I found this web site via GitterCritter, and it’s going to provide me with hours of enjoyment between now and November.

Since none of you was able to come up with a good Barack Obama joke on your own, I thought I owed it to you all to spread the good news about the Barack Obama Quote Generator.

Hope you’re enjoying your weekend as much as I’m enjoying my waffles.

And if you visit the BOQG, please share the results here.

I rarely recommend internet reading material, and even more rarely–like never–do I recommend stuff that could be described as “heartwarming.”  Because I have an image to maintain, you know.  But this morning I read something that I found very touching, and I’m not sure I can even explain why I found it so touching that I had to share, but here it is.

Mike Gallagher is a conservative radio host.  I don’t listen to his show, except for snippets I hear on promotional spots, so I couldn’t tell you what it was like, but I read his tribute to his wife, Denise, who lost her fight with cancer a couple weeks ago.  I remember hearing that announced on another conservative talk show at the time and thinking, “Oh, that’s a shame,” because it’s always a shame when someone’s loved one dies.  But I didn’t give it any more thought than that.  Then I saw this column on Townhall.com, and I don’t know why I decided to read it.  I guess I thought it was kind of odd that he chose to say goodbye to the late Tony Snow and his own wife in the same column, so maybe I was curious.  It turned out that Tony Snow was a personal friend, so it made sense, but the column is really about his wife.

I wouldn’t call it a tear-jerker.  I didn’t cry.  It was just so real–just a simple, sweet column about his wife and his grief.  Nothing fancy.  I admit I’m inordinately fond of eulogies.  They coax us into putting aside our petty differences and help us realize that people are so much more complex than we give them credit for.  It speaks to someone’s basic decency and to our common humanity.  Each of us will die, and each of us will lose someone dear, and each of us needs to live better and appreciate more while we’re here.

So the truth comes out:  I’m just an old softy.  At least on Fridays.  Never fear, cynicism and snarkiness will return on Monday.  Meanwhile, have a good weekend.

As is my wont, I am poaching my sister’s “wacky search term” blog because I am too lazy to come up with my own themes.  Also, there are some real gems this week that I just have to share.

I would estimate that a simple majority of the search terms in my blog stats are harmless and not really of interest.  I get a lot of folks searching for stuff about Elvis (THE Elvis, not my Elvis).  Also, a lot of folks searching for “things Mormons won’t tell you.”  (Lift up your heart and rejoice, gentle surfer, for Mormon secrets are revealed here every day.)  Also, a lot of folks looking for information on giraffes and also for giraffe-print bathing suits.

What’s interesting to me is how often I get searches for extremely random things.  I get multiple hits a week for “holk,” for example.  Who knew so many people didn’t know how to spell “hulk”?  Or have people really been looking for my son’s story?  Also, you would be surprised how many people out there are looking for “how to pump your own stomach.”  Kids, do me a favor:  don’t try that at home.  Get professional help.  You’ll thank me later.

I get a lot of gay-themed searches, the most common of which is “yul brynner gay.”  Let me state for the record, kids:  YUL BRYNNER WAS NOT GAY!  Stop asking!  I also get a lot of pregnancy-themed searches, the most common of which is “70 percent effaced.”  I also get a lot of pervert searches–and I will spare you the worst of those, as they will not be funny but merely disturbing and icky and will make you want to take a shower, and you may not have easy access to a shower where you are right now.  Then there is the combination pregnancy-pervert search, the most common of which is “pregnant ladies naked” or “pregnant ladies having sex.”  But my personal favorite is the Mormon-pervert search.  Those searches always make the cut for this blog theme.  I have been waiting for the super-combo pregnant-Mormon-pervert search, but thusfar I have been disappointed.  Seems hard to believe, but true.

Of course, there are the inevitable toilet-training searches, the most common of which is “thomas the tank engine potty chair.”  I’m telling you, the cats who license Thomas the Tank Engine are missing out on a sizable niche market.  There also appears to be a sizable niche market for toilet-training perverts.  These aren’t the same perverts who search for “ladies peeing.”  These are the perverts searching for variants of “toilet training mistress.”  The first time I saw that in my stats, I thought it was funny.  It’s gotten progressively rather unfunny as time goes by and I get at least one or two hits a week from people who have Freudian/Mommy issues.  I’m not disturbed so much as I am sad.  And a little bit worried.  About myself.

So anyway, without further ado, here are this week’s wacky search terms:

mormons repressed homosexuals - this has been a popular one this week, probably because of the shirtless missionary calendar I posted about Monday.

breastfeeding “ahi tuna ” pump dump - I don’t know.  It just sounds funny.

pantyhose sweepstakes -

eating burger king while pregnant bad - Indeed.  I’ve been there.

is it okay for 9 month baby to watch bar - No.  You should wait until your baby is at least 12 months before you let her watch the bar.  Ideally, you should wait until she can pour the drinks without spilling.  But use your best judgment.

hell testimonies from mormons who went- Do you have a testimony of hell?  I do, but I’ve never been there.  Unless 10 years of toilet training counts.

trike rear window - Sounds like some luxury trike, eh?

nude “kingdom hall” - My first-ever Jehovah’s Witness-pervert search!  Yes!

donuts valium - What can I say, they’re two great tastes that taste great together.

what can mormons eat - Donuts yes, valium no.  Unless you have a prescription.  For both.

nose hook fetish - Is this supposed to be “hook nose fetish”?  Or is there some kind of weird nose paraphenalia out there that I don’t want to know about?

general grievous coloring pages - I get many, many searches for General Grievous, and a lot for General Grievous coloring pages.  What happens when Star Wars geeks breed.

“rich lady” “cabana boy” - Sorry, wrong number.

are actors in gay movies really gay? - I don’t know, but I can tell you that none of these actors is Yul Brynner.

nectarine porn - Wha?

parable yeast - Huh wha?

“alison arngrim” nude - Dude, this is Nellie Oleson.  Someone wants to see Nellie Oleson nude.  And the disturbing part is that this isn’t the first time!

antichrist costume - This is the one I find most intriguing.  Who wants an Antichrist costume, and what are they hoping to find?

what blue luggage debra messing carried - It would seem that this person has either a debra messing obsession or a luggage obsession, possibly both.  Regardless, the answer, sadly, cannot be obtained here.

fat person chocolate mousse cartoon - Okay, I don’t even need to see the cartoon.  Just seeing these words strung together is enough for me.

dummies for housework - Usually it’s the other way around, but I like this better.

sissified guys made girls - Again, the Mormon calendar thing.

giraffe religious group - Where do I sign up?

laidies having babies naked - I don’t know about the rest of you, but I had all my babies naked.  It’s not like I’ve got a Baby Gap in my womb, you know what I’m saying?

piggly wiggly portrait - I’m just getting this image of an oil-on-canvas pig picture hanging in someone’s drawing room.

yoda and cindy mccain picture - “Vote for me you must.  Help you it will.”

mormon modesty suit - I know they’re probably looking for swimsuits, but the picture I got was something like a fat suit.  Which is funnier.

show me ladies having babies - This should become a catch phrase.  “Show me the ladies havin’ babies!  (Naked!)”

white trash garbage can - A garbage can for white trash, or a garbage can designed by white trash?  Could people of other races also use it, provided they were tacky enough?

road rage alphabet of manliness - Remember that old Judy Tenuta commercial where she said “beefy burritos of manhood!”?  That’s how I hear this phrase in my mind.

getting killed in sleep - Augh!

50 cents to see the big girraffe - Which reminds me, I should charge more.

valium and weight loss - Here’s a tip:  lose the donuts.

yeast giggles - I don’t know what this is, but it makes me laugh.

cartoon wimen that have sexy and cute bo - I think this might be my first cartoon-pervert search.  But seriously, who searches for sexy cartoon women on the internet?

faye grant butt - Of all the pervert searches this week, I think I like this one the most.  Because who even remembers who Faye Grant is, much less harbors curiosity about her butt?

eeyore pooping - I didn’t want to know, but–too late.

leia orcks socks and hates han solo - I’m having trouble parsing this.   Is “orcks” supposed to be a verb here?  If so, how does one “orck” and more specifically, how does one orck a sock?  And why would one?

slipknot jesus mask - Maybe this is the antichrist costume guy.

normal mormon - And it led you here?  I’m flattered!

“how to get sympathy” - If you find out, let me know.

pregnant ladies in the 80’s - Why the ’80s?  For the cool maternity outfits?  Or the big hair?  A specialized pervert indeed.

beef gas pains pregnant women - Another specialized pervert, or just a girl with regrets?

do mormons wear swim suits? - Yes.  Except when we’re among our own kind, and then we swim bare nekkid.  Just kidding.  That never happens.  Except at BYU.

vice decadence debauchery indulgence- As Brigham Young said, “This is the place”!  I may make this my new tag line.

But the special prize winner is the following “Incoming Link of the Month”:

http://www.pogues.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=38&t=8811

This blog is in a foreign language, so I have no idea what it’s about, but I just get this sense that my son’s picture of Joseph Smith’s martyrdom is not really appropriate for it.

Happy Googling, friends!  Adieu.

According to the New York Times, comedians are having a hard time making fun of Barack Obama.  Reasons vary.  Some people think the late-night talk show and comedy writers are going easy on Obama because of ideology.  That may be true, but I tend to believe what most of the writers and producers in this article claim:  there’s no easy laugh here.  To wit:

He’s not old.

He’s not a womanizer.

He says “nuclear” correctly.

To the best of our knowledge, he knows how to spell “potato.”

What’s left?

I knew this was a weakness of Obama’s months ago.  I knew it when I saw his guest appearance on Saturday Night Live, where he attended Hillary’s Halloween party.  That sketch wasn’t very funny to begin with, but the fact they stuck Obama in it and gave him, like, one punchline–which fell flat–just serves as more evidence that Obama is too dignified to be president.  He’s so clean and articulate, how can you possibly mock him?  Not to mention that he is the candidate of hope and change.  Since when is hope funny?  Change can be funny, but not if it’s all based on hope.  As Mel Brooks said, “Tragedy is when I cut my finger.  Comedy is when you fall into a sewer and die.”

No one wants Barack Obama to fall into a sewer and die.

The question is, do we really want this for America?  Four years of no cheap shots at the President?  What kind of country will we turn into?  A bunch of sissies buying arugula at the Whole Foods?  You see, right there.  Obama eats arugula.  It sounds at first like it’s funny, or that it ought to be funny, but it’s just not very funny.  Arugula isn’t funny.  Rutabaga is funny, but thusfar we’ve heard no report of Obama having a fondness for rutabaga.  What are you going to do?

Well, I for one will not stand idly by while my country stops laughing at public figures, just because they’re skinny and they talk pretty.  It’s obvious that we need more Barack Obama jokes circling out there.  So please use the comment space to leave jokes about Barack Obama–jokes you heard, jokes you made up just now, jokes you heard from someone else but pretend are your own–and let’s get our laughter on while we still can.

I’ll start.  How many Barack Obamas does it take to screw in a light bulb?

None.  If you have enough hope, the light bulb will change itself.

Yeah, that sucked.  You all had better do better.  I warn you, though, it’s harder than it looks.

You might recall the blog I did a million years ago about the cat who made a calendar of young, attractive Mormon males, all returned missionaries for the church–only sans their white shirts, ties and black name tags, if you catch my drift, wink wink, nudge nudge.  Okay, I just grossed myself out.  So this dude, Chad Hardy (such a Mormon name), was excommunicated yesterday after a disciplinary meeting with his local church leaders.  I thought you would want to know.  Okay, I thought you would probably not care, but I needed something to blog about, and this story seemed to have potential.  Also, I’m too lazy to look up more relevant current events.

Some people–a lot of people, actually–probably think this punishment was a little bit of overkill.  I mean, it’s not like it was a naked calendar, just a shirtless one.  Also, they included pictures of the young men in their missionary attire, along with their personal testimonies of the Gospel.  It was, like, an alternative missionary effort, if you will.  Plus, part of the proceeds went to charity.  So what’s the big deal?

I don’t know what the big deal is.  I’d bet dollars to doughnuts, though, that it was more than just the calendar.  According to media accounts, some of the 12 calendar models were also called in for disciplinary meetings, but none was punished.  Prior to his church court, Hardy said, “You see more in a JCPenney catalog.  I just feel like my right to free speech is being violated.”

I always find it odd when Mormons get upset with the Church interfering with their right to free speech.  Not that I think people should just sit there and like it when the Church disciplines them for something as innocuous as a pretty boy calendar, but I just think it’s a strange way to characterize what is happening to them.  They can’t just say, “The church is way too uptight about x, and they shouldn’t be punishing me for this.”  No, it has to be something glamorous and earth-shattering, like their free speech is being violated–despite the fact that this isn’t a breach of the first amendment unless you’re just really confused about what the first amendment means.

I also notice that people will get all huffy about their rights being violated, but will say very little regarding their feelings about being formally separated from the body of Christ.  One would think that relevant, if they were upset about the possibility of excommunication.  But maybe that’s just me.

Anyway, after his church court, Hardy didn’t seem real torn up about the results.

“I have no ill feelings toward any of those people,” Hardy said of the church council. “They did what they believed was right and I really do feel it was the best decision for both of us.”

Which is convenient, since he doesn’t have a choice.  Just kidding.  I believe that Hardy is just fine with the decision, as he hasn’t been active in the church for several years, and hence he isn’t missing out on much by being excommunicated.  (Not in this life, anyway.)

I have about a dozen cynical takes on this, but none of them is very funny.  I was hoping for some funny to come out of this.

The 2009 calendar has sold about 10,000 copies.  On a totally unrelated note, does anyone happen to know how many gay men live in the Rocky Mountain region?  Just curious.

(And no, I’m not poaching TheTheologiansCafe’s blog.  #1, it’s impossible to poach Dan’s blog.  #2, Mormons have the inalienable right to blog about Mormon-related stories before all other bloggers, even Theologians.)

(#2 “And no”–I don’t think Chad Hardy is really going to hell.  I don’t know where he’s going.  I don’t even know where I’m going.)

1.  Cold laminating sheets:  not worth it.  Not to me, I mean.

2.  Every day I’m alive, Mother Earth dies a little bit.  She dies because I’m killing her.  Because that’s how I roll.

3.  I could eat kettle chips until my butt fell off.  In fact, I think I will.

4.  I am addicted to trivial pursuits.  Not Trivial Pursuit, the game.  Just regular old trivial pursuits.  Facebook, Spider Solitaire, crossword puzzles.  It’s not harmless.  It’s a real disease.  My prediction:  the next time I try to pursue something trivial, my husband will try to stop me, and he will reference this blog.  He will use my own blog against me, internet friends.  He won’t understand that I don’t wish to be helped.

5.  Every time I start to blog about something, I lose interest.  Sorry, kids.

My sister has Friday Funnies, I’m going to have a Friday poll.

This week’s Friday Poll:

Robin Williams = ?

a.  Funny

b.  Annoying as hell

c.  I liked him in Good Will Hunting…

Vote!

I had the radio on for a few minutes today, long enough to hear part of a talk show where the host was interviewing some cat from the Freedom From Religion Foundation.  Now, I didn’t listen for very long because I can think of few things more tedious than a conversation between a religious conservative who thinks religion is an important part of public life and an atheist who thinks religion is the most destructive force in public life.  I suppose someone has to have those conversations.  I’m just glad it isn’t me, and I’m glad my radio has an “off” button.

But it reminded me that I’ve been missing the atheists at the Moonstruck Chocolate Cafe as of late.  They used to meet the last Wednesday of every month, but they haven’t been there for a while.  I was curious, so I went looking for them on the internet, and I found out that they now rotate their meeting locations.  I know you’re all as relieved as I was to learn that the group hasn’t split up; they’re just broadening their horizons.  Maybe they’re collectively trying to lose weight, too, who knows?  Anyway, it’s too bad.  I’ll kind of miss them.  I mean, I could never get much writing done while they were in the cafe because, you know, of all the talking.  Groups of people tend to talk.  But at least their conversations were interesting–to me, anyway.  Because you don’t often see a bunch of atheists getting together to share their secular-ness.

So I guess the PC term for atheist is “Freethinker.”  That term sort of makes me roll my eyes, but as Freethinkers have been rolling their eyes at the likes of me for centuries, I’ll just suck it up and deal.  So these Freethinkers in our fair suburban city have started a community to support secularist people living and raising families in a society greatly influenced by religious beliefs.  I think this is very smart of them.  I for one don’t know how I would get by without my religious community.  All spiritual issues aside, religious communities are very handy things to have, for the purposes of making friends and finding babysitters and receiving practical support in times of need.  Also, they give you something to do.  But you don’t see a lot of atheist get-togethers, you know?  Not like the churches, which are always having barbecues and hosting AA meetings and whatnot.  Probably because a) there aren’t as many atheists as there are non-atheists, and therefore, b) atheists have a hard time finding each other, because c) if you find it difficult being an atheist in a non-atheist world, are you really going to bring up the subject in polite company?  I wouldn’t.

The atheists at my chocolate cafe were talking about starting a school, last I heard.  I think this is an excellent idea.  This country needs more Freethinkers united for a common good.  I hope to see many Freethinker schools and homeless shelters and 4-H clubs as time goes by.  Because once the Freethinkers have carved out their collective niche in society, they can stop boo-hooing about how alone they feel in their rationality.  Sorry, couldn’t resist.  Seriously, though, organized Freethinkers can only mean more competition in the marketplace of ideas.  And that’s good for everyone, wouldn’t you agree?

It was interesting to hear the atheists Freethinkers discuss their obstacles when it comes to forming these coalitions and completing ambitious programs.  As one of them said, churches wield great power over religious people because they can always threaten you with hell if you don’t do what they say.  (I’m paraphrasing.  I promise you the Freethinker said it nicer.)  Religious people have the threat of eternal punishment and the promise of eternal reward for doing x, y or z.  This Freethinker also said, “Even in groups of atheists, you have people waiting to be told what to do.  They’re not all rude and obnoxious like me.”  (Haha.  We all laughed at his self-deprecating remark.  Who says the godless have no sense of humor?  Not you.  Not anymore.)

They talked about the unique opportunity atheists have to promote greater awareness of a reason-based worldview and how this would not be accomplished by sitting around kvetching about religion, but by doing things that are affirmative and positive.  People are turned off when you ridicule others and oversimplify their beliefs.  Atheists need to attract people in more positive ways.  At this point I marveled at how much like a missionary training session this meeting was turning out to be.  Well, that’s the way you do it when you’re in a movement.  What do you expect?

Then somebody said, “Well, I’m ready for a eulogy.  Who wants to pray?”  And we all laughed again, because atheists praying is pretty ironic.

They didn’t pray.  Instead they made arrangements to meet again and wished each other Reasonspeed.  Or something like that.

So I’ll be missing them, my Freethinking, cocoa-swilling brethren (and sistren).  I hope that they find success in their endeavors, but I do wonder how they will overcome the inertia that plagues all too many human beings who otherwise have the best of intentions.  Someone at the meeting said that
only 1 percent interested in non-religious philosophy seek out others and get involved in organization, and that atheists need to figure out why this is. Religious organizations have the whole carrot-stick/heaven-hell routine, and people fall into line.  Seriously, if other religious people are like me and the religious people I know personally, the flesh is often weak–but where the flesh is weak, the spirit is willing to open up the can of whoop-a** known as Crushing Guilt and keep wailing until the flesh stops making Baby Jesus cry.  (Or, you know…Abraham, or somebody…depending on your faith tradition.)

Not that people without religion don’t have guilt, but where are their guilt enablers?  Well, perhaps Freethinkers are so awesome, they don’t need guilt enablers.  Maybe all they need is Barack Obama.  (But what if they’re Republicans?  Children could be left behind!)  As the self-deprecating Freethinker said, “All we have is reason.”  Is reason enough?

So I took Elvis to get his shots this afternoon, so he can go to kindergarten in the fall–or more precisely, stay in kindergarten come next February–and the visit did not bode well initially. We went into the the doctor’s office, where there was a very long line–unusual for a bright summer day. Apparently the office is transitioning to a new computer system, and they thank us for their patience. I remember when they got the new computer system. That was the day I first called to make this appointment and was told they couldn’t make any appointments that weren’t for that same day until the new computer system was finished installing, in about 24 hours. Which was fine, I was happy to call back 24 hours later. Except that I forgot to call back 24 hours later. I forgot to call back for about 504 hours. Anyway, suffice it to say that the new computer system has been around for several weeks, so it’s not a matter of them getting used to it or working out kinks. It’s a matter of every single patient having to go through an initial really-long-check-in-process. So where was I? Sorry, it was just the most amazingly long line, and it was made even longer, as I shall explain in the next paragraph…

…because SOMEBODY (i.e., Elvis) kept running out of the office and into the lobby and up the stairs and onto the elevator and coming back down again extremely pleased with himself and shouting, “There you are!” This might not have been quite so bad if it weren’t for the fact that this office building boasts the World’s Slowest Elevator. Seriously, it would take a full three minutes for it to travel from floor 2 to floor 1. I’m talking actual travel time, not waiting-for-people-to-get-on-and-off time. No one else was using the elevator, probably because it’s so stinking slow that even people in wheelchairs would rather take their chances with the stairs. What’s going on in that elevator? Is it being controlled by the pediatrician’s new computer system? Anyway, every time Elvis would take one of his magic elevator rides, at least two new parties of patients would come into the doctor’s office and get in line, so I was just not getting ahead, as you can imagine.

Fortunately, at one point a woman who had come in at the exact moment that Elvis was rushing out the door to go up the stairs again saw me come back into the office and let me get in line ahead of her, which was where I would have been if he hadn’t been such a stinking turkey in the first place. God bless that saintly woman. I wish I could have rewarded her with something better than a 50-pound monkey boy flailing around and screaming for me to let him go. “I STUCK! I STUCK!” Yeah, I know, buster. I stuck you there. At one point he even tried to get tricky with me, asking me for hugs, which are easier to wriggle out of than wrestling holds. Fat chance, pal. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me 47 times and it’s my foot on your back until the nice lady brings your file up on H.A.L. over here.

Naturally, when I had to loosen my grip in order to dig through my purse for his insurance card, he escaped yet again, and once again, I had to go after him and wait for the three-minute elevator. I’m sure the people behind me were madly in love with both of us by now. I’m expecting flowers and marriage proposals by the dozens. Anyway, I finally, finally got us checked in, and that’s when the miracles started happening.

First of all, the nurse took his weight.  She took his weight, meaning that she told him to step up on the scale, and he did.  He even stayed there long enough for her to move the little thingy back and forth so she could get the exact half-poundage.  This has never before happened.  Then she measured his height.  He’s 46 inches.  I always suspected, but I never really knew.  What good is this information?  Who cares?  I have it now, and I’ll find a way to use it.

Then we went into the exam room and waited for the doctor, who showed up within three minutes.  I know, I was pinching myself!  Elvis just lay there on the exam table and let her examine him.  She looked in his eyes and up his nose, felt his tummy, even checked that Very Personal Area–and he was fine.  Didn’t so much as flinch.  Okay, maybe he flinched a little, but it was very brief.  Overall, he was the picture of cooperation.

So the doctor pronounced him perfectly healthy and said she’d send the nurse in to do the shots.  I asked if they had any restraints, half-jokingly–well, mostly pretending to be half-joking, but in reality quite serious–and she said, no, they didn’t have any, but she’d have them bring “reinforcements.”  So two nurses came in, one to hold him still while the other administered the shots.  Elvis didn’t like being held still, but that other nurse was so swift, he was half-immunized before he even realized what was happening.  It was amazing.  He didn’t even cry until the last shot (there were four), but then he got his bandages and they released him, and he just walked off in a daze, like it had all been a crazy dream.  I tell you, I came this close to crying.  I couldn’t believe how easy it was.  I walked out to my car, half-expecting to find the Virgin Mary in the fingerprints on my windshield.

You know, this day started out pretty crappy, but now I’m beginning to think that somebody up there doesn’t hate my guts.  I don’t know how He or She did it, but…thank you.  I needed that.

So I was surfing random crap on the interwebs last night, and I found this article from the Daily Mail about women who won’t have babies because they’re not eco-friendly (HT: Mormon Mommy Wars).  By “they” I mean, the babies, of course–not the women, who are eco-friendly, and that’s why they’re not having babies.  You probably figured that much out by yourself, but it’s Monday, and I thought for those of you who might still be recuperating from the long weekend (in America, not Daily Mail Land), I might make it a tad clearer.  Anyway, it’s kind of an entertaining story–not the sort of thing to take seriously, as it’s the Daily Mail and all the other stories have something to do with gay sex or Tom Cruise’s unsightly back fat (yeah, Google, I’m asking for it now)–but the part I liked the best was when Toni explained how much nicer her and her husband’s life was without children (just in case we were Americans recuperating from the long weekend and couldn’t figure it out ourselves):

“Every year, we also take a nice holiday - we’ve just come back from South Africa.

“We feel we can have one long-haul flight a year, as we are vegan and childless, thereby greatly reducing our carbon footprint and combating over-population.”

I never feel guilty for having four children, but occasionally I feel guilty about not being vegan.  Now Toni has made me feel a little better, though.  You see, even my carbon footprint could be bigger, but I feel a sense of responsibility to the earth–unlike those jerks who take their four kids to South Africa once a year.  Some people are so selfish.

In other news, I also discovered that Nicole Kidman just gave birth.  I didn’t even know she was pregnant.  Or rather, I’d forgotten that she was pregnant.  Now that I hear tidings of the blessed event, I seem to recall that I read once about her pregnancy, in the supermarket checkout or thereabouts.  It was a girl, btw.  Don’t go reading the Daily Mail if you don’t need to.

Guess what I did this weekend.  No, don’t guess, I’ll tell you.

1.  I ate a foot-long hot dog.  Twice.  (Figure that out on your own, hungover Americans.)

2.  I painted my nails red, white and blue.

3.  I cleaned out half of my bedroom closet.  Now I can open the door all the way.  But don’t expect me to post pictures.  Because of #4.

4.  I uploaded 50,000 pictures to my Photobucket account, for the grandparents’ sakes.  I posted a humongous photo-and-video post at our family blog on the Blog Host of Suckitude (again, for the grandparents’ sakes), and it took for-freaking-ever.  While I was at Photobucket, though (all stinking day long), I finally got to see the Yoplait Seamstress commercial that I’ve heard so much about.  I hear about it because I get at least two Google hits a week from people looking for “yoplait lite seamstress.”  Anyway, I finally saw it because Photobucket played it for me every time I uploaded a new album.  So I got to see it, like, forty times.  It’s a reasonably cute commercial, but I’m not sure I understand the depth of its Google-worthiness.  I just thought I’d mention, as an aside to any random passers-by who are desperately searching for the Yoplait Lite Seamstress, you can see her all you like (and more) if you just open a Photobucket account and start uploading pictures like crazy.  At least, on Saturday you could.  Maybe by now they’ve moved on to something else.  ‘Twould be a shame, as that commercial is obviously very popular.  Yoplait should post it on YouTube.  But then I wouldn’t get as much traffic anymore.

Speaking of traffic, I am way more addicted to Facebook than anyone with as few friends as me has any business being.  I started a Scrabulous game with my sister, but then she went to Utah for a week, and now I have no one to play with.  Did I mention that I suck at Scrabble?  I do.  People are afraid to play Scrabble with me because they think, English major, writer, I’m going to kick their bootays–but no, I will not.  It is embarrassingly easy to beat me.  Probably why my sister hasn’t bothered logging in to Facebook to finish the job.  That and the fact she’s on vacation.  Also, I keep changing my X Files quote.  That’s a lot of fun.  My husband made me a Zombie, but my heart just hasn’t been in the brain-eating business, so that application’s pretty much being wasted.  I should get more friends.