And, After a Moment of Thought...

To build readership for your blog, be sure to disappear for a few months with no real explanation as to why. Makes you mysterious.

If there are questions as to my wherabouts, I'll answer, but I doubt anyone cares. Onward!

What a time to take a break, eh? I missed so much, so much... Did you know the pope died? Friggin' died! Jesus Christ. I'm gone for two measely months (was it that long?) and the inconsiderate bastard finally decides to kick. See if I choke down another one of those damned clam crackers, grape juice or no.

But, he will be missed. He did a lot of good things, and I hear he was a great guy. One can only hope the new guy fills John Paul's shoes.

Martha Stewart's a free woman now, and has promptly resumed her plans for world domination. Hops out the joint and goes skrate back to ballin'. That's gangsta'. Or so the stereotypes on television tell me, yo.

Martha's lean and mean, thanks to the "Eat a Brownie, Shank a Bitch" diet program she was on. Prison beefs burn a lot of calories.

That's right. Quality's still the same, folks. Time don't cure all ills.

Michael Jackson's trial has been the expected friggin' circus. There was even a lawyer cat fight in the parking lot! It just couldn't get any better. Two middle aged, rich fat guys in suits throwing hissies on national television. Funny, sad and vaguely erotic -- my favorite combination.

What else... Oh, the Runaway Bride. I don't really care enough to comment on the whole "She was scared but she broke the law" semi-debate that's going on, but I'll say this -- that picture is on my refrigerator.

People are learning why the phrases "Republican Representative" and "Ethics Committee" don't belong in the same article. But, honestly, I don't see why Democrats are so worried about Republicans changing the rules at their leisure in an obvious attempt to take and keep as much power as possible. The sooner they do, the sooner we can start with the inevitable street wars. I got my lootin' gear by the door, just in case

Oh, there was Terry Schiavo. I'll say this -- I think the right decision was made. And, also, if I ever get to the point where people are bragging that I can grin at inanimate objects, I want someone to shoot me in the face with a shotgun. Doesn't matter who, doesn't matter how. In the face.

Yup. That's all that's happened. Stay tuned for more in the coming months!