Panic Buying in the UK

Weeks after the event, the effects of Hurricane Katrina finally reach the shores of my little island. An increase in fuel prices, primarily due to the crippling effect on US refineries caused by Katrina, has caused talk of blockades of refineries here in the UK to force the government to reduce fuel duty.

For the second time in five years, drivers are queueing for hours in order to fill up their tanks - and this time, we're paying a ridiculous 98 pence a litre. The most amusing aspect of this mess is the strenuous denials from industry heads that there is any panic buying going on. Speaking as someone who waited for over 30 minutes to get into the forecourt yesterday - and was then told that I was the 'lucky last one' to get to use the pump before it was turned off, I call bullshit.

Protesters from the Fuel Lobby have given the government a deadline of tomorrow to meet and discuss their grievances - the most pressing of which must be the 20% increase in the price of fuel at the pump we've seen in recent months.

If the government refuse to reduce fuel duty - which makes up around 48% of the prices of fuel - protesters will cripple the supply routes around the country, including a general blockade of refineries, protests in Dover and that perennial favourite of protesters everywhere, a go slow on the M4.

I for one am all for it. I've got a full tank and a big grudge. It seems I spend most of my wage just keeping my car on the road, and I'm sick of it.

Heh. This post seems oddly prescient today.

Service Announcement

Big changes are afoot at House Sortapundit. After two years of slogging away at Blogger I've decided to move to cushier digs. Provisionally I'll be packing up and heading to a Typepad site, but if anyone has any suggestions for a better host with the same low, low prices I'd appreciate the suggestions.

Lest We Forget - Angels in Disguise II

Bravest and Finest


Once again, original artwork shamelessly stolen from Cox and Forkum and then poorly modified. Original here.

Jeff Goldstein vs Ace: Face Off

Ace, Karol and Jeff had some very entertaining most overrated film of all time threads this weekend. While Karol managed to keep her comments on-topic, Jeff's quickly turned into a most underrated film thread, while Ace started his own underrated thread to accompany the other one.

Now, if you're a regular reader of Jeff and Ace, both seem to be disturbingly proud of their taste in obscure, some would say plain bad, movies. I'm sure Jeff, for instance, just makes up half the titles he recommends (prove me wrong, Jeff, ya crazy sum'bitch).

What I want to do, though, is judge these two bloggers on their readers. They were sked to name their most underrated movies of all time, so let's put them to the test.

Here's what I did. I took the first 25 recommendations from each site and ran them through metacritic.com, a site that collates reviews from almost 50 daily newspapers, dedicated industry magazines and so on (ranging from Rolling Stone to my old employer the Wall Street Journal) and infers an average percentage for each film. But don't listen to my drivel. Here's an excerpt from their about us page:

Since its inception, Metacritic has provided a cross-section of reviews from a carefully-screened group of the most respected critics for the latest (as well as earlier) releases in film, video, music, books and games in a clean, user-friendly manner. And only Metacritic uses Metascores to combine all of the individual critic scores into an overall grade for each item, so users can gauge the critical consensus at a glance. In fact, our scoring system is so unique (unique, complicated--what's the difference?) that it merits its own explanation page.

Of course, some movies haven't made it to Metacritic yet. What to do, what to do? Of course! We went to the Internet Movie Database to see what the viewing public thought of these movies. IMDB reader reviews work on a 0-10 star rating system, possibly the finest rating system known to man (percentages give too much wiggle room, as you well know). In keeping with the, ahem, scientific method I converted these rating to a percentage score.

Anyway, the "winner" will be the blogger whose readers have picked those movies that receive the lowest average score. Of course this is probably the least scientific test in the history of man, but there is no accounting for taste. All we can do is discuss the most poorly rated movies. As always, I leave it up to the reader to judge the quality of the movies in question.

Of course, regardless whether you take anything from this post, it's helped me out. It reminded me just what a fucking great movie Office Space was, and I just found in for a fiver on Amazon. Kickass.

Ratings beside an asterisk (*) were obtained from IMDB user ratings. The unadorned, less fancy ratings were obtained from Metacritic.

Protein Wisdom

Cutters Way *68%
Bad News Bears 65%
Henry Fool *73%
Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore *73%
Once Upon a Time in America *82%
Tightrope *62%
Nighthawks *61%
Very Bad Things 31%
Blade 45%
Dazed and Confused 78%
About a Boy 75%
Office Space 68%
Groundhog Day 72%
American Psycho 64%
Guarding Tess *60%
Grosse Point Blank 76%
Election 82%
Amongst Friends *52%
Happiness 81%
Miller's Crossing *80%
Corrina, Corrina *61%
Copland 67%
Smile 47%
The Changeling *73%
Smash Palace *72%

Average --- 66.72%


Ace

The Thing *79%
Of Mice and Men *75%
The Iron Giant 85%
Better Off Dead *72%
Diggstown *67%
GI Jane *55%
Silver Bullet *56%
Rear Window *87%
Arsenic and Old Lace *81%
Downfall 82%
Proof 70%
Shattered *65%
Frequency 67%
Boondock Saints 44%
Ruster's Rhapsody *58%
Weird Science *62%
Dead Again 66%
Kung Fu Hustle 78%
Bubble Boy 41%
Shaolin Soccer 68%
Kung Pow 14%
Unbreakable 62%
Long Kiss Goodnight *65%
Here Come the Nelsons *68%
Robinson Crusoe on Mars *67%

Average --- 65.36%



Ouch. That was ridiculously close. Ace, in fact, saved himself by proposing Kung Pow, a movie that only garnered an average 14% from the professional movie critics. It's almost as if he knew.

And so, by it has been statistically proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the readers of Ace of Spades are more obscure than those of Protein Wisdom. They are more appreciative of critically panned movies, more steadfast in their convictions and unwilling to waver in the face of overwhelming public opinion.

Or, y'know, they just really like shit films. That, however, is a question for another day.

Four Years On

It's hard to believe that already four years have passed since 'that day'. So much has changed, not only in the wider world but also in our own lives. On 9/11/01 I was working part time in our local hospital to put myself through university. I didn't know what happened until after I got off work (I live in the UK, so this all happened mid-afternoon) and walked into town to get a paycheck advance from a local pawnbroker (OK, so I wasn't quite managing to pay for uni). The pawnbroker had a bank of TV's running along one wall, and I walked by them oblivious. I stood in line for several minutes before noticing that most of the customers in the shop were standing, slack-jawed, staring at the TV's.

After seeing the images I jumped straight on the bus and dashed home. By the time I arrived the first tower had fallen. That was basically it for the rest of the day. Myself and my family sat in front of the TV for hours, staring in disbelief at the scenes, seemingly lifted from some horrible movie. There are no words to describe the way we all felt, but none are needed. None of use needs much reminding to take us right back to that day and recall the fear and anger that brewed and boiled inside us. Today, on the fourth anniversary of that most awful of days, I have no doubt that those feelings will quickly rise again.

This year, however, I have cause for celebration. For hope. This January gone my best friend James became a father for the first time. Baby Thomas is now eight months old, and he's part of the first generation to be raised who did not have to live through that day. I hope that his generation will not be stained with the legacy of the atrocities, that he will grow up in a world in which 9/11 is a story told by his parents, something that belongs to the past - and not a shadow over his future. I hope that he will not be asked to go off to fight the enemies we made on that day. I hope they will be defeated before he has cause to worry about such things. The threat of terror is not a legacy I would like to leave for this innocent boy, and I hope with every fibre of my being that we will not have to.

Lest We Forget - Angels in Disguise

Finest and Bravest



Image shamelessly stolen from Cox and Forkum, then amateurishly modified by me. See the original, and clearly superior, image here.

When is a Crescent Just A Crescent?

Outrage was expressed today (OK, not everywhere) at the chosen design of the Auschwitz Memorial Maze, entitled Glorious Swastika, to be built in time to commemorate the 65th anniversary of the Nazi labor camp some 60 miles south of Krakow, Poland.



In an open contest hosted by the Herbert Itler Society, the winning design was proposed by Harold Immler.

"This is not about religion per se," remarks Immler, "It's a spiritual space, and a sacred place, but it's open to anyone. The word swastika, in fact, means 'happy smily place' in (mumble, mumble), and the symbol is Eurasian in origin and is actually a sign of good fortune."

Almost immediately on seeing the design, bloggers began to remark that perhaps the use of a swastika to commemorate the death of between 1 and 1.5 million Jews may be seen by some as offensive.

"Nonsense", remarked Immler. As an architect I can assure you that the design is not intended to be symbolic of anything. Rather, it is simply an arrangement of eight straight lines arranged in a cross formation, each arm of the cross with another arm running at right-angles. Surely no one could object to such an innocent design. I only chose it because there is beauty in it's simplicity. And the straight lines make it easy to mow around."

How Far Are We Gonna Take The Blame Game?

(AP - Reuters) Almost 4 years to the day after terrorists hijacked commercial aircraft and flew them into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, it has emerged that the atrocities could have easily been prevented.

40 years ago, Congress approved legislation to outlaw the possession of box cutters and other edged devices by Muslims.

The legislation, signed into law by President Johnson, was derailed in 1977 by a lawsuit led by the LABCP (League Against Box Cutter Prohibition).

"If we had kept the prohibition," says leading boxcutter legislator Bobby LaRagu, "those planes would have never been successfully hijacked. The hijackers would have been all, like, 'Everybody stay in your seats! This aircraft has been commandeered in the name of Allah!' and everyone else would have been all 'Well, where's your boxcutter, then?' and they'd be, like 'Damn you American pigdogs and your restrictive legislation!' and that'd be the end of it. OK, so maybe the in-flight movie would have been interrupted during the ruckus, but you can always pick up the plot later on. Or, y'know, rent it at Blockbuster."

LaRagu's view is endorsed by a former key senator, along with academic experts, who say a boxcutter ban is the only way to control the ornery terrorists. The senator, who requested to remain anonymous, remarked "I tell ya, these damned boxcutter nuts have got a lot to answer for."


OK, so I suck at satire. Shut up. Still, exactly how long are we gonna go on with this blame game before we actually settle down and, well, fix New Orleans? I mean, should I go and pick up some popcorn and find a comfy chair? It was 38 years ago that SOWL succeeded in halting the hurricane barrier. I'm not saying environmentalists shouldn't be blamed for many things. Clearly the majority of them are hemp-trousered, dirty haired freaks who'd be ejected from a Hare Krishna sect for being too much of a hippy. Still, it seems ludicrous to attempt to stick them with responsibility for this one.

Damned Teeth

I have wisdom teeth coming through. In fact, I've had them coming through in what seem to be fortnight long, excrutiatingly painful stages for many years now, and every time they make a dash to escape from my gums I load myself full of painkillers until I become immune from their analgesic wonders and sleep a fitful three hours a night.

Why do I put myself through this? I hear you ask. OK, I don't actually hear you, because you're probably several thousand miles away from me, and even if we were in the same room you'd probably only think it in your head. Shut up, I'm getting off track.

Anyway, here in the UK we have a national health service. Essentially we get free medical treatment for all, and we pay for this (OK, so it's not entirely free) with income tax, national insurance and all the other little ways the government bend us over and ass-fuck us until small change pours out of our mouths (by the by, petrol prices here just reached the wrong side of £1/litre (that's about $7/gallon), a lot of which consists of fuel tax). Theoretically, we can come down with any ailment, wander in to the local hospital and they'll fix us up for free - without having to worry about our insurance carrier rejecting our claim or, worse, not having insurance at all.

Of course, it doesn't quite work like that. When, earlier this year, my brother developed a series of medical problems as a result of contracting malaria while teaching in India, he was kept in hospital for over three weeks doing nothing much apart from vomiting and steadily turning skeletal with only the occasional visit from anyone with medical qualifications, and he was eventually discharged without diagnosis.

Another example. A good friend of mine, we'll call him J. to protect his pride, has for years had two small cysts - one on each side of his face - just below the jawline. They didn't look bad and never hurt, so he figured they were nothing to worry about - until this week. One of them became infected and, in the space of four days, swelled to the size of half a golf ball and filled with pus. On the second day, while it was still only tender and a little inflamed, J. visited his GP (general practitioner) who prescribed a short course of antibiotics to treat it and sent him on his way. They did nothing, and yesterday evening I got a call at work from J. asking for a ride to the hospital. When I picked him up a few hours later he was clearly shaken and proceeded to describe what he called 'the most horrific experience of my life'. I won't go into detail, but it involves an ineffective anaesthetic, a scalpel, about half a pint of blood and pus and an iodine wrap inserted into the cheek. I felt sickened just listening to it.

The problem is that when he asked if the doctor could book him in to have the other cyst removed - lest he have to go through the same disgusting and extremely painful draining process again - he was met with the reply "Not until it gets infected". The NHS is so painfully understaffed that my brother lies in hospital for three weeks and sees a doctor a grand total of twice, while my best friend can't have a routing preventative procedure unless the thing he's trying to prevent actually comes about.

All this, of course, as is routine in everything I write, has very little to do with my original point. What I was trying to say is that, even despite these painfully obvious flaws in our health service, we have it pretty good. J. was treated within 90 minutes of walking into an emergency room on a Friday night, and that's not bad in any country. So, all in all we can be fairly proud of our health service.

With one exception. Dental treatment is not covered by the NHS. Even though I contributed several thousand pounds to the government last year, without requiring any medical treatment whatsoever, if I was to present myself in an emergency room in unbearable pain from 4 wisdom teeth that are actually forcing all my teeth out of place as I write this (to the point at which I can see the dentine - the inner substance of your teeth - at the base of one of my incisors) I would be either sent home or to the emergency dentist for treatment that I would have to fork out even more money for.

Why is this? Why, in a health service in which some people manage to get free breast enlargements, surgery for impotence and even treatments for baldness (all to assist those who suffer from low self esteem and clinical depression, I am assured) I can't have my damned wisdom teeth removed?

Why is the alligator ornery? Cause he got too many teeth in his mouth. That's all I'm sayin'.

4 Meals from Chaos

Dean Esmay yesterday discussed a report by MI5 which puts forth the opinion that the UK is "4 meals away from anarchy", meaning that if the food supply was cut off we would resort to looting and such. Of course, it would never get to that with us Brits. No doubt one of us would smash the front window of our local Waitrose and then become caught in an eternal cycle of politeness that would stop us from ever entering the shop - "After you, sir." "No, I insist, after you."

I kid, of course. I find that the most mild-mannered of us are the ones who seem to lose it at the drop of a hat. No, what strikes me is that this is news at all. It just seems as obvious a statement as "smoking causes cancer" or "Marlon Brando let himself go a bit". Of course chaos would reign if we ran out of food. It's so obvious, in fact, that as soon as I read the article I put my finger on an author who wrote exactly the same opinion several years ago (that's not to say that the theme hasn't been explored many times in the past, but this particular book happened to be sitting next to my bed and I wanted to share a quote). It's Terry Pratchett, from the novel Night Watch (Doubleday):

In a few hours the shops would be expecting deliveries, and they weren't going to arrive. A city like Ankh-Morpork was only two meals away from chaos at the best of times.

Every day, maybe a hundred cows died for Ankh-Morpork. So did a flock of sheep and a herd of pigs and the gods alone knew how many ducks, chickens and geese. Flour? He'd heard it was eighty tons , and about the same amount of potatoes and maybe twenty tons of herring.

Every day forty thousand eggs were laid for the city. Every day hundreds, thousands of carts and boats and barges converged on the city with fish and honey and oysters and olives and eels and lobsters. And then think of the horses dragging this stuff, and the windmills... and the wool coming in, too, every day, the cloth, the tobacco, the spices, the ore, the timber, the cheese, the coal, the fat, the tallow, the hay EVERY DAMN DAY...

But now, in the dark, it all spun on Vimes. If the man breaks down, it all breaks down. The whole machine breaks down, he thought. And it goes on breaking down. And it breaks down the people.


If you've ever sat on the flyover of a motorway in the UK and watched the articulated lorries flow along the veins of the nation, transporting food and goods to feed every last one of us, every day, in a never-ending process, you'll laugh at MI5's projection. 4 meals? Hah. We're only a mouthful away.

What's the Big Deal?

I find it interesting that there is such objection to the confiscation of firearms in the city of New Orleans. I remember in the weeks and months following 9/11 the emergency services were vaunted, rightly so, as New York's Bravest and Finest. Today, almost 4 years to the day since so many of the American uniformed services risked and gave their lives to save innocents, many Americans balk at the idea that the New Orleans police force should be able to enforce Mayor Nagin's forced evacuation order against an unarmed public.

Let's look at the situation as it stands. The last voluntary evacuees left the city on Thursday, so logically the only citizens remaining in the city today are those who would resist evacuation, perhaps violently. OK, so the order to confiscate firearms from these people may be essentially unconstitutional, but then again so what? A third of the New Orleans police force bolted after the storm. Those who remain are the Bravest and Finest. These are people who remained to protect and serve the community in which they live - even when they came under fire themselves, even after their own homes were swept away in the storm. They deserve all the respect and support it is possible to give, and if that means that certain people temporarily sacrifice one of the freedoms they hold dear, then why not?

(Update) Volokh's Orin Kerr discusses the legalities behind the gun prohibition.

New Hurricane Scams - Get Rich Quick

Even as the bodies are being removed from the wreckage that was once New Orleans, the e-mail scammers are creeping out of the woodwork. While some have opted to prey on the kindness of the Internet community with bogus charities, others have appealed to our greed. Here's an e-mail I received today:



Please help me out in this desperate situation. I am a Mexican national and also an illegal immigrant living in the state of New Orleans of the disaster hit area of the U.S.A. I presently work as a member of a rescue team, following the event of the recent disaster in New Orleans which is caused by "Hurricane Katrina".

In a relief effort to save the lives of the indigenes, I personally made a recovery of some treasure boxes which belong to a private banking firm, here in New Orleans. These boxes which are currently in my possession were found to be containing uncountable number of defaced foreign currencies, which ranges from United States Dollars down to Japanese Yens, thus running into hundreds of millions of U.S. Dollars when converted.

I have so far decided to undisclose these funds to the "Federal Emergency Management Agency", pending my personal use, soon after this disaster as things come back to normal in New Orleans. Dear colleague, I have already made prior arrangements with a private courier services firm who will assist me to convey these boxes, out of the U.S.A. I am desperately searching for a trustworthy individual who would provide me with a valid home or business address, in outside U.S.A (particularly in Europe or Asia), where these boxes can be conveyed, so as to start immediate investment opportunities.

I am sorry, I may not be able to leave U.S.A at present due to lack of authentic travel documents, but I would like to entrust these funds in you, and I will make my way out of U.S.A as soon as the boxes are moved out of U.S.A.Thank you for taking out time to read about my problem. I look forward to your reply.Please take note you can always reply me on email: marklyford@tsamail.co.za

Your contact information will required for easy communication.

Warm Regards, markly ford.
------------------------------------


My reply to this message was as follows:




Thanks for your e-mail, Mr. Markly. I too am a cruel, nasty little b*st*rd and would love to take part in your scheme. So, what do you need? My PIN number? Access to my credit cards? I'll do anything to speed this along, as I'm eager to get my hands on the loot.

You see, I'm addicted to hookers. I just can't get enough of 'em. I like to beat them a little, too. The problem is that sometimes I get a little carried away and beat too hard. Here in the UK dumping bodies ain't as easy as it is in the US. I live on a tiny little island, so you have to pay the big bucks to the local heavies to take care of it for you. As a result I owe a few thousand pounds to a local loan shark, and he's threatened to break thumbs!

So get back in touch ASAP, friend. I see great things in our future. Keep living the dream.

Sincerely, Keith Taylor


--------------------------------

The e-mail domain of this little goon, tsamail, comes from Technikon SA, a distance learning service in South Africa. The purpose of these addresses is to give students access to lectures and classmates; to create a virtual classroom, if you will. Now what the hell are they teaching people in South Africa?

The 155th Carnival of the Vanities

Welcome to the 155th Carnival of the Vanities, the clearing house for the best writing in the blogosphere. Or, you know, a collection of links to the most awful, poorly scrawled, bigheaded tat on the planet. Depends on the week, really. Fortunately, this week has produced some real gems.

I'm sure this has already been done at some point in the illustrious past of this carnival, but I will be presenting each entry this week as a haiku, the Japanese form of poetry consisting of three lines of 5, 7 and 5 syllables. And, to be sure, they are the most shoddy haiku you ever did read. Before you judge me too harshly, though, I only ask that you sit down and try to write 50 haiku about fucking New Orleans, a lot of water and a bunch of black people swiping plasma screen TVs. Anyway, this weeks entries are presented, in the main, in the order by which I received them. Enjoy the bloggy goodness...

(Update) David Giacalone correctly points out that these aren't genuine haiku but rather verse in the 5-7-5 syllable form that we unsophisticated westerners often call haiku. You can find a helpful resource including the criteria for haiku here. Here, though, is my rebuttal (or refutation, or repudiation. These word things were never my strong suit. I like to feel the soil). Have you ever tried writing a haiku about looting of electrical goods in the present tense and including a reference to the seasons whilst at the same time creating a sense of harmony and contrast? I can barely dress myself at the best of times. And at least I didn't call the plural haikus :)

Also, while I'm here, I'd like to point out the ad box to your immediate right. I feel bad when people pay for ad space and then I stumble off and quit blogging for months. Eight Foot Llama is a small enterprise in the business of reasonably priced novelty games such as the Nacho Incident and the Penguin Ultimatum. Please consider them for your next event involving friends with strange senses of humour. Also, you can strike a blow to the heart of Toys 'R' Us and their oh-so-droll letter reversals. Viva small business!

And another thing... after waiting patiently for over two years for an Instalanche I finally get one - and it's not even a dedicated post. I swear Glenn has something against me. Maybe he fears my eloquence. Perhaps not.

And finally, I have fixed 3 broken links that directed you to a Hotmail error page instead of the intended post. Corrected. If anyone finds any more stuff wrong please leave a note in the comments or email me. Cheers.


Doctor Hartline writes
Of Man's tendency to sin
And God owns our stuff

The librarians
Steal umbrellas, the bastards
Baby Jesus weeps

Iran could get bomb
We'd be screwed good and proper
Grow some bomb proof skin

Dump the Big Easy
What about Mardi Gras, though?
We need to see boobs

Some news for grownups
Very clever. I prefer
The funny pages

Get a better job
No more orders from teen boss
The spotty fucker

Look at the gorilla
He's been eyeing up my girl
Wouldn't mess with him

Stuck in stadia
With thousands of sweaty men
So what else is new?

One dollar coins have
Ugly chicks on them. But nude
Ladies may help them

Poetic prose on
Katrina. Nice photos, too
Is that a dead guy?

Melson talks about
Appraisals for mortgages
I'll die a renter

Eating corpses after
Only days? They must have been
Quite peckish, really

Folks blame Bush a lot
He caused death, they say. Maybe
Weather was involved

Lots of money saved
On cable bill. That would buy
A lot of hookers

Looting in the South
People are hungry, I guess
Mmmmm, widescreen TVs

Bring in the Army
To take care of the people
They have real cool guns

Bush the scapegoat
He gets blamed for everything
Some of it's God's fault

So the New York Times
Talks bollocks. Who'd have thunk it?
Monkeys are smarter

Start a business blog
Earn lots of money, you will
And the chicks are hot

You can build traffic
You could host a carnival
You'll get at least five

What would happen, then
if we call them hot ladies?
I'd give them more help

Evil extremists
Knuckle dragging troglodytes
Sound like the DU

Bourbon Street is filled
A thousand saxophonists
Floating in the road

Bush is hurricane
The windy little bastard
Best impeach him now

Never heard of him
This Richard Landes fellow
Entertaining, though

What a crazy site
That is a very sexy
Vegetable, though

The satire runs thick
When a teen boy steals a bus
But forgets the bribe

I just learned today
The plural of premiums
Is premia. Cool

I always get caught
At the metal detectors
Cause I'm magnetic

These guys sound just like
The people at my Nan's church
Crazy one and all

Bush and the Lord God
In cahoots against Sheehan
And the damn Jews, too

Form a partnership
Get Reggie Jackson on board
And you're good to go

That thing in the pic
Looks like a big hairdryer
For a massive head

So mould can kill you?
Here I've been worried about
Flooding and stuff. Shit

The flamboyant ones
Remind me of Will and Grace
That annoying guy

God also gave me
A wicked case of herpes
Or was it hookers?

Give me some food stamps
I earn a fucking pittance
Thank you very much

Babies don't feel pain
I just punched a two year old
Didn't even flinch

Pundits are saying
Bring me the head of the Head
Or blame the police

The aid lottery
Cutting cheques to the victims
The mooching bastards

Give me the contract
To rebuild the Big Easy
I'll make it nuder

Looting in NO
Was it the fault of the Blacks
Dunno. You decide

Don't know what grits are
We Brits eat regular food
Like, er, blood pudding

It's the FEMA rap
Saving lives and humping ho's
I love these bitches

Lefties blame the Bush
We were screwed from the word go
Nice use of fonts, Bob

Black people loot while
White people find. works for me
I'm going 'finding'

Violence in DC
It's probably Clinton's fault
The laid back bastard

Don't demolish it
Send it to me, so I can
Use it as a bowl

Stop throwing the blame
We can all agree, I think
It's Carrot Top's fault

Next week we will be returning to House Hraka to celebrate the 3 year anniversary of the Carnival. In the meantime, you can probably entertain yourself.