Don't Get Me Started with Linda Sharp

Watt's UP, Doc?

Emergency room doctors are fun to hang out with. Not just because they can offer insta-diagnosis over beer and chips, are skilled at carving your Thanksgiving bird, or have a high tolerance for idiots - having been exposed to every level of them on their midnight to 8am shift.

Rather, they are fun to have at parties because they have no end of entertaining stories to offer the conversation. And what, you ask, might they talk about? Band-aids? Sutures vs medical grade super glue? Self inflicted gunshot wounds to the armpit?

Oh ye of little imagination.

Sure, there are those stories, but most ER docs could write a book detailing their adventures and open a museum with all the objects they are called upon to remove from their fellow human beings.

Think not?

When's the last time your desk job required you to extract something from someone's ass? (And NO, the stick retained in your boss's orifice doesn't count.)

Meet the doctor (who wishes to remain anonymous) in Pakistan who was on deck in the ER when police brought in an inmate, Fateh Mohammad, from a nearby prison.

Mohammad had woken up one morning and began complaining of severe pain in his anal region. (Not unusual in a men's prison, you say? Well, your filthy mind aside, he apparently had no "buddies" of that sort - wait, would that be "butties"? Nevermind...)

Guards finally transported him to the hospital where an x-ray revealed an entire, intact, glass light bulb looking for an outlet, as it were.

Now, Mohammad swore on his Quran that he had no idea watt was going on or how it came to be wedged in his anatomy. He surmises that guards or other prisoners must have drugged him and then planted the bulb like an Easter tulip.

Doctors don't buy it.

People, in general, are notorious for wedging items up their cabooses for "fun" or "pleasure" and then having things derail when they get caught, stuck, or otherwise begin to cause pain. Apples, Coke bottles, marbles, gerbils - you name it - I bet an ER doctor has had to fork one out of someone's rectum at some point in their residency.

Prisoners are notorious for either swallowing odd objects - batteries, scissors, tweezers, reams of paper - or inserting objects down yonder - an ice pick, tin cup, toothbrush, parsnip - in order to be taken from the prison, albeit briefly, and enjoy the pampering provided in a hospital.

Call me crazy, but even with my overstressed-three-kids-carpool-pay-bills-deadline existence, you will never find me eating a mortar and pestle with my anus in order to "get away from it all" and enjoy the green Jell-o in a hospital.

Butt, I digress... (like you didn't think I would work that in.)

The doctor in Pakistan perfomed a 1 1/2 hour emergency surgery and managed to remove the light bulb in one piece. For his part, Mohammad praised Allah for finally being pain-free and able to eat his breakfast.

No word on whether the bulb was regular or HOWLogen.

For reference (and because I take perverse pleasure in the stupidity of my fellow humans), I present to you this list from a 1986 issue of Surgery Magazine...(I have humbly editorialized in parentheses for your enjoyment.)

Objects In Rectum and Number Recovered From 182 cases

Glass or ceramic

Bottle or jar - 32 (The doctor turned them in and got 78 cents for recycling.)

Bottle with attached rope - 1 (At least this person had a plan for removal...)

Glass or cup - 12 (No wonder the cupboard is always bare...)

Light bulb - 7 (and Mohammad thought he was being original...)

Tube  - 6 (Inner?  Of toothpaste?  Steak?)

Food

Apple - 1 (An apple a day...)

Banana - 2 (Holds no appeel for me.)

Carrot  - 4 (Did someone dangle it there to entice the gerbil?)

Cucumber - 3 (Old joke, but true joke, I guess.)

Onion  - 2 (And you think they give you bad breath...)

Parsnip  - 1 (you didn't think I made that up did you?)

Plantain (with condom) - 1 (safe sex with a plantain!?!)

Potato - 1 (The kind you get in a steakhouse or those little red boiler kind?)

Salami - 1 (Genoa or Oscar Meyer?  It says a lot about the person...)

Turnip  - 1 (What the hell else are you going to do with them?)

Zucchini  - 2 (People are always growing too many of these damned things.)

Wooden

Ax handle - 1 (Paul Bunyon would be disgusted.)

Stick or broom handle - 10 (Multi-tasking?  Clean the counters and floor at the same time?)

Miscellaneous or unspecified  - 3 (splinters? branches? fake legs?)

Sexual Device

Vibrator - 23

Dildo - 15

(These speak for themselves - at least the expensive Swedish versions do...or so I've heard..ahem.)

Curling iron - 1 (I really hope it wasn't turned on.)

Collections (one case of each)

Kitchen device

Dull knife - 1 (well, if you're going to insert a knife...)

Ice pick - 1 (All I can say is that you have got to have a high pain threshold.)

Knife sharpener - 1 (for that dull knife)

Mortar and pestle  - 2 (See? I did not make it up.)

Spatula (plastic) - 1 (I'll never look at my Williams Sonoma utensil the same way again)

Spoon - 1 (Prison fave.)

Tin cup - 1 (Another prison staple.)

Miscellaneous tools

Candle - 1 (It is dark in there, you know...)

Flashlight - 3 (Had to see to light the candle.)

Iron rod - 1 (Now where did I leave that fireplace poker??)

Pen - 2 (Personally, this would not be something to write home about.)

Screwdriver - 1 (For when your butt's in a knot?)

Toothbrush - 1 (Really good hygiene, I guess.)

Wire spring - 1 (It poked up out of the mattress, I swear!)

Inflated device

Balloon - 1 (Not a hot air one, I hope.)

Balloon attached to cylinder - 1 (What the...?)

Condom - 1 (Only one?!?!  I find that surprising.)

Ball

Baseball - 2 (I was sliding into home when the catcher bent down...)

Tennis ball - 1 (That Agassi has a wicked serve.)

Pool cue ball - 1 (Talk about a scratch...)

Miscellaneous containers

Candle box - 1 (We already know where the candle is.)

Shampoo Bottle - 1 (Those things do get slippery in the shower.)

Snuff box - 1 (See?  Tobacco can kill you!)

Miscellaneous

Bottle cap ** - 1 (Drunken frat boy tried to open beer with his ass.)

Cattle horn - 3 (Drunken rodeo clown tried to open bull with his ass?)

Chain (gold) - 1 (NO! You can't have your promise necklace back!)

Frozen pig's tail - 1 (I don't even want to know.  Were they out of gerbils?)

"Kangaroo tumor" - 1 (How does one obtain such a thing to begin with?)

Hair Mousse Cap - 1 (Admit it, you're always losing the cap too.)

Plastic rod - 1 (the kind you hang a shower curtain on?)

Stone - 2 (Smooth river rock, I would hope.)

Toothbrush holder - 1 (Goes with that toothbrush above)

Toothbrush package - 1 (The garbage can was full.)

Whip handle - 2 (Even S&M tools are sometimes defective.)

2 Glass tubes (And the Science teacher blamed the class...)

72 1/2 Jeweler's saw (Excuse me?)

Oil can with potato stopper (I am trying to picture this contraption, but keep envisioning the Tin Man naked...)

Piece of wood, peanut (It's all he had lying around.)

Umbrella handle and enema tubing (Must have been a boring, rainy day?)

2 Glasses (Less to clean up in the kitchen?)

Phosphorus match ends (homicide) (Someone was trying to light that candle and the other person blew up?  Would that be arse-en?)

402 Stones (I knew I couldn't have gained fifty pounds overnight!)

Toolbox (Are we talking Christmas stocking sized or one of those big Orange Black & Decker jobs from Home Depot?)

2 Bars soap (Slippery little suckers.)

Beer glass and preserving pot (No room in the dishwasher?)

Lemon and cold cream jar (Refreshing and moisturizing at the same time.)

2 Apples (In this case they did not keep the doctor away)

Spectacles, suitcase key, tobacco pouch, and magazine (Damn airlines!  See, this is what happens when you're only allowed ONE carry-on bag!)

Can You Beer Me Now? Good.

Ain't technology grand?

Whether it's zapping my burrito at 7-11, strapped to my head so I may converse and scrub toilets simultaneously, or allowing me to back up and do a frame by frame dissection of an American Idol performance, I'm a big fan of gadgetry.

And why not? It makes life easier. Yours, mine, ours - we communicate faster, eat hot meals that were frozen solid only minutes earlier, access cash when all the banks are closed, and load our MP3 players with only the songs we like.

The advancements in space-optimizing, time-saving, ease-making gidgets and gadgets are daily, with so many new products and gizmos entering the market, that it is often hard to believe we ever lived without them.

I can well remember when VCRs and cell phones entered our lives. Being able to buy and watch Top Gun in my own home?!?! And you mean I can drive and talk at the same time?!?!?

WHOA.

Of course videos cost $50 and cell phones weighed 50 pounds, but still...

Heck, I remember when one of the uncool kids in my neighborhood got an Atari. Nothing like Pong to turn a zit faced 14 year old into a cul-de-sac rock star. I'm sure he lost his virginity thanks to that magic white dot on his TV screen.

My own kids have never known anything but buttons, convenience, and personal use electronics. They own cell phones, iPods, Gameboys, docking stations for their iPods, Gamecube, personal DVD players, and have a player in the minivan so no trip, regardless of length, feels anything less than a visit to AMC theaters.

Remember when a family roadtrip included games such as Counting Cows (my sister ALWAYS cheated), the License Plate Game (I still don't believe she saw one from Alaska.), and the Alphabet Game (She lies like a son-of-a-bitch at every game - no sign has a V, Z, and an X, Kim.)?

I don't think my kids even know what a cow looks like, much less would be willing to count the damned things for 500 miles.

But times change and that's ok. Adapting is how we separate ourselves from the animals who continue to chew their butts and eat one another for fun.

Seriously, give a den of lions a few cell phones that play Shakira's Hips Don't Lie when they ring, and have Solitaire and Tetrus loaded on them, and I bet the Wild Somalian Ass would no longer be in danger of being eaten into extinction...

But I digress...I actually was going somewhere besides Somalia with all this.

It seems that a new advancement in cell phone technology was unveiled at the recent International Gadgetpalooza held each year in Las Vegas: A cell phone with a built in Breathalyzer.

Yes, that's right. Booze it up, blow into your phone, and call a taxi.

Or something like that.

The manufacturers - LG of Korea - have engineered the new phones to be able to ascertain whether you are, in fact, too inebriated to get behind the wheel of a car. Simply blow into a small hole on the phone and if you've had too much to drink the phone issues a warning and shows a weaving car hitting traffic cones.

"Can you keep my ass out of jail and from bedding down with the loser boyfriend I dumped last week? Good."

A bit wordy maybe, but I think it gets the point across.

Good idea, right? Of course it is. Anything that stands even a remote chance of stopping someone from drunk driving is positive. The problem is, however, that most drunk folk are not exactly in possession of their faculties, let alone the one that steps in and says, "Hey you shitfaced wanker, blow into this hole. I think you may need to leave your Prius parked in that alley and catch a cab tonight."

But again, it's a positive step...

Personally, I am more jazzed about the phone's other unique ability. If your blood alcohol registers .08 or higher, the phone won't let you dial certain preprogrammed phone numbers, basically acting as a barrier between you and the dreaded-always-regretted drunken hook-up.

You know, fourteen Margaritas, a weepy phone call to an ex, sex you can't quite remember, but once sober wish to God that you could forget...

Not that I personally know of whence I type...ahem...

The Breathalyzer-CloseYourThighser phones are expected to roll out here in the USA sometime next year.

And I, for one, am glad. Not that I need one, thankyouverymuch. Rather, I have three daughters growing up in this mucked up world of ours, and any gadget that keeps them from making mistakes is good by me.

I wonder what the marketing slogan will be?

When Will Refugees Ever Truly Find Refuge?

Today is World Refugee Day.

A day to stop and think about the millions of people globally who have been forced by violence to flee their homes, villages and families - desperately running to anywhere that might offer some degree of safe haven.

Unfortunately, like the other 364 days of the year, most people will not stop to consider the trauma and upheaval, or the agony and death, being experienced every single second on this planet.

It's not that people, on the whole, don't care. The majority of people you live with on this big blue marble, DO. They have good hearts, good intentions.

The problem is, as I have often stated, a person's degree of compassion, caring, and support are directly proportional to their proximity to the suffering.

911 happened. In our country. Our money flowed as easily as our tears. Hurricanes hit, levees break, towns are wiped away - in our country - again, we stay on top of the news developments and send our contributions to the Red Cross.

Entire villages are burned to the ground, entire generations of family wiped from the face of this planet.  Men are slaughtered in front of their loved ones, their only respite in death is not having to watch their wives and young daughters mercilessly gang raped immediately after. In Africa.

Where are the tears? Where is all the money? Where is the outcry of all the decent people in this, the supposedly most powerful nation on Earth?

Do these people not matter? Is it that impossible, in our McMansioned-overweight- overprivileged-self involved-Paris-Hilton-Lindsay-Lohan society to open our eyes to the devastation, cruelty and genocide being experienced daily?

Imagine it...

It's Saturday morning, there you are, eating your breakfast of Wheaties and Starbucks, your two children happily playing Checkers on the living room floor while some Disney movie plays in the background. Suddenly you smell smoke and look out the window to see your neighbor's home ablaze, a large gang of armed men dragging them out on the lawn by their hair. Before you can even open your mouth to holler to your spouse and kids, your windows are broken, the doors kicked in, and fifteen men rush in, grabbing your ten year old daughter and proceeding to rape her in front of you while you are restrained, helpless to rescue her. Then for good measure, they shove a knife up her vagina, and as you both scream, you are summarily shot in the head. Your spouse and other child have somehow managed to escape out a window and are on the run with other fleeing neighbors. Nothing but the clothes on their backs - your son not even wearing any shoes. They end up walking fifty miles and wind up in a soccer stadium with 100,000 others, at the mercy of aid workers, and very limited supplies. The latrine is a pit dug at the far end of the field. This will be their new home for weeks, perhaps years. They do not know that they will never see you or your daughter again. They do not know you are both dead.

Can't happen? It does.

Every. Single. Day.

Just not here in the United States.  But really, all that separates us from the carnage is a body of water.  That's it.

The plight of these people has got to come to the center of the global stage. We all have to rise up on their behalf and step in, offering financial assistance to world aid organizations, eradicating the oppressors, tracking down those "militias" who steal village children in the night, brainwashing them and turning them into additional killers. We must insist the nations of the world come together for those who are being torn apart.

Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt, and George Clooney can't do it alone.

On this World Refugee Day, educate yourself. One trip to CNN.com will give you a good start. I warn you the details are not pretty, in fact, they are stomach turning at best.  But read, learn, feel the indignation rise in your soul and the bile rise in your throat.

Then maybe, just maybe, when we all get sick enough, we can begin to make a difference and provide these refugees with what they truly need - REFUGE.

Soccer Is My World Cup Of Tea

Something very serious has happened to me in the past four days and I fear I am losing control.

Addiction.

The word itself is simple, the meaning behind it, crippling.

I would never have believed it was possible to go from being a casual dabbler to a heavy user in less than a week, but here I sit, itchy, twitchy, counting the hours till my supplier shows up in the morning.

My home is getting dirty - cleaning just doesn't seem a priority.  Food?  Feh.  While in the throes of a solid high I go hours without even a trace thought to physical nourishment.  My email is backing up, I know I have bills I need to pay, errands I must run, and my dog reminded me she needed fed last night by throwing her bowl at my head.

Help.

I mean is there any scientific data available to help me understand the power of stimulant addiction and just how one faces the inevitability of having to go cold turkey once the main supply has run dry?

Don't answer that. I don't think I could possibly give this up - it feels too good, it makes my blood race faster through my veins, in fact, I find myself screaming, pacing, cheering, kicking, and exulting as the high kicks in...

But...addiction is WRONG, right? I should get help. I should go on the offensive and fight harder to overcome these foul demons.

Alas, I do not believe there is any 12 step program available with the goal of overcoming this particular addiction, so perhaps I should start one for my fellow sufferers (and I know there are millions...)

Here goes...

Hello, my name is Linda Sharp, and I am a World Cupaholic.

That's right - it's June 2006 - meaning the World Cup is once again runnething over, this time in Germany, where teams have come from all over the world to participate in what is truly the globe's game: SOCCER.

Sure, we Americans may slobber over football, but it is futball that makes the world go round. Soccer is an international language, with followers more faithful and dedicated than those found in most religions. The "beautiful game" has been played for centuries, with America coming to the soccer party late, and we are still dribbling full speed to catch up with the international clubs that turn players like Beckham and Ronaldinho into rock stars.

I admit, my own invitation to the soccer world must have gotten lost in the mail because I have only discovered the joy and the artistry of the game since my own children began playing roughly four years ago.

They play at the recreational level, and as they have learned, so have I. As they have grown proficient in their skills, I, too, have embraced this sport which often times only produces a single digit score at the end of each game.

To those who don't "get it" - and I completely admit, I used to be one of them (not good for someone married to a man who attended college on a soccer scholarship), a 1 - 0 score isn't exactly thrilling. Those 78-23 basketball scores and 38-15 football finals seem to hold more excitement.

That couldn't be more wrong.

And watching these World Cup participants - some of the world's most fit athletes - is to come away humbled by the stamina, endurance, and years of practice that go into being able to pull off a 1 - 0 win.

That single point - and rarely do professional level soccer game scores go higher than the number 3 or 4 - is the result of 90+ minutes of constant running, timing, accuracy, teamwork, footwork, forethought, speed, patience, and oftentimes, plain old luck.

When a game goes 0 - 0, it is easy to think, "Oh big whoop. You mean no one even scored?"

Such was the case with the 0 - 0 game I watched today between France and Switzerland. The score may be boring on paper, but the watching was anything but. These two teams played with every fiber of their being, suffering injuries, frustrations, sweating gallons of fluid that drenched their bright new uniforms.

And for what? To score nada?

Yes.

In tournament play, that gets them one point - added towards what they can knock out in the next two games they play.  And that one point may make the difference between moving out of their group and having to wait for the next World Cup in 2010.

Watching the games is a quick way to discover just how geographically ignorant you are.  Again, these teams come from everywhere, countries large and small, remote and easily accessible, industrial and highly millenniumized.  For instance, most people can find England or Spain, but can you point to Trinidad and Tobago on a map?  How about Togo?  Probably not, which means, like me, you'd be surprised to also learn these countries play soccer at such a high level.

I think what has addicted me the quickest is not just the skill level and the good looking hard bodies from every country, no, rather it is the amazing sportsmanship being displayed by all these men. Sure, there are fouls, in a soccer game those are inevitable. There have even been a couple men red carded (ejected) from the games for dangerous plays or abysmal behavior, but those are far and few between.

The overriding thing I see are hundreds of men who respect the heck out of one another and the skills they bring to the pitch. They pat each other on the backs, check on opposing team members when they train wreck into one another to make sure they are OK, and at the end of these hard fought battles, exchange jerseys with their position rivals as a sign of respect and admiration for a game well played.

My daughters - budding soccer stars both - have been glued to the TV with me. They study the footwork, plays, passing, artistry and positioning (and the hot guys), learning more they are now eager to take into their next season of play.

But they, too, have also noted the way the players behave towards one another - whether the outcome is victory, defeat, or a seemingly boring 0-0 draw, and I know they will take that with them as well the next time they take the field.

Today I witnessed the reigning World Cup champs - Brazil, favored to again emerge victorious in July and arguably comprised of the finest players in the world - in their first 2006 World Cup game - this one against underdog Croatia. (To Croatia's credit, they played spectacularly, losing by that single point, 1-0)

While much has been written and trumpeted about Brazil's artistry, skill and level of play on the field, and it is all true - to watch Ronaldinho, Ronaldo, Emerson and Kaka is to watch a gorgeously choreographed (albeit sweaty) Swan Lake - what struck me the most is that they play with joy. They play with verve. They play like my daughters - because they love the game.

Sure, they love their millions of dollars in salary and endorsements too, but I daresay, were the cars, money and babes taken away? They would play anyway.

And that is why I am now firmly in the grips of this addiction. Yes, my ability to watch owes a great deal to my actual understanding of the game itself, but my enjoyment - my high, if you will, comes from watching a bunch of highly skilled, full grown men who welcome their inner children onto the field to play with them.

Now, you'll have to excuse me ... there are three games tomorrow and I need to go set my TiVo...

My name is Linda Sharp...and I am a World Cupaholic. Someone pass the soccer bong, please...

Ban Same Sex Marriage? How About A Moratorium On All Sex Stupidity?

As I type this, the Senate is convening to debate and vote on a proposed amendment banning same sex marriages.

Well, they won't be voting on the actual amendment, although given the level of lobbying and news coverage, the average Joe on the street would say they are.

Rather the Senate will be voting on a procedural motion to cut off debate, which requires 60 votes to pass. The motion is expected to fail, effectively blocking the measure from clearing the Senate.

So, basically - they are meeting to cast a vote for something that has no hope of seeing daylight to begin with. It's smoke and mirrors and political posturing at its finest. A chance for politicians to appear to be championing for, or crusading against, those three loaded words: SAME. SEX. MARRIAGE.

President Bush has been traipsing across the country speaking at every Tupperware, Rotary Club, Longaberger Basket, Pampered Chef, and Girl Scout meeting, lecturing on the "sanctity of marriage", and upholding the "traditional moral values upon which our country is founded."

That's a laugh.

Our founding fathers dressed in panty hose, wigs, and wore more make-up than Tammy Faye Baker. They also had multiple mistresses and freely copulated with the hired help.

But then they went to church every Sunday, so that made it ok.

One of Bush's latest quotes that really caught my eye was this one, "Ages of experience have taught us that the commitment of a husband and wife to love and to serve one another promotes the welfare of children and the stability of society."

Talk amongst yourselves while I finish laughing...

Yes, we heteros are such fine, upstanding, moral folk that the divorce rate is now OVER 50%. We straight people are the ones for whom phrases like "green card marriage" (in which one of us marries a foreigner to give them US residency status in exchange for something really romantic - like cash), "trial marriage" and "first marriage" (made popular by twenty-somethings who view marriage as something wholly disposable or something that can go out of style like gauchos and bell bottoms).

We bring children into loveless relationships, sentencing them to a life of uncertainty and insecurity. Honestly, the number of children in my daughter's fourth grade class with married parents was seven. SEVEN OUT OF TWENTY-TWO.

President Bush, I ask you, where in that real world number do you see a shining example of a child's welfare being promoted or society's stability being reinforced?

Suffering as I do with bullshit intolerance, like many folks do with lactose, this issue sets my mental colon on fire. The ignorance and bigotry that tries to hide behind statements such as Bush's is shameful.

Gay people and their emotions are not something to be legislated. They are PEOPLE, period. They love, hate, eat, sleep, drink, laugh, cry, live and die just like any Bible banging heterosexual.

No, wait - I take that back. Bible banging heterosexuals openly hate and hide behind The Good Book. I've never met a gay person who does that.

The Good Book. That is laughable too. Any book that instructs someone to hate another person is not "good". The Bible was written, adapted, edited, chopped up, rewritten, squished together, retold, and spun by PEOPLE - it did not float down to Earth attached to a balloon with a Hallmark card signed by God.

PEOPLE take its words, selecting portions they then twist to suit their own causes and prejudices. This is precisely why I do not go to church. Churches are full of people convinced they are one step closer to heaven than the people in the church one block over.

I believe in God, I do not believe in religion. I believe in treating my fellow human beings - even the stupid, bigoted, hateful ones - with grace. That does not, however, mean I will not call them out when they are acting badly or espousing pure crap.

Have these people, the ones who think homosexuals are the scourge of the Earth, ever met one? Spent time with one? Been friends with one?

Yes, yes, yes - although most of them probably did not know it. Homosexuals don't typically go around saying, "Hi, I'm Larry and I'm gay." But then, I'm straight, and I know I certainly don't greet new people with, "Hey, I'm Linda and I like the dick."

The truth is, every single one of my gay friends is more decent, loving, open minded, accepting, honest, and dedicated than any of my straight friends. And considering that they have lived their lives on the receiving end of societal hate and bias, I find it pretty remarkable that they ALL have a "shit doesn't run downhill" attitude, meaning they do not hate in return or pass on the bad that is directed towards them.

Love is a human being's capacity to care beyond reason about another person. It is not the sole domain of heterosexuals. We don't hold some kind of patent on the emotion. And in this insufferable, mucked up, shit-laden world of ours, if someone, anyone, can find it with another person, why shouldn't they be allowed to rejoice and pledge themselves to one another in a marriage ceremony?

Is the idea of two gay people marrying really that threatening? If so, I'd like to know how. How does it threaten my heterosexual existence? How does it corrupt a society whose fabric is already moth-eaten and threadbare? How does it interrupt my daily life?

Because they have sex with each other?

Kids, I have news for you. "They" are not having any more sex than you and I. And my inbox is stuffed with emails from straight women and men complaining of the lack of it in their married lives, so I know "we" are not having it very often.

According to Republican Senator David Vitter, "I don't believe there's any issue that's more important than this one."

Really?

Don't things like the warce (war+farce) in Iraq, border control, the genocide in Darfur, the first picture of Shiloh Jolie-Pitt ring a bell?

I want my representatives to concentrate on things that actually affect my life, the lives of my children. I want them to work on the mounting deficit that is being heaped upon my kids. I want them to step up and lead the charge in Darfur. I want them to weed out every corrupt, duplicitous, advantage-taking f*ck-up in their ranks and prosecute them fully. I want them to act on things that matter.

I am an ordained minister. I would gladly officiate at the wedding of two gay men or two lesbian women. And I would celebrate the love that they have managed to find.

Because even if every gay and lesbian person got married tomorrow, when it comes to "making a mockery of marriage", they will never catch up to we heteros.

That 50+% divorce rate is a hard act to follow.