a dick of dust and gas
And here I was, all set to regale you with tales of snake-handling goodness, when the newspaper comes along and distracts my attention with these two shiny baubles:

Is this a typo, or did I just learn a new space term? Does a "dick of dust and gas" go down easier with astroglide?
Ick. I just grossed myself out.
Anyhow, here's the other thing:

This is the kind of statement (circled - you can see it full-size if you click on it - and jeez, after that last gag everything I write sounds dirty; click it to make it grow, hee hee) that makes me crazy. I don't know why, but I'm still surprised when this prissy aunt of a presidency does something like this - so overt in it's relentless busybodying.
"You can always turn the television off and of course block the channels you don't want," says Kevin Martin, FCC Chairman, "but why should you have to?" Does the government think we're so helplessly inert that we can't exercise choices anymore? Or is it that they don't trust our judgement? Put another way: "You could exercise free will, but why should you? Uncle Suck will do it for you!" And naturally, it's all in the name of "children." I am so goddamned tired of children and Uncle Suck fucking up my fun.
Listen: I like obscenity! And profanity! And sex! That's almost the whole reason I watch TV! If the goddamned fucking breeders are too stupid to haul their lazy asses off the couch and turn the channel then they deserve their children turning into zitty, Skittles-crazed, goat-humping Cartmans. Fuck 'em, that's what I say.
Sheesh. Lorne is right. I do need to join Militia Etheridge.


