Several Dinosaurs and One Asshole.

I went to visit the Washington DC area to see my nephew Chuck. I hadn't been to see Chuck and his wife, Jun since I was best man at his wedding a few years ago. Since then they've had two children whom I'd never met. It was high time I got up there to see them.


I always say that I'll steer clear of the Smithsonian Institution when I go up there. I mean...how many times can I look at all of those fossils? But like a junkie trying to free himself of the needle, I always go back. There's something about those giant critters that calls to me. I can't help myself.

Zeuglodon, ancient whale.

As usual, the museum had been changed around somewhat since my last visit. It's not a static place, and always remains one of the finest natural history museums I've ever seen. Not the best, but pretty close. We looked at a few of the newer exhibits, but there I was again, just as when I was in grade school, standing next to all of those dinosaur bones gazing at those gigantic critters done in by intrasolar planetesimals and Mr. Extinction. Even now, at 52, they make me feel like a little six-year-old standing in awe, imagining a world filled with sauropods and theropods.

Me and my childhood pal, T rex.

On the way to the museum we had been forced to detour wide around the front of the White House. Something was going on, or was about to happen and the cops wouldn't let us walk in front of it. So we had to detour wide and took the opportunity to visit the Department of the Interior where I picked up a giant butt-load of brochures for most of our National Parks.

I almost hate to post this one. It might get someone in trouble. But fuck it. If they had the balls to pin it up there, the least I can do is acknowledge it. This was in the office of the National Park Service in the Dept. of the Interior Building just down the street from the White House, currently inhabited illegally by that unelected shithead, W. Moron Bush. The poster says: "Protect the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge". Right on!


The Evil Bastard Hisownself. Beelzebub never had it so good.

 

With a much heavier pack on Chuck's shoulders, we headed toward the Smithsonian and were stopped by the approach of a huge and heavily armed motorcade and the reason for the detour: Dick the Prick Cheney, our asswipe mass murdering VP was headed to the Moron-in-Chief's digs. So we stood on the corner while our second (wink)-in-command zoomed past, his various escorts armed to the freaking teeth. Imagine a nation in which our head boys are scared dickless of the resident population. Imagine the good old Puke Ess of Ay.

I sit here and wait for Obama to rescue our worthless asses. I'm not quite ready to greet Mr. Extinction, even if we did invite our very own brainless planetesimal down on ourselves.

Dino disco.