The get-skinny company is out with an arresting teevee commercial. An aww-too-cute little girl skips about, chanting that when she grows up she just wants to "float around in her pink bubble" and wave her "magic wand to make rainbows fall from the skies."
A narrator intones, "...remember when anything was possible? ... it still is."
Obama is furious and has directed Eric Holder to sue Weight Watchers for violating the copyright on his 2008 campaign message.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 12, 2014
Love your bean counters
They run around in nice suits and polished shoes, but it is rewarding to think of them as noble Transylvanian peasants. They tolerate a certain degree of evil, but when blood suckers cross the line, it is torches and pitch forks in the night.
I refer to auditors, and I all but worship them. You see, they try to keep the vampires in check and preserve that portion of my life blood not legally available for theft by the politicians and their familiars in the bureaucracy.
The latest instance from these parts has some officials down in southeast Iowa scurrying to come up with proposals for prison reform -- nice buffet meals, thick mattresses, etc. They might actually get it done, being as they are employees of the Department of Corrections, our state jailer.
State Auditor Mary Mosiman has ferreted out close to $800,000 in "improper expenditures " in one of those godawful "public-private partnerships." The actual bite is higher because some documents went missing before Mary's militia knocked on the door. How much higher we don't know, but I always apply a rule of thumb: Double reported theft to approach the actual total.
The honey dipping apparently began when some mid-level DOC nabobs decided to create, or foster, a not-for-profit 501c3 to help it administer its community corrections programs. My God how the money rolled in, from the state, the feds, and other sources. The state guys and their private-sector pals set up a cozy interlocking directorate and started an energetic game of catch. Bundles of money flew around the offices, no one worrying overmuch about who had the surest fielder's glove.
Sure enough, after about four years their budget started showing unexplained shortfalls. They could hide them for a while (Toss the money faster, Homer!) and succeeded in getting a c. $600,000 special appropriation from the legislature. That raised some eyebrows. Then, get this, one of the local boss men quickly went back to Des Moines for another $800,000. (Once I heard of a guy who left his driver's license on the counter of a Stop 'n' Rob that he stopped and robbed.)
To much even for Des Moines, the highest levels called Mary and said sic 'em.
Having sicced, Mary was good enough to turn the file (pdf) over to the attorney general's office. It would be nice if he does his job as well as she seems to do hers.
In fact, if I ever run across her, I think I'll give her a nice hug if she'll let me.
I refer to auditors, and I all but worship them. You see, they try to keep the vampires in check and preserve that portion of my life blood not legally available for theft by the politicians and their familiars in the bureaucracy.
The latest instance from these parts has some officials down in southeast Iowa scurrying to come up with proposals for prison reform -- nice buffet meals, thick mattresses, etc. They might actually get it done, being as they are employees of the Department of Corrections, our state jailer.
State Auditor Mary Mosiman has ferreted out close to $800,000 in "improper expenditures " in one of those godawful "public-private partnerships." The actual bite is higher because some documents went missing before Mary's militia knocked on the door. How much higher we don't know, but I always apply a rule of thumb: Double reported theft to approach the actual total.
The honey dipping apparently began when some mid-level DOC nabobs decided to create, or foster, a not-for-profit 501c3 to help it administer its community corrections programs. My God how the money rolled in, from the state, the feds, and other sources. The state guys and their private-sector pals set up a cozy interlocking directorate and started an energetic game of catch. Bundles of money flew around the offices, no one worrying overmuch about who had the surest fielder's glove.
Sure enough, after about four years their budget started showing unexplained shortfalls. They could hide them for a while (Toss the money faster, Homer!) and succeeded in getting a c. $600,000 special appropriation from the legislature. That raised some eyebrows. Then, get this, one of the local boss men quickly went back to Des Moines for another $800,000. (Once I heard of a guy who left his driver's license on the counter of a Stop 'n' Rob that he stopped and robbed.)
To much even for Des Moines, the highest levels called Mary and said sic 'em.
Having sicced, Mary was good enough to turn the file (pdf) over to the attorney general's office. It would be nice if he does his job as well as she seems to do hers.
In fact, if I ever run across her, I think I'll give her a nice hug if she'll let me.
Jan 10, 2014
My Lazarus experience
It isn't fraught with spirituality or human drama. It is downright bestial in fact.
The polar vortex exhausted my supply of ready firewood behind the burner. A warm and cuddly 30-degree day moved me to replenish from a ragged pile of cottonwood and oak out back, frozen through for months. The chore almost done, I placed one billet on top of the burner to dry the surface moisture.
A few minutes later I happened to glance at it, and my wondering eyes spied a happy little black bug. I named him Lazarus. Then I squished him.
It's too early for bugs in the house.
Jan 7, 2014
Clear overkill
No more back packs at St. Johns. They are the terrorist book bag of choice, also favored by kids who require a clandestine comic book against the chance of an especially boring geography lecture.
Seems to me school bosses are stopping too far short of absolute security. Why not transparent pockets in the kiddies' jeans and pinafores? And mandatory Lucite wallets, particularly useful in nabbing randy (and probably futiley hopeful) sixth-graders who carry a pack of those elastic things you get at the drug store.
An old-time school prank was floating a firecracker in a toilet bowl and lighting it off. Guys who got caught earned a paddle session and maybe a three-day suspension, but no one thought it a great reason to make Flossie Fine, the curve-breaking hall monitor, carry a see-through purse.
What happened at St. John's, you wonder? Nothing, actually, unless you quake at a couple of notes found in a rest room.
H/T Tam
Seems to me school bosses are stopping too far short of absolute security. Why not transparent pockets in the kiddies' jeans and pinafores? And mandatory Lucite wallets, particularly useful in nabbing randy (and probably futiley hopeful) sixth-graders who carry a pack of those elastic things you get at the drug store.
An old-time school prank was floating a firecracker in a toilet bowl and lighting it off. Guys who got caught earned a paddle session and maybe a three-day suspension, but no one thought it a great reason to make Flossie Fine, the curve-breaking hall monitor, carry a see-through purse.
What happened at St. John's, you wonder? Nothing, actually, unless you quake at a couple of notes found in a rest room.
H/T Tam
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