Well,this explains a great deal

Well,this explains a great deal of the incessant chatter from parents about their children, doesn't it?

Researchers at the Kinsey Institute began their study in
1999 by giving 200 married couples who were planning on starting
families within the next four years Intelligence Quotient (IQ) tests.
By 2003, all but 27 of these couples had conceived. Another IQ test was
given to each set of parents successful in conceiving and birthing a
baby six months after their child was born. These results were compared
to the previous intelligence tests.
In every single one of the 173 cases, both parents scored at least
twelve points lower on the second IQ test, with the majority of parents
losing twenty or more IQ points. Dr. Hosung Lee, director of the study,
was not surprised with the findings. “The research proved that our
hypothesis was correct. Having children does retard one̢۪s brain
activity, and since both parents lost intelligence, we must assume that
this loss has a psychological rather than biological cause.”

I'll be interested to see when their IQ goes back up again.

UPDATE: Direct quote from my sister, Christi, regarding this study.

how about this for a hypothesis? when you become a parent,
you have no room in your brain for really important things since you
have to suddenly remember all there is to know about emergency first
aid care and where the diaper rash ointment is and how to get the
seatbelts in this *&!!@#@! car seat to work right! that's my theory
and I'm sticking to it.

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DAMN! Nothing quite like nipple

DAMN!
Nothing quite like nipple piercing first thing in the morning, eh?

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Eugene Armstrong, one of two

Eugene Armstrong, one of two Americans and a Briton who were kidnapped last week in Iraq, has been beheaded and his body has been recovered.

Rusty at mypetjawa has
the relevant information and has a link to the video should you choose
to watch it for reasons other than you're a perverted fuck who gets
their jollies from watching beheading videos. I watched it. Tears are
pouring down my cheeks. I'm literally shaking with fury and disgust,
and not a little bit of fear. Oh, my God. Poor, poor man. Folks, if you
watch the video, you will know who your enemy is. Your enemy is not
George W. Bush. Your enemy is not Tony Blair. Your enemy is not even
the French. Your enemies are radical islamic terrorists who think
beheading someone is the best way to get what they want. Your enemies
are radical islamic terrorists who---ahem---WOULDN'T THINK TWICE ABOUT DOING THE SAME THING TO YOU SIMPLY BECAUSE YOU'RE A WESTERNER.
And that's not a bit of hyperbole I've thrown out there to enliven my
writing, or to make you pay attention. It's the awful truth of the
situation. It would be Al-Zarqawi's wet dream to come to America and
start doing this to each and every citizen of this country. And if
you're not clear about that, or you think it's Bush who should be
decapitated and that you'd pay good money to see that, you have your
priorities in the wrong place. No amount of understanding them and their "plight" is going to change the plain and simple fact that they want to kill you. Do you think they bother to understand us?
You don't think Zarqawi orgasmed himself ten-fold when his henchmen
brought in two Americans and a Briton? This is a man who stood, hooded,
behind a shaking and weeping Eugene Armstrong and calmly read a
manifesto for six minutes. He eagerly handed the piece of paper he'd
been reading from, salaamed and then whipped a knife from its scabbard
and went after poor, bound and blindfolded Eugene Armstrong for no other reason than that he was an American.

Think about that for a minute, would you? Eugene Armstrong deserves as much.

These men do not give quarter. They do not want to understand you. They do not want more diversity of belief and thought in the world. They want everyone in the world to be like them. To believe what they believe and they will stop at nothing
to get what they want. There is no chance to "make peace" with these
people. If you learned nothing on 9/11 perhaps you should learn this:
these people don't want a truce. They will never want a truce. They
want war. They've been taught to revel in death, that there is much
glory to be found in a previously ignominious life if they kill
infidels. And guess what, my western friend, you are their enemy. Learn
that. It might keep you alive one day. Oh, that poor, poor man. My
thoughts and prayers go out to Eugene's family.

Posted by: Kathy at 03:50 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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One of the best parts

One of the best parts about my new wi-fi card is that I'm no longer
limited in the amount of bandwidth I am allowed to suck up. It's great.
I can now go here and watch all the trailers I want without being
forced to sit through endless hiccups. I can even watch the "large"
version and not have it crash! Fabulous! So, watching trailers is my
new favorite past-time. Love it. Today, I saw one for this film and it set me to wondering. (You can view it here)

If Miramax, this documentary's distributor, spent oodles of time and money promoting Fahrenheit 911, well then are they going to do the same thing for---ahem---a movie that gets it right?

I'm not holding my breath, either.

Posted by: Kathy at 03:46 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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...of the Montana Supreme Court

...of the Montana Supreme Court for defending the privacy rights of puking underage drinkers!

Ah, don't you just love case law?

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There is something seriously therapeutic

There is something seriously therapeutic about digging in the garden.

Even despite the fact it's nintey-degrees outside.

Even despite the fact that I think I threw my back out splitting the monster hostas.

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...what would I ask Wonkette?

...what would I ask Wonkette?

Oh, this is too damn good to pass up, so I'll provide a few.

1. Is there a perceived difference between paid bloggers and bloggers who don't receive money for their opinions? If so, whose opinions do you think carry more weight in the blogosphere?

2. Have you ever experienced blogger backlash, wherein you were piled upon for your opinions? Have you taken it, er, up your whoopsidaisy in terms of decreased traffic and linking for one particular item you wrote?

3. You were quite fascinated a few months ago with the size of, er, one of the presidential candidates', er, uhm, equipment. Did this bring in lasting readership? Or was it pretty much a quickie in terms of traffic increases?

I could go on.

Posted by: Kathy at 03:08 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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{Insert Godlike Voice Here} As

{Insert Godlike Voice Here}

As it was commanded, so it shall be done. And it was done. And, thanks to pshop filters, it was done artfully.

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Oh, excellent. Someone opened the

Oh, excellent. Someone opened the door for me!

Last night I was watching What Not To Wear (the American
version, not the British version) as I was falling asleep. What the two
brigthly-smiling, heavily unpleasant, bitchy fashion advisors do is
publically humiliate a woman when introducing themselves, send her to
their NY studio, make her bring all her clothes to the studio so they
can throw away all the clothes while making (yet more!) humiliating
snide comments. The 2 advisors then give her a debit card with $5,000
so she can shop in Manhattan for a wardobe of elegant flattering
clothes.
Last night's victim was a woman that just finished her PhD in
psychology who would be working as a psychology professor (isn't she a
little young for that, I wonder?) in Canada. They sent her out to shop
in nice SoHo boutiques where the average price of a pair of slacks is
$300. They insisted she wear high heels to work. They told her she
shouldn't wear bulky sweaters. They admired her long legs and told her
she should wear short skirts.
Seems to me the advisors have been inhaling the heady fumes of the
fashionista for too long.{...}

Amen!

I loathe the American version of What Not To Wear.
Stacy and Clinton are snots. There's really no way of getting around
it. And they're snotty snots to boot. Well, it's more Stacy, but
Clinton never contradicts her, so he's complicit in the snottiness.
They give off a "we can do no wrong, but you obviously have, so we're
going to show you!" attitude and it's not only condescending as hell,
but is just really, really annoying. Then when its all said and done,
they pat themselves on the back as much as they possibly can. It's "we
saved her/him from themselves! Aren't we great?"
Nope.
The problem here is that I've watched the UK version more times than I
can count, and it's so
much better. The overall premise is the same. Friends and loved ones
nominate someone for a fashion overhaul. The hosts show up and announce
that said overhaulee has been nominated for a makeover, but that they
have to show up with their entire wardrobe, agree to let the girls go
through it, they will pitch what doesn't work, and show the overhaulee
what would work. Off goes the overhaulee to shop with these
guidelines in mind. So, it's essentially the same show, only the
American version has different hosts and an extra half-hour to waste.
But once you compare and contrast the two shows you quickly realize the
American version doesn't hold a candle to the UK version. Why?
The hosts. Trinny and Susannah
host the UK version. Now, I will cop to being surprised by them. The
promos I watched showed these two English chicks handing out completely
reasonable advice whilst being somewhat snarky about it. Their tag line
was (and still is) "Your best friends won't tell you what not to wear. But we're not your best friends. And we will."
I think you can probably understand that with the seriously posh
English accents they sport, this comes off sounding a bit snotty.
What's surprising, though, is while they are a bit snarky, they also
have a good deal of tact once the hard part has passed. It's tough
love, British style. They act very much like a pair of British grannies
who wonder what's become of the girl they know and love because she's
dressing in a completely unflattering fashion. They honestly want to
see the person look great, and if that takes a bit of honesty, well, so
be it. But what's different is that they temper that honesty with
kindness and understanding, boosting the overhaulee up, gently showing
them the way, once the flaws are revealed. For them, more than half the
battle is getting their subjects to like the body they've got, working
around imperfections with sensible and flattering choices in clothes.
Once they've leaped that hurdle, well, it's all downhill. Furthermore, they're always right. I have yet to see one of their subjects look ridiculous at the end of it. They always look great.

Stacy and Clinton, however, don't give you the impression that they care at all. Oh, sure they say
they do, but it doesn't come through. It's all about fashion! What is
somewhat different with the American version is that they have little
"confessionals" in the subject's hotel room after a hard day of
shopping. And invariably, they always say something like "oh, my God, I
didn't realize how horrible I looked! God, I've got to change because I
just look like shit." This always leads me to believe that the subjects
don't believe the advice they've been given, but rather are succumbing
to peer pressure. And, of course, they US version never seems to
recommend reasonably priced items. They always send these people out to
shop at the priciest places available and that five grand they hand out
doesn't go a long ways in New York. Particularly when you're replacing
an entire wardrobe.
I was watching the American version not too long ago, and I wound up
feeling really sorry for the subject when the show was over. She was a
graphic designer in her early-thirties. She worked from her home and
was fond of big sweaters and jeans that she thought were comfortable,
if not the latest and greatest from The Gap. She'd just been chosen as
one of the fifty most eligible bachleorettes in Chicago, and as such,
her family and friends thought she should look the part. This poor girl
was just mortified that her family and friends had set her up for this.
And I mean mortified. She couldn't believe people thought she'd dressed
poorly. She took care of herself. In every "before" photo they showed
of her, she was completely made up, with full hair and makeup, and
she had her nails professionally done, which as any woman can tell you
is a wonderful thing, but is also a major pain in the ass to keep up
with. When you go down the road of the manicure, you learn quickly that
it's a trip you'll be taking weekly. They just don't last longer than
that. And it's a good hour (plus travel time) out of your schedule to
keep your hands looking pretty. Because that's essentially what
manicures are about: keeping your hands looking pretty. They are not so
much the professionally coated nails everyone thinks they're about. If
weekly manicures aren't a sign that someone cares about their
appearance, I don't know what is. Well, off she goes to New York for
the consult and Stacy and Clinton were just mean. Between them and the
subject they were literally fighting over what went in the garbage can.
The next day, of course, the subject rebelled when she went shopping.
At first she tried to stick to the rules, but she couldn't find
anything in her size at the trendy boutique they'd sent her to (she was
bigger than a size zero. go figure. most of us are.) and became
seriously frustrated and said the hell with it and went and bought
things she liked. That night she felt pretty good about herself and her
choices. The next day, however, she was intercepted by Stacy and
Clinton and they berated her for her choices. "God. What is this?
It's awful! Do you really want to be suck in 1989?. That night, sure
enough, in her hotel room, completely broken-down, she decided it was
easier to drink the kool-aid than put up a fight any longer. Once she
drank the kool-aid, she was fine and was pliable for the hair and
make-up changes, and on the whole, was happy with the overall result.
When she went home and showed herself off it was apparent that she
wasn't the same person: she'd joined the fashionista cult. Resistance,
it very much seemed, was futile. She spent hours on her hair and
makeup. Her clothes, while spiffy for New York, didn't fit in at all in
Chicago and she looked somewhat ridiculous. But she was oblivious: she
was fabulous now and that's all that mattered, yet I couldn't help but
wonder how long the changes would stick once the cameras were gone.
With Trinny and Susannah, you get the feeling they've shown their
subjects a whole new side of themselves and that the changes will
stick. With Clinton and Stacy, well, the subjects have been shamed into
changing their ways and may rebel once the cameras are gone.
Ultimately, it's the difference between persuasion and coercion, and
how one is much more effective than the other. Stacy and Clinton
coerce. Trinny and Susannah persuade. I know who I'd rather have tell
me I dress like a slob. And it's not Stacy and Clinton. It's more than
likely, I'd wind up bitchslapping that snotty little brunette. UPDATE: 09/01/2004 Fausta makes a good point in the comments section
about overhaulee selection. I would have to agree with her about how
the UK version generally chooses people who are a bit stronger. Yet,
strangely enough, they all wind up coming over to the Good Side of the
Force in the end. Hmmmmm. Could it be persuasion, rather than making someone feel bad about themselves?

Posted by: Kathy at 02:51 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I'm very happy to announce

I'm very happy to announce that Miss Apropos aka Emma aka Margi Lowry has recently decided to come back to blogging! Yay. I have re-added her to the blogroll.

I've also added some other tasty comestibles to said blogroll. Check 'em out when you get the chance.

Posted by: Kathy at 02:29 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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What Some Might See When

What Some Might See When They Watch The Weather Channel. (click for supah-size)

Posted by: Kathy at 02:27 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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...Roy Horn's living in looney

...Roy Horn's living in looney land.

Speaking to German broadcaster RTL, German-born Roy Horn said the
tiger, called "Montecore," was trying to stop him from falling over on
stage after he suffered a dizzy spell. "It was an accident. Montecore
understood the signals and wanted to save me," the illusionist-animal
trainer said, adding: "It was unfortunate that his teeth hit my carotid artery."

{my emphasis}

It was unfortunate
that a friggin' tiger's teeth happened to connect with his cartoid
artery. The tiger's really friendly, really. He was just trying to save Roy rather than to use him as an appetizer. Uh-huh. {insert nodding of head here}

Posted by: Kathy at 02:11 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Well, that sucks. Winter just

Well, that sucks.

Winter just got longer.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:57 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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So, I'm having a few

So, I'm having a few dilemmas with this whole thing.
Shall I list them out?
Sure, we've got time to kill. Why the hell not?
Okeydokeysmoky.
1. As predicted, the husband, indeed, is thrilled. Which is making me
somewhat uncomfortable. Now, I shouldn't be uncomfortable with this. I
know. It's my husband. He's seen them before. It's just that he's so proud
that I would be doing this that I'm afraid his pride will cause him to
lose all sense of perspective and, subsequently, he will share the link
with all his gaming geek friends, pointing out exactly which set of
anonymous boobs are his wife's. {SHUDDER!} 2. Mr.H. had a good laugh
the other night about this whole thing. I assume he was mocking me. 3.
I have yet to suss out how I'm going to, erm, showcase my wares. And there will be showcasing.
This ain't gonna be some bare bones flea market, or a stand on the
street. This will be, instead, Neiman-Marcus. I just haven't a clue as
to how to achieve that ambitious goal. 4. The temptation to buy this t-shirt
for the showcasing is overwhelming. (Yes, kids. The thought that's
running through your mind is correct. Sigh.) And to use it in this
endeavor is even more tempting. Because it would be funny, particularly
given the message printed across said t-shirt. Let's face it, most
women in the blogosphere really dig Jeff's
brain. Yet, to use that particular t-shirt goes a little bit too far
toward crossing that internet stalker line we all try so hard to avoid
when it comes to Jeff. Then there's the question of favoritism. Rich gave me a "Blogs Across America" t-shirt when he visited. I don't think he'd appreciate it if I chose Goldstein over him.

On the whole, this might be more of a pain than I'd anticipated.

UPDATE: 09/01/2004 The temptation passed. This is a good thing.

UPDATE 2: Well, I'll be damned. Phoenix finally commented!

Posted by: Kathy at 01:57 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Courtesy of The Llamabutchers, changes

Courtesy of The Llamabutchers, changes are underway in London's public transport department:

LONDON, England (Reuters) -- Lumbering through the narrow
streets of London, the capital's red double-decker buses are as much
part of the cityscape as Big Ben and Buckingham Palace.
But 50 years after their debut, the much-loved Routemaster buses, with
their conductors, hop-on, hop-off platforms and pull-cord bells, are
being removed from the streets, condemned as expensive antiques.
These are the classics of the double-decker genre -- not the first, nor
the latest, but by far the most popular among passengers.
Yet by the end of 2005, the buses, most of which have travelled
continents with the amount of miles they have racked up, will disappear
from the city's streets
{...}Created in 1947 to replace World War Two-era trolleybuses, the
snub-nosed, light-bodied Routemasters were hailed as revolutionary in
meeting the challenges of negotiating London's crowded, winding
streets.
Between 1956 and 1968, a total of 2,760 Routemasters were put into
service, with expectations they would last no more than 17 years.
Five decades later, about 300 are still on the road. Twice as many were
in service last year, before the city began its campaign of forced
retirement.
"They've been fabulous, but this is the 21st century, and the city
needs a 21st century transportation system," said Graham Goodwin, a
spokesman for Transport for London (TfL), the agency in charge of the
city's bus system.
Goodwin said the Routemaster was being scrapped because of its 10 to 15
percent higher operational costs and lack of accessibility to disabled
passengers.
As a replacement, the city has commissioned a greater number of bigger,
boxy double deckers with wheelchair access and, more notably, a fleet
of so-called "bendy buses" - single-deck articulated buses that can
carry up to 140 passengers.
Neither model has been without its well-publicised problems.
The bendy buses were temporarily banned earlier this year after four
caught fire in a four-month period.
And one newspaper described travel on the newer generation of double
deckers with their bright fluorescent lights and grey-flecked interiors
as having as much charm as sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool.
More irritating to harried commuters is the length of time it takes to
load passengers past the driver, who must check all fares, unlike
Routemasters where conductors speed the process along.

Man, it's been a disappointing Thursday. First Miss Apropos. Now the double-decker buses.

Sigh.

London traffic is going to be even more of a nightmare than it already is.

Ergh.

I'll stick with the tube, thank you ever so very much.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:56 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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A Rare 1961 IBM 72

A Rare 1961 IBM 72 Selectric. Great For Forging Documents!

This auction is for a vintage IBM Selectric 72 typewriter.
This is one of the early Selectrics produced in the early 1960s, a
Model 7X. Now you can create those forged documents right the very
first time. We will ship at no charge for Buy It Now buyers.
Yes, this is the one CBS should have used to forge there documents. So
to give your forged documents that original look use the original
equipment. All you need is some old typing paper to give your forged
documents that unique original professional look!

What's even better is that the auction is only at $199 as of right now. Muy Cheapo.
I mean, come on. If CBS can afford to pay that blowhard Rather's
salary, not to mention what they're going to have to outlay on the
slander suit Bush will stick on them, this is a bargain at twice the
price. It seems like a small price to pay to---ahem---get it right.

(h/t Enlightened Cynic}

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As I'm waiting for my

As I'm waiting for my sincerely ancient oven to get to temperature,
I'll give y'all the recipe for the Red Velvet Cake that I've made and
am waiting to bake. If you're from the northeast, I'm told the regional designation for this deeesert
is "Waldorf Cake." Same diff.
Ya ready? Okedokey, then. Here we go.
For the cake:
2 1/2 Cups sifted cake flour (and that's CAKE FLOUR, not ALL-PURPOSE)
2 teaspoons cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
2 large eggs
1 cup buttermilk
2 ounces red food coloring
1 teaspoon distilled white vinegar
1 teaspoon vanilla
Preheat the over to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour two (9-inch) cake
pans. In a medium bowl sift together flour, cocoa, baking soda, baking
powder, and salt; set aside. In a large bowl, cream together sugar and
butter. Beat in eggs one at a time. Alternately add flour mixture and
buttermilk. Beat in food coloring, vinegar, then add the vanilla.
Spread batter eveninly into the pans. Bake 20 to 30 minutes, or until a
wooden toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Turn out
onto a rack to cool.
TIPS FROM THE BABE O' BAKING: 1.Yes, you must sift the flour
and you MUST use CAKE flour. I'm repeating myself, but all-purpose just
doesn't work here. Trust me on this one. Chip out two and a quarter for
the box of Softasilk. You'll thank me. 2. Have I mentioned that you
need to sift the dry ingredients? It's an absolute must-do sort of
thing. It's a pain I know, but you'll thank me when your cake batter
doesn't turn out to be full of lumps. 3. You don't need 2 ounces of
food coloring. One small, separately-sold, bottle of food coloring will
turn your cake a nice reddish color.
4. I add vanilla like a drunken sailor drinks a bottle of
whisky---liberally and messily. I don't think you can have too much
vanilla---ever
5. If you're like me and you've been spoiled by cake mixes that produce
moist results, you'll want to add about 2 tablespoons of vegetable oil
to the batter when all is said and done. Disregard if you like dry
cake. Ok, now you're ready for the frosting, right?
You will need:
1 (8 oz.) package of cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, softened
2 cups confectioners (powdered) sugar
1 teaspoon of vanilla
In a large bowl cream the cream cheese and butter. Beat in
confectioner's sugar until fluffy, then add vanilla. Use frosting to
fill and ice cake. Pretty tasty, on the whole.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:52 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Apparently, the only good things

Apparently, the only good things to come out of last summer's European heat wave are some seriously brilliant Bordeauxs.
If collecting wine is your idea of a good time, you should know that
the futures for the 2003 Bordeauxs haven't gone through the roof yet,
despite the fact they've gotten great reviews. While I still don't
understand how wine futures work, it appears the market is a bit
glutted at present and there are some great buys to be had. Or so the
article says. Go forth and buy a case of Margaux and respond to my
kindness by sending me a bottle, eh? I'll have a red wine hangover
after only a glass (the tannins in red wine don't agree with me) but
I'll offer up my suffering for all the poor souls in purgatory. And
then, maybe, they'll do something nice for you in return. Like let put
in a good word for your heathen ass with the Big Guy. It could happen.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:52 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Excellent commentary from a Mr.

Excellent commentary from a Mr. X.
A resident of the Upper West Side, he's a little fed up with
intolerance of his political views from people who would claim to be
the most tolerant of all.

You know me. If you don't, you've seen me...eating dinner
in a midtown restaurant or walking up Broadway on a Saturday morning or
sitting at the playground in the park as my child climbs the monkey
bars. I take the subway to work every morning like thousands of other
New Yorkers. I shop at Fairway and Zabar's. Maybe you've even been
sweating on the next treadmill at the gym. I look like a hundred other
guys around my age. I dress like them, too. And if you saw me, you
would never guess my secret.
I am not gay. That is certainly no reason to hide. I am not a person of
color. That prejudice should have been erased from our national
consciousness decades ago. I don't carry any disease microbes that I am
aware of. I don't even smoke.
But the information that I will now transmit has caused people to shout
at me, brought dinner parties to an abrupt end on less then polite
terms. It has even ended long friendships.
Here it is. I will just say it. I am a Republican.
It's not just that I am a Republican - it's more that I am a Republican
who lives on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. It's the life-style and
location I have chosen for myself that doesn't seem to fit the
political viewpoints I believe.

Go read the whole thing. I find Mr. X to be extremely brave. He does
what I wouldn't do---he keeps talking to who ld different political
views from him. If the subject of politics is raised when I attend a
party here, I either keep quiet, leave, or find a way to change the
subject. I know from past experience that here in the Twin
Cities---especially since 2000---that I'm a. in the minority and that
b. a lot of people will react viscerally to what they perceive as my
"stupidity" for being a conservative. In other words, just like Mr. X,
I've been shouted down because someone got upset by something the
husband or I have said. It's just not worth it. Is it hard to hold my
tongue? You bet your sweet bippy it is. Particularly when you want to
do nothing else than shut the person down. What I find to be the most
insulting, however, is the shocked condescension I receive from people
when they find out that I'm a conservative for the first time. Their
eyes go wide. Their jaws drop and the inference I draw during and after
the dramatics is that they're so shocked and dismayed that someone they thought was so intelligent could possibly be so stupid
simultaneously. From some of the reactions I've received in the past,
you would have thought they would have been more tolerant if I'd
announced that, instead of being a Republican, I was a crack whore.
That would be a better alternative for them. But I'm polite. I don't
discuss politics and I keep my mouth shut when the topic is raised.
There's no chance for an honest discussion of the topics, so I
generally don't bother. Itstill grates on the nerves though. Case in
point: there is a man in Mr. H's work life that we run into on a
regular basis whenever we go for coffee in Mr. H's neighborhood. Mr. H.
has his own issues with this particular gentleman because he generally
makes Mr. H.'s life a living nightmare with his sloppy work habits.
But, he's further up the food chain than Mr. H. so I'm nice to him,
even though, in the past, he's made political comments along the lines
of Bush=Hitler, and "thank God for the New York Times.
They're the only ones who are doing any honest reporting," that have
made it very hard to hold my tongue. But I do it for Mr. H. I know he
does it for me as well, so turnabout is fair play, but man do I ever
have a hard time. But yet this guy thinks I'm a liberal because I never
say anything. It's like living as a spy at times. Some people don't
know where my true allegiance lies, nor do they bother to ask, because
they're so busy assuming that if I'm a reasonable individual, I'm a
democrat. I can only imagine what he would think if I "came out." I'd
probably get an earful. So, I feel for Mr. X. I've walked more than a
mile in his shoes. I can understand about wanting to defend your
position. Yet there is a point where you just have to be quiet. It's
not worth the angst in the meantime. It's really not. There are other
things to talk about other than politics.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:50 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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The Crack Young Staff at

The Crack Young Staff at The Hatemonger's Quarterly has recently shown their incredible good taste and has added The Cake Eater Chronicles to their blogroll.

Apparently, they recognize good stuff when they see it.

Which leads one to ask, "Why did they add you to their blogroll, Kathy? You don't have any good stuff."
True. Very True. But being one to take it where she can get it, I will
choose to look the other way regarding their egregious error, thank
them, and ask you to share the love and go and visit them. Really. Go. They're funny.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:42 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 108 words, total size 1 kb.