The Sarah Inside the Liberals' Heads

Behold, the mighty Iowahawk. A sample:

Knockity knock!

 

Oh hi there! I was out shooting caribou on the Arctic Cat and saw your synapse lights on, and so I said to myself, "now, gosh darn it, Sarah, you've been living inside this nice person's cerebral cortex for, what is it, almost two years now? By golly, it's about time you dropped in at their frontal lobe with a plate of your famous homemade Alaska welcome wagon cookies and introduced yourself." So anyhoo, I sure hope you like 'em. Don't want to give out a family recipe, but the secret ingredient is baby seal. I clubbed 'em fresh this morning!

 

Oh my goodness... you look kind of confused. I get that a lot! You were probably thinking, "hey, I only wanted to move next door to Sarah Palin -- now what in the goshdarned heck is she doing inside my brain?" Well ya see, the deal is I'm not Sarah, but boy I gotta tell ya, we sure do get mistaken all the time! No, I'm just a plain ol' homunculus Sarah Palin that your own id created to sublimate your deep-seated psychosexual neuroses. Or so those egghead books say, anyway. But if you ask me that sure sounds like a lot of elite Anti-America liberal professor gobbledegook! By the way, your id says hi.

Read the whole thing.

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Tweeting Financial Armageddon with Iowahawk

The always brilliant Iowahawk tweets the number of calamities that will befall us if the debt limit isn't raised. This one is just too horrible to contemplate:

Cowboy poetry utterly lacking in metre.

Even Sesame Street won't be immune:

Sesame Street descends into Mad Maxian anarchy; Oscar the Grouch fashions shivs out the letter J and the number 4

Read the whole thing.

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Iowahawk Generously Provides A Forum for a Complaint About Holiday Air Travel

We've all had the experience of holiday air travel at some point or other and it can either go very smoothly or it can be the trip from Hell. Iowahawk has generously provided Umar Farouk Abdulmuttalab, the would-be Fruit-of-the-Loons bomber a forum to relate his holiday jihad travel horror story, where he stopped just short of going to Hell. No worries though, he'll get there eventually.

When the flight to Detroit started boarding, the concierge told me to keep quiet and he would take care of the check-in. The US State Department agent asked to see my passport, and the concierge explained that I was a Somali refugee. So she looks at her computer screen and says, "um, I'm afraid there's a problem, this passenger's name is on a watch list." Oh, great. Looks like my dad is playing Mr. Buzzkill again, just because I took that semester off from Oxford to go backpacking in Yemen. So I showed her my official State Department visa.

So I'm like, "honey, do I look like I'm a US military veteran?"

"No."

"Do I look like I'm some sort of right wing anti-tax teabagger?"

"No."

"Do I look like anybody else on the DHS terrorism danger list?"

"No, but..."

"Then I suggest that unless you want a nasty anti-discrimination lawsuit on your hands, you'd best give me an aisle seat. With extended legroom."

That shut her up

Read the whole thing. It's Iowahawk. You know it will be hilarious.

(via Instapundit)