Lesbian Detective Laura McCallister

If I were in charge, losing a child would earn a person immunity. He or she has scaled the pinnacle of pain; it should all be downhill from there. If I were in charge.

Today, however, I’m still not in charge, and so my thoughts go out to Elizabeth Edwards. The world needs as many good hearts as possible. I think she has one, and I hope it keeps beating strong for a long time to come.

Keep slugging, Mrs. Edwards!

Italy is cracking down on television broadcasters who crank up the volume on commercials. Survey Says: “83% of the adverts shown on three important Italian TV channels were broadcast with a volume level about 50% higher than the programmes they interrupted.”

Damn, I hate that!

Can’t the boys and girls in our Congress spend their time working on important legislation to ban this practice in the U S of A instead of wasting their time trying to make flags non-combustible and the rich untouchable? Oh, that’s right: the boys and girls are out for recess. Maybe after they put the dodge(d) balls back in the storage room, then? Please? Pretty please?

I mean come on! Some of us are insomniacs who use the TV as the tried and true cradle-rocker. The Sandwomen is tip-toing ever so near to bag her prey when some goddamn commercial loudly spews some spittle about Zestra, the feminine arousal fluid. Okay…so now I am rudely reminded that not only am I not getting sleep, I’m not getting laid either. Thanks so much for that! Then a parade of men beller about their fricking ED. GD ED! F U ED! E(at shit and) D(ie) ED!

Instead of being lulled into a peaceful sleep, I toss and turn with nightmares about heterosexual chemical sex.

“Here, honey, slather this on your much-too-private parts.”

“Oh, thank you, dear, and here, you down this little blue pill so your way-too-public parts can salute this handy dandy non-combustible U S of A flag and my itch won’t be untouchable.”

“Yes, and by the time this reaches my bloodstream, we can…zzzzzzzzz…”

Yeah, Italians do it better.