Cyber Silk-Screening And The Quest For PithYesterday, I was riding my bike through a local festival known as MarketFest, when I ran into my friend, Bob. Bob runs a fine printing and graphics business, and has the market cornered on the hats and shirts associated with the ever-popular festivities.
So, after Bob graciously gave me one of the shirts, I started thinking about what would eventuate if I were to take over his business for a week.
The results are not pretty.
Right off the bat, I'd generate a world wide fatwa, by reaching back into my own quotable archives and culling this memorable bit of incendiary wound-poking:
And what good is the uniquely American art of nylon pamphleteering, without the gratutious--albeit justified swipe at Ted Kennedy:
Of course, the author of Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot cannot weather a pass here. The man proving to be a Small Rotund Genius gets a nod from the ebony underwear as well:
NARAL. Gotta love those pathetic, seething lesbians. They add spectral color to the vociferating, uteran Blitzkreigs that a monochromatic Howard Dean never could:
This little foray would never do without a little self-pitying pessimism:
. . .followed by a little self serving optimism.
Come to think of it, I know why Bob would never put me in charge of sloganeering. He wants to stay in business.