invited Farrakhan, along number three ranked House Democrat, noted Civil Rights Leader (and hearing ‘impaired’ co-parader with Nancy Pelosi, her 48 pound gavel, Steny Hoyer and dozens of other ObamaCare revelers) South Carolina’s James Clyburn to discuss this important topic. At least one other ‘invited speaker’ (Melanie somebody) has backed…err cancelled out.

    For her efforts, Ms. Smith (herself a former Pittsburgh television personality) has been sensitively visited by all three locals TV network affiliates most senior African American on air personality…and in each interview Smith has glossed over any and all mentions of Farrakhan’s well known anti-semitism and/or ‘lack of fondness’ for the melanin challenged population. No…his message, to Smith and her 29 station radio network, is all good. Apparently ‘other’ noted African-Americans just weren’t ‘qualified’ to speak on the issue. Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas, nope; retired Luitenant Colonel and now Congressman Alan West, no ways. Entrepreneur turned Presidential hopeful Herman Cain? What could he bring to the discussion? Apparently nothing.

    How bad of luck for any city to have the politicos of MSNBC, the UFO watchers of the Sci-Fi network arrive on the same day as the Winter Storm experts of the Weather Channel?

    Hey Bev, the Steelers lost the Super Bowl…wasn’t that bad enough?

    (MaryOhSoContrary will update this thread with a post ‘Calypso and the Blizzard’ report Saturday…weather, electricity and galactic conditions permitting.)


    …This Mortal Coil

    Oh that Will Shakespeare…so ahead of his time. “Doth shuffle(d) off this mortal coil…” I guess now my days are REALLY numbered…but in a poetic, energy efficient way.

    Who knew Hamlet could be quoted in response to energy saving, demonic (yes, demonic) CFL bulbs?

    I broke one.

    I didn’t mean to.

    It was an accident.


    Do I need to lawyer up?

    For the record, I did NOT purchase the CFL…it came with the floor model lamp I bought from Home Depot…so they, obviously will be a co-respondent/defendant in any and all litigation.

    After attempting to rally from my recent killer bout of flu turned bronchitus turned heebeegeebees turned walking pneumonia, I thought it was about time to pack away my Snowmen (before they became pals with either the Leprechauns and/or the Easter Bunny–though that has happened in the past–but rest assured NONE have ever met up with Uncle Sam or any firecracker replica).

    As I have stated many, many times, NO GOOD ever comes from housecleaning. In returning a lamp to its usual pre-mini-Christmas tree locale, I removed a lampshade (for ease of transport…I am still woozy) and I had to remove the CFL (or as Mark Steyn calls them ‘Curly Fry Lightbulb’) to unscrew the sconce thingy and I placed the demonically possessed bulb on its side…

    And it didn’t so much roll as PROPEL itself (Suicide Bulber?) off the table onto the floor.

    Even the dog knew it was a bad thing…and he attempts to snack upon worn baseball socks. Maybe because it was the bad word(s) I yelled or maybe my frantic run for plastic grocery bags (both things HE sees when he has an ‘accident’) but he even backed off.

    It broke into six pieces. Six! Numerology anyone?

    So I pick up the pieces holding my breath; forgetting EVERYTHING Steyn so humorously advised for clean up…just where are playing cards, a respirator mask, or undocumented, hunky radio hosts when you need one? Placed the pieces in a plastic bag; knotted that bag shut; put that bag in another bag; grabbed wet paper towel; held my breath some more; placed the mercury ladened paper towels I used to wipe the floor in the second bag that I put the first bag into; placed those bags in a multitude of other bags (all while my shelter rescued, 70 pound big galunk of a canine gave me that “look” the one that I know he is thinking ‘Just damn. Why couldn’t I have been adopted by Betty White?’

    Some day future archeologists, scouring landfills will ‘find’ my baggage. That ball of Contrarian rolled plastic will survive the nuclear winter and/or my trash pick up day.

    So after I played Hazmat EPA clean up site, we both sat…the dog looking at me; me looking at the floor (no chemical chain reaction nor any sort of fission occurred but you can never be too careful)…waiting for either the Grim Reaper or Al Gore.

    I guess we will be okay…though the room DID grow dim (yes, the lack of a lamp will do that…but follow me here for the drama folks); and my breathing was labored (but I am an asthmatic recovering from some respiratory ailment and I had been thinking of Mark Steyn…so that could explain MOST of the breathlessness)…now…I just need to ponder my mortal coil.

    And stock up on incandescent bulbs.

    Billy Shakespeare and Betty White would, I think, both approve.

    Stink Bugs…

    An entomological nuisance due to one world commerce? An irritating annoyance? Or…SOMETHING MORE NEFARIOUS???

    For the uninformed, here is what Penn State University has to say about them:

    Native to China, Korea, Taiwan and Japan…but I don’t live in any of those places…but their Brown Marmorated Stink Bugs have come to live with me. In a cold, snowy suburb of Pittsburgh.

    For the record, these Pentatomidaes STINK if you crush them…ergo their common name, Stink Bugs.

    There was a huge infestation of the ‘stinkers’ in the eastern US this past Fall. They were an icky, smelly irritation…that caused (I swear) irritation when they land upon you and ‘bite’ (or is it a bite?) They made my dog sick to his stomach (ok, he is NOT THAT BRIGHT but he thinks he protecting us from the little brown interlopers).

    I had kinda forgotten them…until putting up Christmas decorations, and I found TWO INSIDE a Rubbermaid bin that holds our ornaments. Ok, I am a reasonable person…its not a water tight seal. I guess they got in…

    Then, a couple weeks ago, where I work, on our big glass picture window, as the temp rose to about 40 and icicles started melting…STINK BUGS on the warm glass. Now, because they do smell, it is recommended that you flush them when you get them…but at work, the bathroom is in the back of the building, and once I get them isolated I opt to toss them outside. In the cold.

    Here is my Contrarian STINK BUG study findings…when flicked outside, the shield shaped ‘bugs’ land on their backs. Always. They are top heavy. So…bugs, tossed outside, landing on their backs, should be found later in the day, still on their backs. Dead. Right?


    The flip over to right themselves…and they march IN DIRECTION FROM WHENCE THEY WERE FLIPPED…like a stinky homing device. Do they make it back in? I (in the interest of science) plan on attempting (I am so brave) at tag (ok, mark their grayish light brown shells) with a red Sharpie.

    Why am I taking on this Leap of Science?

    Last Friday night at my Pinochle Club, one of my friends, (I’ll call her ‘Carol’ to retain her anaminity) showed us BITE MARKS on her neck from a stink bug that had infiltratred her home. In February. She also noted that her grandson (in another house, Township) had like 8 of them in his room. ‘Carol’ and the rest of us, found this odd…

    So yesterday, in a move that reinforces my theory that no good ever comes from housekeeping, I changed sheets. I took the ‘used’ ones off, and put clean, folded well over a week ago, sheets on the beds. TWO STINK BUGS flipped out of the folded, clean sheets?

    How did they get there? When did they get there? The sheets came out of the dryer…and were folded (by me, who else here would do THAT thankless task) and put away. In two different closets in the house.

    It gets worse.

    They don’t burn. At least not when exposed to the heat from gas logs. They just darken and get a weird, metallicy looking finish to their shells. They made it into our fireplace…(once again, in the Name of Science, Bill Nye has nothing on me–I plan to accumulate several stink bugs, and do a little research, outside, using a metal vessal and lighter fluid–thats all I’ll say) Now my fireplace does have a flue, so in theory, kind of an open space…so my paranoia isn’t that intense…but I am starting to question if they are REALLY bugs.

    They came from China. Haven’t we bought ‘stuff’ from China for generations…but all of a sudden, ‘they’ show up. Now. Why? Chicoms? New World Orderists? Soros heavily invested in Orkin? Maybe AlGore will even tell us ‘they come from Globull Worming.’

    I plan on investigating, doing my own experiments, and reporting back (unless of course the ‘experiment’ gets outta hand and Casa de Contrary takes on smoke damage). Any STINK BUGS experience you have, please record here.

    For science!

    I’m a Birther, Your a Birther? Wouldn’t YOU Like to be a Birther, Too?

    Leave it to the soon to be leaving Gibberish one (and just when IS his departure date??? Coinky dink that Keefy Olberwomyn is now ‘FREE”? but thats for another post…) . Yep, Gibbles let go one of his ‘bits’ today. On Barry Soertaro’s Birth Certificate:

    Apparently, GAZILLIONS of Americans (or are they?) ‘SAW’ Barry “YEARS” ago and KNEW HE WAS BORN IN HAWAII. Did he really have his ‘Birth Certificate plastered on his forehead’ as once threatened and I missed it? Or are there ‘special’ Americans who can ‘divine’ such things (well at least when Divinity’s like wannabe Messiahs are involved). Because in my experience, even ‘little’ things like youth sports REQUIRE ‘raised seal’ Birth Certificates…but it appears, that the Bar (starting in Illinois) was ‘lowered’ on vetting all things Duh Won such that 12 year old, sand lot pitchers are held to a higher standard than that of Reader of the Free World.

    In the future, I can envision the ‘Soetaro Line.’ Like the Mendoza Line of Mediocrity…(the low point statistically where one can still be called a Pro baseball player) the Soetaro Line of Authenticity will be a combination OFFICIAL validation based upon psychic readings, crayon drawings, and ‘feelings, woe, woe, woe feelings’ that the applicant is certified to do ANYTHING from playing Little League short stop, to entering an Ivy League school to carrying the Nuclear Football.

    I would have called it the ‘Gibberish Line’ but that one involves lining up neat piles of excrement…and only those ‘Soetarized’ graduates of Journalism School (wink, wink) need apply it.

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