The federal deficit has ballooned by more than $1 trillion dollars this year. This does not make Tim Geithner very happy, but it also doesn’t worry him much, because spending more than we make is at best his third most-pressing priority. And don’t even get him started on taxes, because the tax-evader-in-chief is loathe to even use the word.
But fear not. The T.S. is ready to make some hard choices. Eventually. Maybe.
Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy
Ah, screw it. I’m sure Congress will fix everything in the health-care bill.
Timmy Meets The Press [MSNBC]
How is this better than GM?
JS – Drink. Read. Post. Repeat.
I am a DB reader. What the fuck is a “Jon Shazar”?
@1 because it’s in English, competent, and not taken from GM’s big book of cliched writing that commands you must begin every post with something like “you’ve really got to hand it to the Treasury.”
Please tell me this is NOT you?
http://www.jonshazar.com/pope/index.html
Are you a fuckin’ hipster? Where’s your fedora beard boy?
I fucking love this Shaz guy!
I fucking love this Shaz guy!
@5/6
Control yourself. Don’t shaz in your pants.
Shazar is Yiddish for BLANUS!
SHAZAM!!!! err.. i mean… SHAZAR!!!!!
3 – competent? For a free site he is absolutely competent… We are all blessed by his generic genius and mediocre missives.
Strong out of the gate, Shazzy! Though, with the move underground of our favorite “country reporter”, I have to say it: could this be Gasbag? The DB world wonders…
Jon -
Don’t shaz your pants. You douche.
Love,
Mom
@8 I concur.
Bye bye Greg.
In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey
Butane in my veins and I’m out to cut the junkie
With the plastic eyeballs, spray-paint the vegetables
Dog food stalls with the beefcake pantyhose
Kill the headlights and put it in neutral
Stock car flamin’ with a loser and the cruise control
Baby’s in reno with the vitamin d
Got a couple of couches, sleep on the love-seat
Someone came sayin’ I’m insane to complain
About a shotgun wedding and a stain on my shirt
Don’t believe everything that you breathe
You get a parking violation and a maggot on your sleeve
So shave your face with some mace in the dark
Savin’ all your food stamps and burnin’ down the trailer park
Yo. cut it.
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(double barrel buckshot)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
Forces of evil on a bozo nightmare
Ban all the music with a phony gas chamber
’cuz one’s got a weasel and the other’s got a flag
One’s on the pole, shove the other in a bag
With the rerun shows and the cocaine nose-job
The daytime crap of the folksinger club
He hung himself with a guitar string
A slab of turkey-neck and it’s hangin’ from a pigeon wing
You can’t write if you can’t relate
Trade the cash for the beef for the body for the hate
And my time is a piece of wax fallin’ on a termite
who’s chokin’ on the splinters
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(get crazy with the cheese whiz)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(drive-by body-pierce)
(yo bring it on down)
Soooooyy….
?em llik uoy t’nod yhw os ,ybab resol a m’I rodedreP nu yos
[It's the Chorus backwards]
(I’m a driver, I’m a winner; things are gonna change I can feel it)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(I can’t believe you)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(Nlehh…)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(Sprechen Sie Deutsch hier, Baby!)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(know what I’m sayin’? )