Bourbon does Rush... and brain tumors?

http://www.rushlimbaugh.com/home/daily/site_032108/content/01125110.guest.html

Bourbon never thought he'd link to Rush Limbaugh's webpage.  In fact, before today, Bourbon didn't even know Rush had a webpage; yes, that Rush Limbaugh: two-legged, walking, natural rights rebuttal.

In any case, this specific link will take you to a transcipt of an interview with Senator Specter (R-PA) about overcoming cancer and videotaping football games.  Bourbon appreciates the accuracy in the transcription and Specter's mastery of vernacular forms of "affirmative."  However, what really got Bourbon's attention was just how whorish our culture is becoming.  Victims are everywhere and brain tumors are a very horrible thing, but it is becoming more and more evident how well self-victimization sells!  1990s were self-help books, as we move into the first aughts of the 21st century, we self-victimize.  Don't get Bourbon wrong here, he does not want anyone to deal with brain cancer, nor is he arguing that Specter is thankful for his cancer, but what irks even an 80+ proof spirit is that this senator had the gonads to go on a talkshow and talk about the 2002 Superbowl.  Granted it was just last "few minutes" of the interview, but as we straight-line people know, those last few minutes are for the money shot, and Specter's money shot was a Canseco-like headline grabbing routine.  The Patriots cheated in 2002!  Oh, and I overcame cancer so buy my book, it's got a nice picture of me and a gavel, proving my dedication to justice and the American way.  Really, buy my book, Patriots cheated (Google hit: check; RSS feed: promoted), buy my book.  Senator, regardless of politics, you were brave, strong, and even lucky before you wrote the book and winged about football games.  What's the point?

Note Rush's nice photo at the top of the webpage.  He's smoking a cigar.  Rush Limbaugh: Never giving in; you think he shared a stogie with cancer-surviver Specter after the show?  Let's hope for Specter's sake he did not.

Bourbon endorses Lufthansa - wishes bankruptcy for Spanair

Bourbon's recent trip to Anatolia resulted in the official Bourbon endorsement of Lufthansa. Bourbon found the attendents more than happy to fulfill Bourbon's wish for whiskey, wine, and beer aboard flights to and from Istanbul. In particular, Bourbon wishes much happiness and future wealth for an un-named steward, who, upon learning Bourbon's wish for a glass of Johnny Walker Black Label, gladly filled the glass to within less than 1/2 cm of the top. Oh, lets not forget the single ice cube. Bourbon wins. All future requests for beer, wine, or more Johnny Walker were met with a smile, and Bourbon can only wish that all his future flights are on Lufthansa.

Conversely, Bourbon can only express extreme disgust for an airline that charges 3 Euro for 25 cl of warm Heineken. Namely, Spanair, who, couldn't even check Bourbon in correctly, nor was on-time for a Madrid-Frankfurt flight. But it was the 3 Euro Hienekin that drove the final nail in the coffin of hope for a Bourbon endorsment of Spanair. Pathetic.

Bourbon was comfotably delivered to and from Anatolia in true Bourbon fashion by Lufthansa - come fly the Bourbon skies. Three cheers.

Bourbon Shits All Over Sunday

Bourbon, not normally known for his Sunday exploits, once again nearly fell victim to Negroni, his often misbehaved mutt of a friend from Italy.  Birthdays often bring out the worst, or best, in Bourbon, and he was happy to oblige, though fearful as he was of Negroni's infiltration into the war party.  Swing low, sweet chariot, indeed.

Violence peaked rather early that Sunday, resulting in torn leather and broken flint, but injuries were minimal, except for a slight Mono scare.

Rumors of a Bourbon trip to Anatolia are in circulation.  We await reports.

Bourbon goes golfing.

A master of many sports, Bourbon enjoys a good round of golf - especially while filming TV shows. Apparently, Bourbon is not a birder, which doesn't surprise Maker's Mark in the slightest. If you doubt the complete lack of bourbon-ness involved in waking up when bourbon normally goes to bed, and then sitting on your ass in the woods with binoculars looking for a woodcock, booby, or titpecker, then check out www.birding.com for a complete analysis of the "sport". Also, go there for "all your bird-watching needs".

It seems Bourbon was caught golfing in Florida yesterday, when he solved the problem of a noisy member of the Aves family in true bourbon fashion.
http://sports.yahoo.com/golf/pga/news?slug=ap-golfer-birdkilled&prov=ap&type=lgns

Newsflash: BOURBON PLAYS FOR ATLETICO!

Given the recent events at Calderon between Madrid and Barcelona, Bourbon decided it proper to investigate how Bolton's Bitches could host Barcelona and turn them into a bunch of yellow card collectors.  Bourbon does not claim to be a soccer expert, so he's going to stick to what he knows: anthropology.

4-2?  That's funny.

Anyway.

North Carolina is a strange state.  Let's get that out right away.  Nestled somewhere between Virginia and South Carolina, this state full of criminally accused high school cheaters and basketball coaches with eye-charts for last names must also attract free-thinkers when it comes to relationships.  Bourbon's recent anthropological research trip to the Catalanian capital proved this to be so.  It seems that wherever Bourbon rolls, especially when joined with Bourbon-Brothers, humanity shines.  Bourbon met with various Americans taking in the scenery in the basement room of a pinxos bar near Las Ramblas, and these Americans being American decided the non-smoking section to be best, because as we all know, only cool kids don't smoke.  And other Americans.  Good place to go when touring.  In any case, Bourbon sacked up and sat down.  Introduced to 6 new Americans, Bourbon promptly forgets all their names.  Remember, Bourbon is an anthropological researcher, not a fucking journalist.  Apparently Brother Elijah is neither.

Regardless of name, each American proved themself to be entertaining.  Eventually.  Initial conversation revolved around "gross-sounding" words like "moist," which apparently made one of the Americans, yes nameless, unhappy, even disgusted.  "Moist" reminds Bourbon of a variety of things both gross and nice.  Phonetically, Bourbon is probably neutral; in fact, as Bourbon thinks about it, most words are phonetically neutral.  Except for maybe the fart sound, because that might be gross, but not a word, so therefore probably outside the realm of the above table-discussion.  Fart, though, might be a "gross-sounding" word, but is that because of phonetics or denotation?  Bored yet?  Bourbon was!  Let's move on to the drinking.

Beer came later and for some more than others.  Another of the Americans began to drink with great dedication to her craft and revealed herself to be an undercover smoker.  Bourbon smirks.  You'll realize later.

After a joint decision between the Bourbon-Brothers, a plan was set in motion, a short one and a cold one in every bar until one met muster.  One did.  The Undercover Smoker met her maker.  Declaring she had a "ghetto booty" which "liked to be smacked," Undercover Smoker proved her intoxication and intentions.  Bourbon forgot to mention that Undercover Smoker seemed to have a boyfriend in tow, we'll call him Spineless Bitch.  Spineless Bitch was unhappy with Undercover Smoker's recent not-so-under-the-covers smoking habit or choice of conversation topics with Bourbon.  Spineless Bitch proceeded to be spineless and bitchy in the corner of the bar, while Undercover Smoker ceased to be undercover but not smoking.  Strange relationship, no?  Norfolk should move to North Carolina.

Bourbon is weary from relating this story and this post will conclude here, but not before one last choice quotation from Undercover Smoker: her exit line Bourbon will steal, "I want to fuck you; you don't want to fuck me.  I'm out of here."

Could be continued...

Bourbon gets a history lesson.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_of_Bourbon