With outrage overload comes humor:

I forgot about a site that was rather funny. Since most of (I presume, by comments -- but any kind of people, if any reading this -- can prove me wrong!) the people who read this are female, I laughed for, like OMG, 20 mintues after I read this:

"OHMIGOD, like, Iron Hymen taught me to respect myself way too much to ever let some hairy creep hock man-lugies on my Godly cervix like it's some gross subway platform!"

If you ever vistited abstinance only sites, that one sentence pretty much sums it up.

I smirk at the abstinence only fools. Why? I didn't have sex until I was about 20, 21, and wasn't going to have sex until I met someone that I really cared about. If you think sex in any form is horribleicky and you can't refer to the relevant parts of your body as hymen, vulva, vagina, clitoris, uterus, fallopian tubes, or ovaries, you have a serious problem. If you have no idea what any of these structures of your body (if you are female, of course) are, then you need help (and maybe, if you're male, not a bad idea to know what they are). Seriously. There is a very, very small portion that really, really doesn't want to have sex. If you don't want to have sex at all, in any form, with anybody, and have absolutely no desire to, ask your doctor. Maybe it's medications...or it could be something else altogether. But if you have problems with the relevant terms for your body, you may need professional help. I've known a few people who in the past snickered at clinical terms for body parts, only to find out later that they suffered some kind of trauma...abuse or just shaming of those body parts.

I read The Vagina Monolouges. It wasn't earth-shattering to me. Apparently, it is to some women. But then again, I did grow up with a mom who made sure I knew the basics. However, I think it came from some "Not My Daughter" sense than anything else...like so many things, it was on the edge, never talked about, but hinted at...."a car, the neighbor....".

That is why I can enjoy the privelige of laughing at that site. Some women have to go through so much more that it's either not a joke or something so horrible and twisted that they can't get themselves out of. I want to take all of those women in such a protective hug and then swear and curse at those who dared do what they did, Bar Mouse style, that they think twice about who can and can't wear pants. Sometimes a verbal castration leaves marks that a physical one can't.

Can I be violent? Oh, yes. But since I was 10, I knew it wasn't healthy to take it out on people. And I won't. But that doesn't mean I won't get "stompin'" mad, or beat the hell out of the table to make my point. You may think agressiveness is reserved soley for men; sadly it's not. And I admire a guy on principle who will hit the table and not the nearest women (as long as he doesn't hit any woman, whatsoever). When drunk, that, for certain people (myself included) is restraint. The only time it gets bad is when I'm hurt.

I follow astrology in the sense that sometimes The Onion's astrologies are much more intuned to me than actual and serious astrologies. I find it more amusing than anything else. But oddly, I do identify with one thing: The Passion of Scorpio. Maybe it's true, maybe it's not. When I get angry, hoo-boy, watch out. But I'm a patient passive agressive; no, wait correct that -- I voice things that get no attention. A friend once told me that I had to be more secretive -- a guy who's been divorced 3, 4 times. I never once was secretive and I landed what I considered at that time to be good a guy. And he was. For awhile. But the thing is, I don't want to be that elusive secretive person. I am who I am, changes sometimes from one moment to the next.

Does ANYONE need secrecy above and beyond apparent mutiple personalities? I don't want to date a guy who can't live with all aspects of me. I'm not going to put on some fake show of "I'll be your bitch" -- I saw what that did for my cousin; I'm not that way and will never be, and if guys don't like the fact that I may bitch-slap them with anything, I don't care. Love me, like me, hate me....I don't care.

But I do care about those less fortunate than I. That includes a lot of people. There's someone in our great America going, "I was in New Orleans a month before this happened..."

I may not have been a resident of New York, but when you ask the person you were going to marry to take you to the one place in their hometown that they wanted to take the person that they were going to marry to, and it turned out to be the absolutely perfect place for them to take you to, and it happened to be in the month before the place ceased to exist, you too would feel really odd about it. And that was just NY. I'm sure that there were dozens who thought of that, about NOLA . I can identify a whole lot more with that person. But that doesn't mean that I can't imagine what it would be like to evacuate my segregated city facing diaster. I know what I would take and what I could live without. Renter's insurance is nice. Take only what I really need and value (some clothing, some pictures, and my 'puter, this decided after a fire my family went through). The rest is just stuff. Would I have packed as many people as I could have into my car? Hell yes. With preference for mom and babies. (Worked in a private day care, can amuse babies. And a hell of a lot better than working at my stressful job.)

What does this have to do about anything? I am tired of people waving flags and not really knowing what they're waving them for...or worse, they're waving them for a yankee guy who pretends he's a redneck from Texas. I'm tired of people who claim they know the bible, but apparently forgot all of those "Love thy neighbor", "pay Ceasar what is due Ceasar", "'tis harder for a rich man to pass through the eye of a needle" passages from that liberal pinko Jesus and his liberal pinko book, the Bible.

I'd like to see Bush dropped in NOLA, right before the storm hit, no cash, no VP, no Rove to get him out, knowing that he'd get socked with winds and vertical rain and storm surges and levees overtopped and breaking. Dead bodies floating past, slamming into the Gulf. Would he still cry for the oil rigs? Would there still be the photo ops?

But given his mom, I almost think that recent issue of The Onion sums it up.

And you know what else? All I want to do, is go down to the shelters, with toys and books, and amuse children all day. Know why? Mom needs it. Really, she most likely does.

Think about that. Daycares in the Red Cross shelters. Woudn't that be something?