I have had some issues with Rep. Anthony Weiner (D-NY) in the past, but holy cow is he ever full of sense right here. When he says that all the arguments against trying Khalid Shaikh Mohammed on American soil make us look “frightened and scared” to the rest of the world he is absolutely correct. Unfortunately, all the people who are making those arguments are the same people who made a big point of bellowing about how they didn’t care what the rest of the world thought about us during the whole Bush presidency. I can’t imagine that they give a shit now that we look like GIANT FUCKING PUSSIES WHO CANNOT CROSS THE STREET WITHOUT WETTING OUR PANTS. Which, you know, we are.

Ladies, I bring you some unfortunate news. I know all you want to do is birth that baby you think is going to complete you and make your life full of purpose, but the thing you need to know is that your ovaries are decaying even more rapidly than previously suspected. Are you 30 or over? Uh oh. A new study shows that most of your eggs are already gone, and the ones that are left aren’t really that good. You will probably NEVER HAVE THAT BABY. There, there. No, shhh, I know. Chin up, sweetie, it’s okay. I’m sure that career you’ve been busy building will more than compensate for the overwhelming feeling of emptiness and lack of meaning that failing to achieve the most important goal of womanhood usually results in. Maybe you should just shift your focus to trying to get married. I mean, sometimes that does still happen to a woman over 30, right? But you should probably buy lots of cosmetics for that extra edge, just in case.

“Jury finds confessed killer Scott Roeder guilty of first-degree murder in shooting death of Kansas abortion provider Dr. George Tiller,” says the Washington Post. Deliberations took all of 37 minutes, his “justifiable homicide” claim speedily rejected.

With Valentine’s Day nearly upon us, you may be looking for a lovely pink drink to serve your beloved.

This is not that drink.

This is the drink you make when you want to get your beloved utterly blotto on Valentine’s Day (ANAL). But let’s be honest, shall we? You won’t be serving this to your paramour, you unlovable piece of shit, you’ll be making it for the sad, sad SINGLE AND READY TO MINGLE party you’re desperately trying to convince yourself is exactly-EXACTLY! I’D HAVE IT NO OTHER WAY! ME? I’M SOOOOO GLAD I’M SINGLE!-how you want to be celebrating Valentine’s Day.

It’s fine! I’m not judging! (I’m judging.)

The first thing you’re gonna do is get a bag of ice. Yes, you need to actually BUY A BAG OF ICE. I know, the horror. You’ll get over it. Now take your bag of ice and drop it on the floor. Pick it up. Drop it again. Pick it up. Drop it again. Keep doing that until your bag of ice can no longer menace the Titanic, and then dump the whole thing into a plastic bucket.

(Wait, sorry what? Your floors? Oh honey. If you’re worrying about your floors? You should not be serving this punch in your home.)

Okay, where were we? Yes, right-the plastic bucket. Now listen, if you’re gonna try to talk to me about some sort of “punch bowl” bullshit you can just get out of here right now. One does not serve Pinky Panty Pulldown Punch in a lovely bowl. One serves it from a plastic bin. You know where you buy plastic bins? The hardware store. (Pick up some spackle while you’re there; you’ll need it tomorrow. Trust.)

Into your bucket goes your ice. Over your ice goes two handles of vodka, and listen closely because this is important, you’re to use the cheap stuff. Like, the stuff that comes in the plastic bottles and costs ten bucks. Don’t challenge me on this, okay? It’s my damn recipe. If you’re trying to make this punch with Grey Goose you’ve probably also ignored my wishes and you have your ancestral silver punch bowl out and you know what? You’re an uptight pussy who never gets laid and likely suffers from a surgical-grade case of hemorrhoids.

Then you’re gonna add your beer. Yes, beer. Beer and vodka, right. Yeah, there’s beer in the punch. (Three times is the precise number of times you’ll need to repeat “there is beer in the punch” in order for people to understand you.) How much beer? A 12-pack or so. If you drink one or two along the way no worries! And actually? 12 beers is a bit much, so toss in 9 or 10 of ‘em and call it even. I’m really hoping at this stage in the game you’re not even going to ask me what kind of beer to use, but in case that’s what you’re planning to do here’s the answer, sport: THE FUCKING CHEAP SHIT. Jesus. Do I have to explain everything to you?

Next you’re going to add a 2 liter bottle of ginger ale. The type matters not. It’s just ginger ale.

You still with me? Okay! The last step is super, super important. Dump in about half a large container of powdered pink lemonade mix and stir the whole mess together using a wiffle ball bat. Why a wiffle ball bat? Because it’s my world, and you’re just living in it. (If your name is Katie Baker-Bakes or if you’re wearing fleece as you read this, you can substitute a lax stick. Totes acceptable.)

While you’re stirring-and it’ll get frothy what with all that carbonation so don’t get too aggro with your stirage, right?-you’ll need to bless the punch in some way. If you’re a smart, you’ll chant “double, double toil and trouble.” If you’re a cool, you’ll rap, “I did it like this, I did it like that, I did it with a wiffle ball bat soooooo….”

I am neither of those things so I usually just flash my tits and scream “GOD BLESS, THE PUNCH IS READY!”

AND NOW IT IS TIME TO DRINK. And drink you will! Because this stuff? Tastes like candy in a cup. And it will FUCK. YOU. UP.

You will hang from the chandelier. If there isn’t a chandelier to hang from you will craft one out of empty Solo cups and year-old issues of New York magazine. You will find that you know all the words to the Sam Kinison version of “Wild Thing.” You will do the worm in a sorochka that you just happened to have lying around the house. You will get in an oatmeal fight. You will wrestle a deaf tiger. You will kick your friend across a room into the Christmas tree you still haven’t taken down. You will French braid a man’s chest hair because you can. You will sing “Fat-Bottomed Girls” and intersperse breaks in the lyrics with a cries of “I LOVE FAT CHICKS.” You will stick your fist in the lasagna.

You will, quite simply, have the best fucking night of your life.

And in the morning when you wake up with the worst-and I do mean THE WORST-hangover of your life, you will raise your fist to God (you won’t need to shake it, as it will already be shaking) and curse my name.

Jolie Kerr (a pen name) really just wants everyone to have a good time.

A recently laid-off “Tonight Show” writer-apparently there was some stuff that happened with that program?-offers advice to the newly unemployed.

Harold Ford’s Merrill Lynch Vacation Impoverishes Him!

“Now I’ve taken a 45-day unpaid leave of absence from my job at Merrill Lynch. It’s not right to draw a salary when I’m out every day campaigning. Fortunately, I’ve still got a little NYU teaching job and some MSNBC, so for a while I think I can put food on the table.”
-That’s New York’s would-be Senator Harold Ford, just stone cold being an ass.

Paramedics on Prison Island are calling for a ban on pool cues and glass ashtrays in pubs to prevent attacks. The government of Queensland, Australia, had previously “banned glasses from some pubs and clubs to stop so-called ‘glassing’ attacks,” but enterprising assailants have simply turned to other tools at hand in their apparent war against ambulance workers, approximately 150 of whom were assaulted in the last year. While Queensland’s government has indicated that it is willing to consider further legislation, but local publicans are less convinced.

“I think if we’re going to start going down the path of banning pool cues and glass ash trays, we’ve really got to look at the credibility of our arguments here and what we’re trying to achieve,” says one. “Because are we going to then start asking females to not wear high-heeled stilettos? Are we going to ban bar stools and tables so we’re all standing around? And are we going to ask you to leave your keys outside the venue? To me, it’s absolutely absurd.”

I kind of love that he can immediately name all the other options with which one can abuse an emergency medical technician. They’re crafty, these people!

Four. And. A. Half. Hours. Until. Erykah Badu. Leaks. Her. Own. Album. (I’m interested in a business discussion of her process??? Can you even call this a leak? But also OMG, I can barely think.) UPDATE: just a track. Sigh.

God, the news is bad. Bin Laden is calling for “drastic solutions.” (More drastic?!) The Italian mafia has been sinking cargo ships full of radioactive waste in the Mediterranean. Paul Krugman should basically start ending his pieces on the administration’s economic policy with “but I just saved a bunch of money on car insurance.” But know hope: I think we may have found the answers to all these problems, and more: New Orleans rap kingpins Ronald and Bryan “Baby” Williams Williams, cofounders of Cash Money Records, have started an “environmentally friendly” energy company, Bronald Oil & Gas.

From the website:

Bronald Oil & Gas, LLC is an independent oil and gas company focused, on the exploration, production and development of oil and gas reserves from conventional and unconventional formations. The Company is initially focused on exploration and development properties in Osage County, Oklahoma, as well as in Texas, Louisiana and Florida in the United States and in Central America. Bronald’s long-term strategy is to grow through development and via the acquisition of prospective acreage that complements its existing assets and exploits the abilities of the Company’s technical resources. Bronald is committed to working cooperatively with governments and private enterprise to recover energy from known oil and gas reserves throughout North and Central America in an environmentally friendly manner. Bronald intends to utilize both historically successful technologies and means, as well as new innovations and technology, to recover energy resources in both and economic and environmentally efficient manner. Bronald is committed to preserving the environment, promoting worker safety and maximizing the potential output of various oil and gas assets.

To commemorate his commitment to the company, Baby got a tattoo of an oil derek on his head. Rap might just save us yet.

Here is a possible explanation for why some Asians turn red when they drink alcohol. It involves rice wine!