I walk to work pretty much every day, and I pass twenty or so newspaper boxes along the way, so frequently the headlines stick in my head, like a bad Ace of Base song. Today’s particularly heinous offender is the quote from Dick Cheney, on the front page of the P.I., where he refers to shooting a lawyer in the fucking face as (emphasis mine): “…one of the worst days of my life.”
One of the worst days? Frankly, if I shot a friend and acquaintance in the fucking face, that’d probably be my worst day right there. And I’m thinking, for a draft-dodgin’ (sorry, other prioritizin’), millionaire-by-Halliburtonin’, vice presidentin’, catbird-seatin’ kind of guy like Dick is, what could the worst day of his life be? I’ve narrowed it down to three options:

1. When his daughter came out of the closet.

2. When he accidentally fisted that virgin to death, during the Secret Masonic Initiation Ceremony.

3. When he got blotto two weeks ago and had the face of Mohammed tattooed on his ass.

And, honestly, though, if he was drunk when he shot that guy in the fucking face, would somebody please send the motherfucker to jail? Please?