God knows we've had our differences, but right now, I can't help feeling bad for my Piggy Bank. He just sits here with that sad empty look on his face, as an accumulation of dust swirls about him. It's as if he got left behind when the last wagon pulled out of Lonsome Dove.

But, I guess you should never underestimate a Pig. Who knows when he might suddenly jump up and start walking to Montana on a Texas Ranger prisoner drive to the Hardin Jail. Although, I doubt very much that all of those Perry Limbs along the trail are conducive to an increase in prison population.

And then, there's the big problem. What happens when they reach Ogallalla? Pig will finally learn that Ivanka not only became Jewish, but got married as well. The news will break his little ceramic heart. He'll either drown himself in a Chinese money laundry, or, turn into a crazed, marauding Blue Pig. (Or would it be Red Pig?)

If Pig did go rogue, his porky instincts would probably lead him far North to a hideout somewhere along the Gravina Island Highway. From this strategic location, they'd either have to build a bridge to get to him, or, sign him to a book deal. Pig could end up fatter than a Latin grape.

But for now, it's all just a dream bubble. I might as well have him flying over New Orleans in an alien-looking helium balloon. "Shock and Awe of inter-planetary Pig overshadows continued New Orleans suffering." "Mysterious Flying Pig escapes with newly reattached blame finger." Who would ever believe that one?

It would be like saying that the Goldman bulldozers at the Treasury Department moved faster than a greased Pig and created global warming. Yeah, and Brooksley Born is a weatherman.

No, I should have let Pig go to Iraq when the CPA called for him. By now, he could have been a successful campaign bundler or an expert in structured settlements. Although, I don't really know what he would do with a solid gold shitter lid.

Uh-oh, he must have heard me.

He said I forgot Supreme Court Justice. And, he wants a Yellow Brick Road to go with that shitter lid. Now what do I do?

It's perplexing. You can't make a silk robe out of a Pig's ......, can you? I don't know whether to call Elton John or Roger Stone.

A-w-h, the hell with it. I'm just going to take him down and turn him loose in the Everglades. He sure as hell can't get into any trouble there. Can he?

We'll see how the Pig with the golden oink makes out with all the other wild animals. At least until Duvall and Tommy Lee decide to do The Road To Morroco.

I assume you read that Blago's gambling advisor, Chris Kelly, died on 9/9/09.

How about Danny Pang dieing on 9/9/09?

Or, James S McDonald of Rockefellar & Co on 9/9/09.

Kelly owned stock in Andrew Cherng's Panda Express restaurants. The duo were also linked to a Chicago casino project.

And, if I remember correctly, they were also linked to Panda Express casino buses that were being funded by Homeland Security.

Danny Pang's wife was murdered in 1997, and the accused was Pang's lawyer, Hugh "Randy" McDonald.

If you don't have a good book to read tonight, this may be the start of one. Just don't eat or read any fortune cookies in the process.

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Still wondering about the Harman wiretap? Me too.

This thing seems to have more surprise, surprise, surprises than a Hebrew version of Gomer Pyle. The audience is left trying to figure out if Harman is innocent old Aunt Bee, set upon by a new and improved version of the Arkansas Project, or, Mayberry's first recipient of the Jonathan Pollard Award. I guess we won't know until Ted Olson shows up sporting either Sergeant Carter's campaign hat, or Goober's hillbilly yamaka.

No, we're just American Spectators. We're left to channel-surf and wonder if the likes of David Henderson should have been Pollard's environmentalist brother-in-law, or, Murtech's Tom Mann is the Democratic version of a Rehoboth yoga instructor. At least it was a little easier when we had Robert Novak's personal TV Guiide to tell us who the secret players were on the CIA Channel.

Now-a-days, I couldn't tell you whether Porter Goss was married to a Pittsburgh industrialist or Richard Mellon Scaife. Thank God that I swapped-out the Pentagon IG VCR for the Rogue Mormon model, or I would have totally missed the Hugh Bancroft purchase of Duke Cunningham's house; the Ken Tomlinson illegal contract to the Wall Street Journal; and, Journal publisher Gordon Crovitz's appearance as the Best Man for Ted Olson's wedding.

Hell, today, you'd have to take out a full page ad in the new Rupert Journal just to find out which flavor of Jerry Lewis crime that Debra Yang had to recuse herself from this week. For all I know, Olson has her filling sniper school ammo boxes for the GOP's AWOL Jack.

Which, brings us to the "viewers want to know" question of whether Aunt Bee and the other Mayberry characters will make an appearance in the new Kevin Spacey movie.

The National Vanguard posted a sign in Clyde's Barbershop window in 2005 that asked a similar question:

     "Privately, many are asking why a company controlled by the Israeli government was        allowed to install communications equipment in Federal buildings, subjecting high-       ranking officials to a possible intelligence scheme." 

AWOL Jack was the lobbyist, FoxCom was the company, and Tom Hinton of Poway, California was the CEO. John Hinton was at the American Spectator with Ted Olson.

Something tells me that Ohio's Bob Ney may be playing the part of Barney. Or, would it be Arkansas Bob?

I can see the apprehension in your eyes, but it really is safe to read this. Not only are you protected by my swine flu mask, but I've armed myself with the H1N1 Computer Goggles and the accompanying No-Sow Keyboard Gloves. You don't have to breathe a word of it.

The pandemic pajamas? Oh, I'm just wearing them in case I should start daydreaming of pigs in a blanket. And, they do go pretty well with this big flu-shielding sombrero.

I also figured that the Mexican lid would give things a little Alamo flavor should it become necessary to take refuge at Fort Murtha. They say that this flu thing is traveling faster than Stuart Levine & Arlen Specter became Democrats. But, if Colgan Air can get Atta to Boston on time, then I guess they can beat the flu to Johnstown. I just wonder if I'll need to buy one of those mile-high Blago seats.

But, at least it's swine flu and not Mad Cow. It saves me the trouble of flying all the way to the Daniel Hopsicker storied, and ponzi-schemer Art Nadel owned, Venice Jet Center. And, come to think of it, where Atta supposedly took flying lession under it's old banner of Huffman Aviation.

And, where else but in the land of Jeb Bush can you watch live, Governor endorsed, terrorist training, be defrauded by the guy that owns the place and the companies based there, and, get ponzi-fleeced by new owner Nadel? It kind of makes you wonder what your survival chances are at Fort Jeb without the flu.

Accordingly, Florida Flu Doctor Hopsicker reaches into his medical journal and relates the tale of the Florida Nursing Corp. A case involving Nadel, Howard Sturman, and the Genovese Crime Family.

WHO apparently didn't track that flu, because it spread north to Cooper Optical & the Cooper Companies in New Jersey. Once there, it found a company board monopolized by the Sturman & Singer families. The name Singer is usually associated with the name Abbrezzese. Abbrezzese like in Joe Bruno, Evident Tech, Motient Corp, TerreStar, WSNet, AVIBioPharma.....you got the flu picture.

So, blow your nose on this. Also found at Cooper was one William Goolsbie. Sick William owned a company called ImmunoTherapy which was sold to AVIBioPharma in 1998. He became an AVI board member in 2007.

Stop the pandemic? Which one? And, how do I reject the Sinatra record with all of this crap on?

Just ignore all the noise in the background. It's merely my entrepreneurial Piggy-Bank pleading his case for an early release from hall closet confinement. He claims that he was innocently well-wishing when I found him outside on the street corner hawking bottles of Chet Stanczek tonic water. Yeah, right.

Holy water wouldn't have washed away his snout contorting guilt. So, I stripped him of his Larry Kudlow t-shirt and duct taped his money slot. We'll see how well he likes being a slot-less parking meter for towels. Or, he can just sit there and pretend he's the Indianapolis Bond Bank.

But really, why should I be the one constantly enduring the swine stress test? Everyone else gets to just sit back and enjoy their common garden variety, back-dated stock option, ponzi scheme, complex derivative, excessive bonus, or, finder fee Pig.

Me, I'm cursed with a total, all-in-one, toxic assets selling, snake-oil salesman. Where's the ceramic justice?

And, as if that wasn't bad enough, when he's not out on the street corner, he's out goofing-off on the yacht "Capitalistic". He's working on his tan while I'm stuck here in the Socialistic Tax Mill, filling toothpaste tubes, to pay the fuel and repair bills for his ship of fooled ya.

Captain Pig and his off-shore and untaxed Corporate K-Street and Congressional crew never saw a short term gain/long term loss chart to the Crestwood Islands that they didn't like. It's a course that changes Pig's normal copper-metallic greed smell to an overpowering one. An ordor so powerful that it deprives you of that fresh wife-emptied wallet smell.

Uh-oh. Ivanka in blue. Jail break in progress. Cover your ears - there's gonna be a gun fight.

If you hold your foot just right, it ain't but four hours to Mexico - Crossin' Over, Lee Roy Parnell

The Mirida Inititive was announced in October 2007. Mirida was a King George pledge of $1.7 billion in US aid to Mexico for it's war on drug cartels. This life saving money may very well be en route, but according to my synchronized, bloodbath monitoring watch, they sure as hell didn't load it next to the Lonestar in Lee Roy's trunk.

Trunk management might not be his day job, but one of the guys charged with at least holding his foot just right is US Ambassador Antonio Garza.

Antonio had the distinction of being the very first person knighted by King George when he first began his rule of Texas. Knighted Secretaries Of State, especially those from the castle of Bracewell & Patterson, slay voting dragons, right?

And, since it seems to blend so neatly into our own fire breathing financial mess, the city of Merida just happens to be a hot spot banking & insurance center. Not to mention the fact that Mrs Knight happens to be a bank president.

Is it possible that someone forgot to do a trunk check upon Lee Roy's arrival? Or, unloaded the trunk and mistakenly handed the deposit slip to Spanish John?

Granted, Mirida isn't Lee Roy's normal run, and, they did force him to dispose of Spitzer at that little cantina along the way, but the "we don't need no stink'in badges" guys are coming up the hill. And, it looks like they even brought the "scum sucking pig" guy with them.

Crazy King Bogie has split for Dallas, but where are the mules? We don't need another story that we can't take back home. 

Don't look, I'm trying to find a good hiding spot for my new penny sock. The sock security upgrade was made necessary by the government and financial industry change to the Madoff Dictionary version of the word "transparency". Big, clear plastic, pickle jugs no longer fit the definition, nor, do they meet my own personal stress test to protect thoughts-purchasing-coins in an economic depression.

Compounding the newspeak language problem is the fact that I caught my copper-grubbing Piggy-Bank sporting a black bandana and twirling a notched pair of six-shooters. I'm starting to suspect that he's joined-up with the Hole In The Wall (Street) Gang.

The gang has declared open season on any form of the dollar. They have become so brazen that they are known to raid with upside-down umbrellas at the mere sound of the Skyliners. And, pity the poor fool that disregards his Weather Channel - Local On The 8's.

Even so, it doesn't take a weatherman to know that this gang doesn't run under a tree at the sound of canned Congressional thunder. They merely follow the taxpayer bailout rainbow back to their, off-shore and untaxed, Hole In The Wall Heaven.

And, a dollar to your bank account's doughnut says that the gang uses the wrap-around greenback trail to cross the rainbow. But, so far, noone has been able to track them beyond the boulder strewn Politician's Pass.

But, you can't blame the self-regulation Sheriff or his no change-no coin return posse. They're rated AAA nationally and have won numerous awards for integrity from such organizations as the Dilapidated Vending Machine Owners Of America.

No, the real problem seems to be this word "Liberty" on the coins. If they would remove it, then it wouldn't be stealing. And, I wouldn't have to hide mine in my sock. 

It wasn't marked on my calander as such, but somehow the 12th of March ended-up being X-Rated Thursday.

The day started out with me checking on the political credentials of Stormy Daniels. I arrived at her website wearing nothing more than sweat-pants and a tee-shirt, but found myself embarrassingly overdressed.

Stormy, on the other hand, looked quite comfortable not wearing a stitch of the credentials I was seeking. Maybe it's just me, but I left with the impression that she would be a candidate who wouldn't hesitate to change her position on things.

But, in all fairness to Stormy, I didn't fully scrutinize all of the available information at her website. My visit was cut short due to the dumb wireless mouse setting off all of the smoke detectors. Cheap mouse - wouldn't even click supersonic for a couple of dog-year minutes.

Anyhow, I open the windows to let all of the smoke out and then follow the, still smoldering, little mouse to the next "You Must Be Over Eighteen To View This" site. Or, at least it could have been.

It turned out to be the obscene story of the Iraqi shoe thrower, Muntazer al-Zaidi, being sentenced to three years in prison. The trial isn't out on DVD yet, but it's rumored that al-Zaidi will be changing his name to Dusty following this pornographic courtroom award winner.

It will also be interesting to see how the entertainment censors at McGraw-Hill rate this one and explain it to America's children. Throw a shoe - three years. Steal a billion - we'll give you a bonus and give you $75 billion more. Will the kids in each country get the free Groucho glasses and cigar to go with it? And, while I'm asking, what's the difference between a drug induced hallucination and an educationally induced one?

Tell the kid that any moron can grow up to be President - Bush proved that one. But, why is it a crime to tell the kid that they still throw shoes at morons? Because it dims the spotlight on Mission Accomplished II? III? Eighteen? Because it might deprive future office seeking morons of their shot at ruining the country?

Three years in prison? Assault on a Foreign Head Of State? They should give George H W three years in prison for having a penis.

And, maybe somebody should give Congress and all, or part, of the American people some jail time for their eight year pornographic addiction and steadfast shoe fettish approval of the emperor's new clothes.

Me and my financial partner, the Piggybank, have invested in a new blogging computer. Sir Pig, as he likes to be called, managed to accumulate the funds as a result of our ardous peanut butter deprived diet. He says we may even shoot for a Blue Ray burner if we land the duet Nutrisystem commercials.

The skinny on the old machine is that since it was used to blog about Bush/Cheney, and friends, and their doing everything humanly possible to destroy the country, the environment, and the planet, we'll have to have it exorcized before burial.

Sir Pig even went into his Linda Blair head spinning routine when I refused to use the machine for one last blog on Rick Santelli. We sort of compromised and sent Rick a chimp-haired suit with a knife pocket. The knife will come in handy should Rick decides to attack himself.

Pig and I almost had a knife fight over the TV when Ivanka Trump came on. We cooled off by taking a walk to the Post Office and scaned the FBI's Ten Most Wanted List for financial advisors. We call it "Ten Up On Wall Street"

But, sometimes Pig thinks like a One Way street. Just when I thought that I had him convinced that John Walsh would have been a more appropriate co-host, he goes and buys a whole roll of stamps so he can sweet talk Ivanka.I hope they don't let her sit anywhere near Rove's defense team.

Even so, you don't have to build your very own Ivanka like me and the Pig did. You fight the seemingly overwhelming collection of crooked lawyers, lobbyists,corporations, bankers, & politicians the same way that you would fight any other dreaded disease. You start with a mouse. 

I was working on my own stimulus package of Oodles Of Noodles when the House Financial Services Committee hearings started. I was reduced to noodle slurping after my peanut butter and jelly way of life was tossed into the toxic assets bin....aka....the Bad Bank, or, the Parnell & Falwell Bank. But, just like a mortgage dumpster diver, the financial hearings ended-up giving me all the banking salmonella I could handle.

Seeking help, I reached for the phone, but didn't know whether to call the doctor or my investment banker. Would the wire-tap guy know? If I do call somebody, will I be labeled as some sick whistleblower? Is this situation covered in the new Susan Collins "Don't Snitch" video?

I started to feel so bad that the Wall Street Dogs couldn't even cheer me up:Right paw up, left paw up, roll over. But, it was kind of amazing what they could make them do with just some authoritative commands - and a blind $176 billion dog bisquit

And now, having successfully completed the symbolic Congressional Obedience School, I guess we're supposed to consider them as officially house-broken. We can once again trust them not to crap on our trillion dollar carpets. Just make sure that we, once again, walk them with a symbolic legislation and symbolic enforcement leash.

Congress is like the waiving & smiling perfect neighbor with the well kept yard. Their yard stays that way because they sneak all of their dogs up to crap in your yard after dark.

So, I find myself at sunset with Congress constantly fouling my yard, a stimulus package dripping from my chin, and, desperately searching for a cure for bailout salmonella. It's a damn Peter Pan nightmare.

I had already read the TPM pieces on the New Hampshire phone jamming in 2002.

I read the TPM piece about the AP identifying  Sen Gregg's staffer Kevin Koonce receiving gifts from Abramoff's guy Boulanger.

I read the TPM comments section identifying Sen Gregg's COS Joel Maiola as delivering the Abramoff/Indian checks to the NH State Committee.

Then, I read Raw Story's Muriel Kane's piece on Timothy Flanigan.

Kane's piece was asking why Flanigan, one of the White House's top guys on torture and  Homeland Security, would suddenly be expendable and shipped off to Tyco. And, why would Tyco really need Abramoff when Flanigan was a White House insider who knew everybody. I've been trying to find out.

I think everybody already knows the basic Abramoff lobbying for Tyco story, so I won't repeat it. But, it's interesting where part of the story ended-up - in New Hampshire.

The Tyco lawsuits were assigned to the US District Court For The District Of New Hampshire. More than two dozen consolidated lawsuits were dismissed on Oct 14, 2004.

I dont know which judge dismissed the suits, but a class action was setteled in 2007 where Paul Barbadoro was the judge.

Judge Barbadoro just happened to be the Deputy Chief Counsel for the US Senate Committee on Secret Military Assistance To Iran And The Nicaragian Opposition.

The judge went from Iran-Contra, to private practice, to being appointed to the Federal Bench by G H W Bush in 1992.

I just found it interesting and thought I'd mention it. For the rest, we'll just have to wait on Muriel.

I've been trying to get my head right with this Obama "looking forward" thing. But, I'm making about as much progress as an eight year Bush Administration.  So far, my only forward looking accomplishment has been to cross Halloween 2009 off of the party list. I can't afford the three-piece suit to go as a bank robber.

And, at the other end of the financial fashion spectrum, my piggy-bank gives me dirty looks every time I put on a baseball hat.

But, you can't really blame the pig for being confused. The TV is on all day and he doesn't know if he's watching Squawk Box or the betting for the 1919 World Series.

He wanted to know how many bailouts were in an inning. I simply told him, that in today's world, it depends on how many blind umpires are calling the game. That's when he asked for his own Bank Charter. (And a baseball hat)

I told him that I didn't think that one pig; one plastic jug, with not enough pennies in it to cover it's bottom; and, one toy slot machine, really qualifed for a Charter or a bailout.

He said that with an end-run around e-Verify (he's imported), a bright pink Larry Kudlow tie, and some Davos tags on his luggage, that he was golden for a few billion.

I laughed at him and asked him what Pig Of America was going to do for me. He said that he'd buy me that three-piece suit for the party.

I told him that his plan sounded a whole lot like dishonest and a whole lot like what we were watching on TV. He said, "What are they going to do? Throw a shoe at you?"

Yeah. With my luck, they'd throw the big bronze one.

He countered with the fact that it was the bank that helped throw George Bush into the White House that had the bronze ones. And incidentally, that it was the very same bank that dressed-up as the Conductor and hollered to Joe Biden "All Aboard For The Soul Train".

I told him that his babbling wasn't doing much to help me with the Obama "looking forward" thing. If I really wanted to visit the White House, I'd either pay for my own ticket, or send the Governor a box of chocolates.

That's when he got a little testy and started rambling about cowboys oinking cowboys, or something. I think it's Pig Latin and I've noticed that he uses it every time that he's on the phone to Illinois. I wish he'd just get a Blackberry.

He's always trying to distract me. I just need to focus.

Looking forward....Looking forward....Dick Thornburg disbands all FBI Task Forces....Jake Garn handling Savings & Loan regulations....Zollick money laundering prosecutions down 74?% No....no, that's not it.

Looking forward....Looking forward....US Attorneys fired....FBI posse out chasing elusive terrorists....Chris Cox at SEC....White collar prosecutions down 85%. No....no....no. That's looking backwards-forward, dummy.

Looking forward....Looking forward....How about a Halloween party where everybody dresses up as a GOD DAMMED GOVERNMENT THAT WORKS!.

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David Vitter, eat you heart out. Your little anal romps don't even register on this adult pamper scale.

Federal Judge Coleen Kollar-Kotelly, the queen of comfort products for sore duffed phone tappers, is now experimenting with her new judicial anti-pucker line.

Kollar-Kotelly's new line is the direct result of  her own puckering experiences, as well as those of the Attorney General, while by-passing the Deputy AG and her fellow FISA Court Judges. Her new anti-puckering works great, just ignore the whistleblowing.

Her product line is so good that Dick Cheney is a regular customer and Kollar-Kotelly has covered every documented crack and creavice of his old butt.

Vitter may have gotten the vas-o-line and baby powder treatment, but it's Kollar-Kotelly that you want to see when you really want an ass covered.     

WaPo recently ran a piece that left me shaking my head and saying "No Way". The piece actually said that Made Off George did something right.

George was given credit for increasing the number of nation wide clinics for the poor.

Then today, I make it to the Investigative Section of WaPo that directs me to the Dallas News series entitled 'State Of Neglect'. This series tells you how the clinic angle works in Texas.

I haven't researched this further, but if Texas is any indication of how this clinic thing works nation wide, it would sure explain George's enthusiasm for the program. 

The object of this post is to warn all the poor people of Dallas to curb their enthusiam while throwing shoes at the new house. Make sure to research your local clinic before you remove your shoes and become suceptible to foot injury and the greedy Texas GOP. 

Muntazer al Zaidi, the Iraqi journalist who banked on his shoes kissing President Made Off, has, supposedly, signed a confession that states that he acted at the urging of Iraqi head hackers. This latest development has forced me to leather collar my previous post.

My earlier marveling at Mr Z's athletic prowess is now tempered with the thought that he may have been on steriods. Yes, steriods. Not because he leads the Iraqi league in shoes thrown, but because no self-respecting head hacker would use a 271 Shoe on a job that required a 007 Odd Job Hat. Amputation by shoe?

And then, allowing himself to be captured and subjected to the Gold Finger-ish torture mill, as alleged by his brother? i.e., tortured for 36 hours continuously; hit with iron rods & cables; very severe bleeding in his eye; and, a forced confession.

That alone is a pretty steep price to pay for a few shit stains. But, he's also looking at a 5-15 year jail stretch on top of it. (Good thing that they hanged the tyrant, huh?)

He's charged with aggression against a foreign head of state during an official visit.But, with the way things work in Iraq, I'm not sure if the charged aggression is the throwing of the shoes, or, the attempted dog kissing. And, if Mr Z would have said "son of dogs", would he have been charged with attempting to shut down the Iraqi parliment as well?

Z, the news hound, was an established journalist, he didn't just fall off the turnup....e-r-r....shrink wrapped dog food truck. He didn't know that you're supposed to corrupt the justice department BEFORE you throw the shoes? No $40 thou in pardon money tucked into the odor-eaters? No friends at Treasury with shoe boxes full of money? No UNIFYING?, first Black President to elect, so that you don't have to back out of Dodge with two six-shoes blazing? Where was the escape plan?

Z's blundered head loping has set the hacker profession back years. He's made them look like two-for-a-dollar carnival barkers, "Shoe the dodging dog (or chimp) and win a headless kewpie doll". What? Did he think he was in some kind of circus tent? Nancy Pelosi hacker school?

Z and his wayward loafers are now looking at jail time so severe that it will probably exceed FBI overtime. And, his only pillow will be the increased shoe commerce with Turkey. The happy face blankets won't be handed out until it's confirmed that excessive shoe dodging causes testicular cancer in dogs.