Yes, I do get mildly aroused at some tech gadgets. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Maybe it’s quilting that gives you a little tingle. Or advancements in spatulas. You too have something that gives your engine just a little rev that isn’t a member of the opposite sex. Don’t be ashamed.

I can freely admit that the Palm Pre gives me a part semi. So what? I’m not talking about pedophilia or dendrophilia. I’m not hoping the Japanese will actually invent a sexbot, because that would be weird. Unless it made classic mechanical sounds, then it would be neat.

*Clang, clang, whirrrrrr*

People remember how I was about the Wii once I heard about the wiimote. I believe I am the one who coined the phrase “wiirection,” because it’s that exciting.

So deal with it (Seth in particular) because we are all weird in our own ways and I will never be ashamed of my lust for technology. I will not deny looking at Wired the way school girls look at Tiger Beat.

Unicorns and rainbow jimmies for all!

What if zombies existed, but didn’t have a hankering for human brains?

Then they would just be boring, a little smelly and extremely slow people.

Much like the elderly.

I have never seen The Vagina Monologues, but I have images of it in my head. A dark, kind of smokey (but not from cigarettes), intimate room. A few dozen hipsters in the audience, ready to snap their approval. A very small, decorationless stage with a solo, sad stool under a spotlight.

And then the first women stoically steps into the spotlight to a smatter of applause which dies as quick as it began. She sits on the stool and slowly drinks in the audience for just a moment.

Then she bows her head to lose herself in her own thoughts. It is time to begin:

(to the tune of Oscar Meyer)

My vagina has a first name,
It’s M-U-F-F-Y
My Vagina has a second name,
It’s V-U-L-V-A
Oh I love to pet it everyday
And if you ask me why, I say
Cause Muffy Vulva has a way
With V-A-G-I-N-A Yay!

Because girls sing happy songs about their vaginas, right?

You know you have overused a phrase too much when someone will say something like, “boy, I sure can’t get enough of these balls,” and before you can open your mouth the other surrounding people have a dull chant of “that’s what she said.”

OK, maybe I do say it too much. But it is a phrase that is as flexible as “in bed.” Think about it: “It’s so hard.” “The back door is locked.” “He beats me all the time.”

Woah, that last one was just wrong.

Still, as much as I love to throw it in there (TWSS), I have obviously flogged this dead horse too much. And I learned this because I was one day bitching about “Git ‘er done.” I hate that phrase so much. And I was bitching up a storm about it when my friend responded the only way he could:

“That’s what she said.”

This gentleman (and I do mean gentleman seriously) with a thick southern accent just graced my presence at the hotel desk. For some reason Oakland came up in the supposed-to-be brief conversation. And somehow he pulled this out of his ass:

“Well, Oakland, all over there celebrating the killing of four caucasian officers.”

I was a little stunned and asked what he was talking about. He then went on to retell the whole Lovelle Mixon story, which we know well here. Basically, a convicted felon and all around bastard killed 4 cops in an attempt to evade a traffic stop. It was a horrible story that was covered here very well. So well, in fact, I missed my daily game shows that help me pass time at the RaSh because of the coverage of the memorial service that was held in a packed to the rafters freaking sports stadium.

All of Oakland celebrating the killer?

“Yeah, I suspect it didn’t make news here, but it was headlines over all the east coast newspapers.”

“I think you are wrong, sir.”

He picks up the San Francisco Chronicle which he had just purchased. “I’m sure this paper just didn’t cover it. But there was hundereds of people out celebrating him.”

“No, you are wrong sir,” I said curtly and then thankfully had another guest to turn my attention to. But after the dust had settled I took to the internet and found that I was wrong. Sort of.

It turns out that either about 40 or 60 people (depending which liberal drivel you believe) took to the streets to celebrate Lovelle Mixon. According to the prestigious Wikipedia, Oakland has a population of 420,183. Quick math = .000095 percent of Oakland celebrated the killer. Ah, hell, let’s round that up: .0001 percent.

All of Oakland celebrating the killer?

I find it amazing the d-bag didn’t find in his “east coast headlines” (translation The Limbaugh Letter) something to say about the BART cop shooting the defenseless kid. That’s OK, though, I am sure that he is so informed that he knows that James von Brunn, Holocaust Museum murderer is just a cog in the machine of the Left Wing.

Yes race relations are fucked. Especially in Oakland. But to pass of the entire city as people who celebrate the murder of four cops is much more than annoying. I don’t automatically assume that because you have a southern drawl that you are inbred.

But after I heard you talk, I know you are stupid.

When you get all your news from Rush or FOX or Dobbs or the Huffington Post or or Olbermann or Real Time with Bill Maher then you are a gullible freaking idiot. I don’t follow every word Michael Moore says and I don’t automatically dismiss everything reported by FOX News (excluding Bill O’Reilly and Sean Hannitty, of course). Because if you do that you are part of the problem, right wing or left. And you obviously can’t think for yourself.

But you fool yourself into believing you can.