A potentially-brutal week awaits me, the type of week that requires a heavy bout of Monday morning drinking. A few quick things before my pain starts.
Get me on that jury, and that girl will walk away wealthy:
A suit was filed on behalf of a 12-year-old girl who claims she suffered psychological distress when a teacher showed in class the gay-themed movie "Brokeback Mountain."
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Follow-up on this post:
CBS confirmed "The Dog House with JV and Elvis" show was canned permanently after an on-air prank call three weeks ago ordered "slimp flied lice" from a Chinese restaurant.
So the Asian protests did the trick. In my poll, though, the Asians lost big time (96.6% to 3.4%) to Sharpton and Co.
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Escaped from the kitchen: A cat trapped in a cargo crate without food or water has survived a 35-day sea voyage from China to the US.
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I'm no fan of the anti-smoking Nazis, but this might have merit:
Senior clerics are fuming after they were told to post "no smoking" signs in churches and cathedrals by July 1.
The Dean of Southwark, the Very Rev Colin Slee, said: "It is such nonsense. One is bound to ask, when did you last hear of somebody smoking in church?"
Given the lack of reverence found in today's sanctuaries, you just never know. During particularly-irreverent Masses, I joke to my wife that I wish I had brought a six pack with me.
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Something for Monday morning:
"Where our work is, there let our joy be."
Tertullian
In light of my dread at what my week potentially brings, I find this quote amusingly ironic.
