Jason Mattera and Monique Stuart re-unite to pwn AARP

Our girl Monique was best buddies with Jason in college, and did the camera work on his latest project:

Michelle Malkin describes the action at Hot Air:

He presents AARP vice president Nancy Leamond with an invoice for generational theft and takes on the powerful senior lobby’s rank hypocrisy when it comes to pre-existing conditions (AARP’s main policy, Medigap, actually imposes long waiting periods on seniors who have pre-existing conditions, even though AARP reps, like liberals in general, decry the discrimination of folks with pre-existing conditions). Jason also confronts AARP on how ObamaCare will fatten their own wallets. Medigap, their $400 million cash cow, is left untouched by ObamaCare, while all other insurance providers are subjected to tighter regulation.

More at Michelle Malkin's site. By the way, Jason's book, Obama Zombies: How the Obama Machine Brainwashed My Generation, won't be released until this spring, but you can click the link and pre-order now at Amazon.com.

Belated Birthday Testimonial

Is Monique Stuart a white supremacist? If not, why is she saying nice things about me? Does her mother know?

BTW, I met Monique when she worked as an intern at the Washington Times in 2004. Two years later, she introduced me to Jason "Big Sexy" Mattera. A year after that, I sent another intern to interview Big Sexy. Should have known better . . .

Because I'm SUPREME!

My friend Chris Muir celebrates my 50th birthday with an altogether natural joke about my growing reputation as the blogospheric Brabantio. You can click the image to see the rest.

It's a free country, and people are entitled to believe what they want. And they are even entitled to write what they want -- even if what they write is wrong. Of course, as they say, you shouldn't shout "fire" in a crowded theatre, although I don't know if the Supreme Court has yet ruled on whether you have the right to shout "miscegenation" in a crowded Alabama.

OK, there I go again -- joking about something that should only be addressed seriously, such as Rachel Maddow's dream of becoming Mrs. Jason Mattera. (Remember, Rachel: Once you've had Puerto Rican, you never go back. Just ask Suzanna Logan.)

If you're under 40, you might not believe it, but people used to be able to joke about stuff like this. Before political correctness, Mel Brooks made Blazing Saddles -- "It's twue! It's twue!" -- and there were no thought police taking down notes of who laughed at the jokes. When I was in college, we laughed at Animal House -- "Mind if we dance with your dates?" -- without realizing we were violating anyone's civil rights.

Given the choice between Mel Brooks and David Brooks, who do you trust? And would you rather watch Animal House or Michael Moore's latest flop? (Hint: Which one has a topless pillow-fight scene?)

At least since third grade, my class-clown tendency to treat everything as a set-up for a punchline has been getting me into trouble. Because I am altogether naturally so facetious and sarcastic, when I actually try to get serious, people become confused. "Uh . . . heh heh . . . you're joking, right?"

Well, as I always say, the key to success is sincerity -- once you learn to fake that, the rest is easy. The altogether natural response to accusations of prejudice is to say, "Hey, wait a minute -- some of my best friends are macacas!"

Had I been advising Sen. George Allen in 2006, that might have been his official response to the smears against him, and maybe he'd still be Senator, instead of James Webb, a notorious neo-Confederate. (NTTAWWT.)

Did anyone ever credibly suggest that George Allen was prejudiced against Indian-Americans? Does George Allen recoil in horror at being introduced to Dinesh D'Souza or Ramesh Ponnuru? Did George Allen ever support any policy that might be considered discriminatory against the many South Asian immigrants and their offspring who are now proud citizens of the Old Dominion?

The implied accusation of MacacaGate -- i.e., that Senator Allen's joking reference to Democratic activist S.R. Sidarth was evidence of prejudice -- was fundamentally false, so exactly what was accomplished by the senator's subsequently disastrous Apology Tour? (Fact: In 2007, I interviewed a leader of the Virginia division of the Sons of Confederate Veterans, who explained that he and many of his comrades enthusiastically supported Webb's campaign.)

God gives us enemies for a reason, and He chastises those He loves. Israel was enslaved by the Egyptians, conquered by the Assyrians, Babylonians and Romans -- did this signify God's blessing of Israel's conquerers? God's chosen people were dispersed to the four corners of the earth after the destruction of the Temple. They were despised, oppressed and persecuted.

Had Genesis 12:3 been repealed? God forbid! For somewhere in all this misery and suffering, the Lord of Hosts had a purpose and a meaning. Yet we see through a glass, darkly, and like Job's doubting wife, many will counsel us to "curse God and die." However, we know that the very name Israel can be translated "he who overcomes."

When an inveterate joker begins to speak seriously, people become frightened: "Are you OK, McCain? Have you been getting your rest? Taking your meds?"

Don't worry, folks. I'm just fine and dandy today. As Nurse Madeleine Ochoa might say, "Affect: Bright. Mood: Expansive." It's my 50th birthday, I was denounced on "Meet the Press" Sunday and I was libeled yesterday by a syphilitic poofter. All because the Left has it in for Sarah Palin and her new bestselling memoir Going Rogue.

As my faithful accomplice Smitty has reminded us today, the occasion of his gaining co-blogger status was an event at the Heritage Foundation. Gee, I wonder what Ginny Thomas must think about all this? Do you suppose Mrs. Thomas has any reason to trust the things that liberals say about conservatives? Or do you think that perhaps Mrs. Thomas would be more inclined to trust the judgment of such of our mutual friends as Kate Obenshain, Ron Robinson and Ward Connerly?

People know me, and the people who know me will tell you one thing about me: That dude's crazy. So if worse comes to worse, I can always plead insanity.

It's my birthday -- you're welcome to hit the tip jar, you ungrateful b*stards -- and there's no need to belabor the obvious any further. However, if you'll read through Smitty's post from this morning, you'll notice the photo of my inscription on the title page of Donkey Cons. As always, below my signature, I included the citation to a Bible verse:

Seest though a man diligent in his work? He shall stand before kings, and his place shall not be among ordinary men.
-- Proverbs 22:29

Claim the promise, as they say. Step out on faith. If you doubt the promise, go to Christ Church in Philadelphia and see the grave of "Benjamin Franklin, Printer."

Shama-lama-ding-dong, baby!

A Mission for Jason Mattera . . .

That is, if you think you could handle this mission:

Not, that's not Hannah Giles. Lindsay Lohan says she's a lesbian, but I heard she broke up with her girlfriend, and when I saw this linked at Conservative Grapevine, it occurred to me that you're splitsville with Suzanna Logan now, so . . .

C'mon, Big Sexy. "Win one for the Gipper," eh?

Once you've got Lindsay wrapped, your next assignment . . . Well, let's just say a little birdy at 30 Rock tells me that someone's been doodling in her notebook like a sixth-grade schoolgirl.

Mrs. Jason Mattera
R. M. Mattera
Rachel Mattera
Rachel M. Mattera
Rachel Maddow-Mattera . . .

Show her some of that Brooklyn action, old buddy. IYKWIMAITYD. Because, as everybody knows, once they've had Puerto Rican, they never go back.

Big Sexy on The Hotness Gap

"Our women are hot. We have Michelle Malkin. Who does the left have, Rachel Maddow? Sorry, I prefer that my women not look like dudes."
-- Jason Mattera, at the Value Voters Summit

Doug Giles writes column about Hannah, doesn't threaten to kill me (by name)

This is very good news!

It's been quite interesting watching and reading the statements coming from ACORN and various "news" organizations about the "facts" of the Giles/O'Keefe ACORN caper. . . .

Doug then proceeds to demolish all of the MSM/ACORN lies from start to finish. He does not specifically address the "Hannah Giles bikini" Google-bombs which conservative bloggers have deployed in defending his girl from the Left's predictable Photoshop smears.

I had a long phone conversation Friday with Jason "Big Sexy" Mattera, trying to get him to explain to our mutual (muscular and very well-armed) friend, Mr. Giles, exactly what the strategy was, and why the strategy could not be explained online, but had to be joked about. IYKWIMAITYD.

Mr. Giles will probably not hunt me down and shoot me like a dog. God forbid anybody is stupid enough to try to hurt Hannah. Here's some more from Doug's column:

Oh, FYI . . . if confessing I’m a sinner, believing orthodox Christian doctrine, saluting our flag and that for which it stands, loving the Constitution, hating terrorists, being fond of guns, hunting, country and rock music while adoring freedom makes me a crazy ultra-conservative Christian lunatic then I guess I am one of those. I will put that name right next to the other name Obama's former green czar called such a person back in March (I believe he called us "a**holes").

Oh, Doug, you should read some of the things Charles Johnson has said about people like you. Or then again, maybe you shouldn't. At any rate, my own 20-year-old daughter has a T-shirt from Rock For Life, which bears a motto:

You will not silence my message
You will not mock my God
You will stop killing my generation

Six kids, Doug. You wouldn't kill a father of six, would you?

Jason Mattera, undercover

Via Hot Air:

Suzanna Logan is in Atlanta working with underprivileged children. Monique Stuart is in Washington, working with overprivileged bureaucrats. Big Sexy is undercover in Virginia, working with overactive socialists. Too bad we never got that Jello wrestling thing happening.

'Buying a ticket to see Bruno is paying money to grieve God's heart'

So says Suzanna Logan, whose summer seems sincerely dedicated to repairing her own heart. As much as she joked about "Big Sexy," it was in that laugh-to-keep-from-crying way. Or maybe that laugh-to-keep-from-hunting-him-down-like-a-dog-in-need-of-"fixing" way.

Hard to tell sometimes, y'know? Anyway, it's all my fault. I played matchmaker between Clever S. and the Unwise Latino -- hey, who you callin' racist? -- and the unfortunate consequences have grieved my heart.

A smart reporter never burns his sources, so if Big Sexy had called me the other night and, after we had discussed business, we discussed other things . . . well, Your Honor, when a professional journalist speaks hypothetically, that one little word "if" is his Get Out Of Jail Free card.

Nevertheless, there are no accidents, and Miss Logan lost an hour of sleep because she felt compelled to write this:

I'm living what I'm talking. I have an intimate understanding of what pursing God and holiness with all you've got can do to a person's life: It can 180 your direction. I'm living proof. . . .
Of course, I'll never know who reads this or what they choose to do. But God will. And, in the end, that's all that really matters.

Just an accident that at 3:20 a.m. ET, somebody clicked through from her site to mine. Just an accident I was checking my SiteMeter before going to bed myself. All of it, you see, entirely accidental.

BTW, Logan: You threw away your gangster movies? Please tell me you didn't throw away any classic '40s/'50s noir. Classic noir is . . . it's like the Parable of the Double-Crossed Palooka, see?

14. And in the Land of the Angels was a dame,
15. Whom the magistrate did accuse of murder,
16. For she had been seen in an inn, taking strong drink with a certain official,
17. Whose wife she was not;
18. And, lo, it came to pass that this high-society character was ventilated with numerous slugs, .44 in caliber,
19. Which the coroner did retrieve after the mortal remains of the departed soul were found upon the shore of the sea called Pacific, nearby the town of Malibu;
20. Straightway the dame was taken to the hoosegow, where the law of that land said she must be allowed to make one phone call;
21. It was a Thursday, and behind a glass door marked with his name, a certain detective reclined in his chair;
22. Though he spake not, yet his voice was heard, as he told the tale in tones jaded, bitter, cynical;
23. Yet all the while asleep, and on his desk was a writing of the Tribune, which in large letters declared:
24. CONGRESSMAN FOUND DEAD; POLICE ARREST ACTRESS HIGHPOINT AFTER HOTEL TRYST; GRIEVING WIDOW MOURNS HEIR TO DAVENPORT OIL FORTUNE.
25. The phone rang and the detective's secretary, who was some dish herself, answered saying, Axelrod Detective Agency.
26. That's me, said the voice of the detective who spake while sleeping, and he saith:
27. It ain't much of a livin' but at least it's honest most of the time,
28. Instead of working downtown with those crummy double-crossers.
29. Cops, crooks, sometimes it's hard to tell the difference in this town.
30. So now I'm solo, a private detective.
31. Sounds exciting to some people, but it's mostly cheating husbands and deadbeat chislers.
32. Small-time stuff.
33. Then the secretary walked in and saith to Axelrod:
34. Hey, Mike. We got a live one on the line. Want me to tranfer it?
35. Sure, Betty, saith Mike, lighting a Chesterfield
36. Before picking up the phone, and
37. Lo, the screen did split, so that the dame was beheld also on the phone, downtown in the hoosegow.
38. Axelrod. What can I do for you? he saith.
39. Mister Axelrod, saith the dame, sorely distressed, I - I - I didn't do it. I'm innocent -- innocent, I tell ya! Jeff and me -- I mean, Congressman Davenport -- well, it wasn't what it looked like --
40. Whoa! said the detective. Hold on there a minute, lady!
41. Slow down a sec, sweetheart. I don't even know your name yet.
42. And the dame, who was a blonde, saith:
43. Oh. I'm -- I'm sorry, it's just that -- well, my name is Veronica Highpoint.
44. And a trumpet did sound, and again was heard the voice of the detective, though he did speak not, saying:
45. Veronica Highpoint, big star.
46. Or that's what they said a couple of years ago, until the gossip columns started in on her and the studio dropped her contract.
47. A dame like that, said the voice of the detective who spake not, but he stopped and saith aloud:
48. So how did you get my number?
49. Jeff -- I mean, Congressman Davenport gave it to me, saith the dame Veronica;

50. He said it was important, and if anything ever happened to him . . .

But nobody's paying me to write this stuff, see? I'm a professional and Logan hasn't hit my tip jar lately, so this little saga of the drop-dead blonde and the hard-luck gumshoe will have to wait for another day. Today, there's important business in D.C., and I've got to get some sleep. But there are no accidents.

Could Cynthia Yockey double her chances for a date on Saturday night?

Why am I so neglectful toward the ladies? Ask my beautiful wife, who has put up with my horrible thoughtlessness for 20 years.

Or ask lesbian blogger Cynthia Yockey, who catapulted me to irresistibility. (Cynthia is pictured here with Jason "Big Sexy" Mattera, who is obviously trying to make someone jealous.)

Cynthia and I met at CPAC and began what I thought to be a strictly platonic friendship. After all, I am happily married and she's playing for the other team. We were just a couple of conservative bloggers, trying to advocate on issues, increase our traffic and make a gazillion dollars. What could possibly be wrong? How could anyone even suggest . . .?

But you know what? She sure likes big wieners. NTTAWWT. (She's even got a photo of somebody with a big wiener in their mouth.)

Could it be that, in fact, Cynthia is a hetero hottie trapped in a lesbian's body? Stranger things have happened, you know. Meghan McCain recently turned a guy gay.

As a matter of fact, Cynthia once expressed interest in a guy from Ohio, but he broke her heart. So I'm thinking that Cynthia is bisexual.

Back when I was kid, I thought that word meant you'd ride your bicycle over to a girl's house and . . . well, anyway. When I tried that, the girl told me that yes, as a matter of fact, I was bisexual, because the only way I'd ever get it was if I paid for it. (Buy-sexual, get it?)

Later on, as I got older, I thought that "bisexual" meant when it was so good, you wanted to do it twice, but before I ever got to that, I spent a few years being trisexual. I kept trying, but wasn't getting sexual. (Try-sexual.)

Finally, however, somebody explained to me the real meaning bisexual. They said the great thing about being bisexual was, it doubled your chances for a date on Saturday night. Unfortunately, that wasn't much help to me, since two times zero is still zero.

So I got married. Now we've got six kids. My wife tells me that this means at least one of us has had sex a few times.

I support abstinence education. The way I look at it, if young people don't learn to do without sex before they're married . . .

Cynthia is in favor of same-sex marriage. I think that must be where you have a lot of sex, but it's always the same. I believe in traditional marriage, which isn't like that at all.

In a traditional marriage, you have Republican sex, which is the kind that begins with "I do" and ends with "till death do you part." My wife says if I keep telling these dumb jokes, the "death do you part" might be sooner than I expect.

But the main thing is, go over to Cynthia's site, where she can show you that big wiener.

UPDATE: Obi's Sister has car-lust for a Camaro. Driven by a guy with a mullet, no doubt.

Ever wonder why the letters 'O,' 'M' and 'G' were invented?

She is strictly neutral and objective and therefore offers herself as an impartial referee in the Jello wrestling catfight grudge match, The Fight for Big Sexy. Yeah, I know, life is like a box of chocolates but -- Holy Cthulhu! -- I never thought it would come to this . . .

Another amazing alumni success story from The Other McCain School of Blogging

Not only did one of my clients get more than 8,000 hits in just her first 15 days of blogging, but she also finally got Big Sexy to send her that box of Godiva chocolate:

Everybody give her a Rule 2. Yes, that includes you, Monique. You can get your revenge in the Jello wrestling match later.

Something tells me . . .

. . . . that the next meeting of the Patrick Henry College alumni association is going to be very interesting.

Dude. If only you'd bought her the Godivas.

'Big Sexy' vs. Charles Rangel

Jason Mattera confronts the Most Ethical Democrat Evah, eliciting the carefully argued response: "Why don't you mind your goddamned business?"

BTW, both Moe Unique Hits and Clever S. Logan are in love with Mattera, whom Logan nicknamed "Big Sexy." A couple of years ago, I jokingly suggested to Big Sexy that he should marry Moe and, when he refused to act on my suggestion -- I was joking, but Moe really was in love with the boy -- I sicced Logan on him, so he would know how a broken heart feels. I'm evil like that.

Then I introduced Moe to Logan, and got them both into blogging, and now Big Sexy is mad at me, alleging that I broke the Guy Code. I'm evil like that, too. But really, Jason, man, it's for your own good. Until you send Logan that box of Godiva chocolates you promised, you're in that zone of injustice where you're not allowed to invoke the Guy Code.

UPDATE: Jason Mattera is a racist who hates Asians (as I'm sure Michelle Malkin would gladly testify.)

Jason Mattera defends Rush Limbaugh

On CNN, via Young America's Foundation:

I love how Jason calls out Frank Schaeffer, who responds that "Rush Limbaugh is to the conservative movement what Jabba the Hut was to the 'Star Wars' movies."

Oh. Ha, ha, ha. Now I get it. A fat joke. Wow, that is so erudite and sophisticated.