cross-posted at The G Bitch Spot
G Bitch to Sixth District NOPD: I live on the street where the shooting was Sunday and there’s a bullet in my neighbor’s wall.
Sixth District to G Bitch: Well, the scene has already been processed so we don’t need it but if your neighbor needs something, like for insurance or something, she can call and have an officer come out to write a report. All right?
“Blogs are so 2000,” she said. And with that boost of confidence, I was off and running. I’m usually not the last one to hop on the bandwagon, but just about. I still wore the tight-roll during Y2K. When I was first approached by Derek…
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Once upon a time, there was a swamp with turtles, and sometimes, there were elephants and hippopatumuses. They went for a good swim and bath, and there was a forest with toucans, and in that forest, there was a bear. The scientists they were named…
By the time we finished our conversation, Chandrashakar had a wild look in his eyes and he had his hands around my throat. He had lost it! Gone off the deep end! The poor bastard had been in too many meetings, and he had snapped like a rubber band.
we pulled a set of jumper cables out of the trunk
and all the problems of the world
were solved
cross-posted at The G Bitch Spot
Ravitch responds to the outcome of the DC mayoral race, one frequently called a referendum on Michelle Rhee, and the narratives generated about the outcome and the recent charter movement’s main narrative. [Which she neatly sums up at the end–read all the way through for the full effect]
In the closing days of the Fenty campaign, [Rhee] went to the districts where Fenty had his strongest support—the largely white districts in the city’s Northwest section—to rally voters.
I haven’t been to Carol’s Pub for a decade, but it will always be the emotional naval in my personal version of Chicago’s heaving swollen abdomen. So to speak. Carol’s Pub is what snobs would call a “dive bar,” but what I would call a…
Greetings from Coburn Mountain, Alabama, and welcome to my first blog post ever. That’s right, first one. Why do I keep thinking about those monkeys they used to launch into orbit? I live on a farm, which everyone in my family imaginatively refers to as…
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According to Faber’s court testimony in 1823, after the death of her husband, Enriqueta Faber disguised herself as a man and enrolled in medical school in post-revolutionary France. After receiving a degree in modern surgery, Enrique Faber was drafted into the Napoleonic army to serve in the medical corps in Eastern Europe and Spain. After Napoleon’s defeat, Faber immigrated to the French colony of Guadalupe and, later under the name of Enrique, sought his fortune on the island of Cuba. Shortly after his arrival on the island, Faber was not only baptized in the Roman Catholic Church, but he also married a Cuban woman named Juana de León.
CHICAGO – One of the funniest things I’ve heard in many years was said to me by a co-worker, a lifelong Chicagoan. “There’s no such thing as a Chicago accent,” he said. I laugh every time I think of it. Of course, like everyone else…
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