Bwahahahahaha!

I actually thought those were the words until two months ago when my girlfriend caught me singing it and gentle corrected me. After laughing her ass off and telling all her friends what a dork I am.

Gotta love the Cubans and the Vietnamese. They know how to nip this b.s. in the bud.

Please try a Ritz on Velveeta,
it's not so gouda,
it tastes my sweetah,
wah wah wah waaaaah waaaaaah
wah wah wah waaaaaaaaah

Babalu is a great blog.

"The Motorcycle Diaries" was supposed to air Monday evening as part of the heritage festival's lineup

Running right before the glam job on Pinochet? Oh, wait. "Heritage" means "what few things we anglo lefties like about you swarthy types." Nevermind.

Bolivia, it's not that I don't appreciate you, I do-- I really do. It's just that, well, I've grown since then. And you, what with your work and all. . . I'm sorry, I just think it would be the for best for the both of us to see other countries right now.

Hugs and kisses 4ever,
Dave at Garfield Ridge

The Motorcycle Diaries" was supposed to air Monday evening as part of the heritage festival's lineup

It's actually a pretty good film.

If you take poetic license, you can make a great film out of anybody.
Che couldn't drive a motorcycle.

But there's a warm wind blowin' the stars around

What a perfect, poetic lyric.

I'm not kidding.
I hope Ace doesn't think I'm Gay now.

I. Hate. That. Song. Almost as much as I hate that "Sometimes When We Touch" song. I should post the lyrics to that song here in revenge.

"But there's a warm wind blowin' the stars around

'What a perfect, poetic lyric

'I'm not kidding.
'I hope Ace doesn't think I'm Gay now.'"

I'm pretty sure (much to my discomfort) that the lyric is, "But there's a warm wind blowin' the stars are out."

And I don't think you need to worry so much about Ace thinking you're gay. From what I hear, Val-U-Rite is what did Bob Dole in.

Che was an executioner for Fidel, among other things. He used to love to torment political prisoners by showing them the execution wall with its blood stains before they were shot. I'll bet you money, Ace, that THAT little fact will not be in the film. What is it with Leftists and murderers - Che, Saddam, etc, etc ad naseum.

It's actually a pretty good film.

In the message it delivers or the way it delivers the message?

What is it with Leftists and murderers

The left whacks people who disagree with them out of ideological zeal.

The right whacks them only when it makes good business sense to do so.

Falling in combat? Bitch got captured and executed. That's definitely an après ski sort of revolutionary death. Best fucking thing the Bolivians ever did was ventiliating the turd.

My best friend's family got kicked out of Cuba by the commies. Want to see a grown woman get really, really angry? Point out the bubble-headed co-ed on Spring Break with the Che t-shirt stretched over her inadequately-scaffolded tits the other side of the bar.

Thanks for the link, Ace. And especially for helping spread the word on the murderous tshirt icon.

It is indeed long overdue to pay such a tribute to Bolivia, and to its founder and namesake, Simon Bolivar, for whom everything in Bolivia is named.

One can only admire the simplicity and efficiency of this when gazing at the majestic Bolivar monument, adjacent to the Bolivar school and across from the splendid Bolivar Library - all conveniently located at the intersection of Bolivar at Bolivar.

It is little known and long forgotten that it was suspected that the enlarged section of B's in the Bolivian phone book - relative to the rather paltry G's - that caused Mr. Guevara to begin his revolution in the first place.

It can be extrapolated then, that the death of Che' led directly to the formation of the Bee Gee's, and to the end of music as the artform it once was.

And that friends, is the missing connection between Che' and the insipid song noted in the post.

In the UN Plaza in San Francisco, between the pillars listing the dates when each nation joined, and SF City Hall, there's an equestrian statue of Bolivar, donated (I think) by SAmerican governments as some sort of pan-American solidarity gesture or something?

It is indeed heartwarming to know, should the entire continent of South America slip slowly into the sea, that a few measly hundred of Bolivar Statues should be preserved, albeit sprinkled about in unlikely places.

What is it with Leftists and murderers - Che, Saddam, etc, etc ad naseum.

The left is obessed with power and thus have a natural affinity with those who use it openly and unapologetically to get what they want. Especially those who "stick it to the man", for example criminals such as Mumia, Leonard Peltier, Che, Mao, etc.

I spent about a month in Cuba for the Pan Am Games in 1991. While there I experienced some rather extraordinary events that confirmed everything I had ever heard about the place.

Our first trip was a planning mission to meet Castro and the Cuban congress, which included dinner at Castro’s home – a city block square “palace”. Castro was able to spend about 10 minutes with each of us, and, although he spoke only Spanish it was obvious that he understood English perfectly well. Even in another language and despite my abhorrence of everything he stood for, his charisma was palpable.

The “feast” was the Cuban version of Arabian Nights with tables and tables of food of all kinds. It was strange looking at that and then out the window where I could see ordinary Cubans, who would never see this much food in a lifetime. Nor were they allowed to shop in special stores, reserved only for Cuban party members and tourists.

The later trips were longer and during breaks in the competition we got a chance to see something of the island. Havana bay, with the city on a hill overlooking, is indeed one of the most captivating sights, as has been observed in prior comments. This is easily the prettiest location in the Caribbean, if not all of Latin America. Absent Castro’s regime, this would be the hottest tourist spot ever.

When you get closer though you begin to see what time, neglect and abject poverty have done to everything. What strikes you is the grayness of the place, you know the color that stone and wood gets to – like East Berlin in the Soviet era. The buildings have not been painted since 1960 and many of the cars are 1950’s Chevy’s held together by duct tape and bailing wire. If you ever need a good mechanic get a Cuban one, they can fix anything.

As part of the competition we were tested at the Cuban hospitals that were plentiful and clean. Medical equipment has come a long way since 1960, but not in Cuba.

On one of our final nights as we walked back along the beach, we were propositioned by a seller of black market cigars. (Cigars are legally sold only in special government stores). We said no, but shortly thereafter were confronted by a guy looking like a derelict who inquired as to the business of the cigar seller. We told him and then the derelict went over to the cigar guy, took out a gun, and shot him in the leg. Derelict was secret police.

“We don’t have crime here”, was the claim constantly made by our “guides”. Well no, I guess not.

As it happened when I came home I ended up in a discussion of Cuba with some fairly leftwing liberals that it has been my misfortune to know. They had been raised on the myth of a wonderful Cuba: the advanced state of women, health care for all, etc.

Nothing I could say or do could dissuade them of these notions. Basic rights seemed not to matter at all to them, or the poverty and repression of a Stalinist State – they only wanted to show me how “wrong” was America.

Wow, Robert that is quite the story.

We said no, but shortly thereafter were confronted by a guy looking like a derelict who inquired as to the business of the cigar seller. We told him and then the derelict went over to the cigar guy, took out a gun, and shot him in the leg. Derelict was secret police.

Snitch. Couldn't you have told the guy you didn't understand what the man was saying to you?

My wife and I were driving somewhere a few days ago and this song pops onto the pablum rock station she likes to listen to. I informed her in know-it-all fashion that the lyric was "commitment" and that I had just figured it out after all these years. Ugh-oh.

It always sounded like this to me:

I'm not talking about m' linen

Hey, if England Dan and John Ford Coley can sport some hellacious 70's hair, who am I to question why they would write a lyric about their linen?

I'm pretty sure they say "I'm not talkin' 'bout movin' in" in the song, although I do recall back in the day a caller to a radio show insisting that they said "millenium." Oh, and it's "blinded by the light revved up like a deuce another roller in the night" in case we get into that.