This'n'That

Was that the longest weekend or what?

I feel like it's been ages since I've been at work--not that I'm complaining--and am relishing the idea of a shortened work week ahead. Hoo--followedquickyby--Ray!

I had a lovely talk with my sister this weekend. She underwent her first round of chemo last week, without that nausea, though with a bit of fatigue. But, I will say this, she has an undeniable spirit, though she knows what lies ahead, and an extreme amount of positive energy coming at her from all directions. So, whatever the future holds for her, at this minute, it all seems very bright and very positive and that’s all any of us can do, is to live now and not later and not before.

Carlos and I went to see the new Star Trek Into Darkness this weekend. What a great rollercoaster ride. Sure, there were a lot of special effects, but there was also story, and some real laughs. I grew up with these characters so the reboot I especially like because they aren’t drastically changing everything.

One thing I would change? Bring a muzzle next time to put on Carlos. Seriously, I love the previews almost as much as I love the movie, and while the previews were playing--after about thirty or forty ads asking folks to be quiet and silence their cell phones--Carlos muttered, well, nearly shouted, 'How many commercials before we see the movie?'

I almost sent him into a time-out.

Jody Arias.

End the trial already. Put her in prison for life without parole ad stop wasting taxpayer money with the empanelling of a new jury and more dollars and more time wasted.

She did it. She said she did it. She was found guilty. Lock her up, throw away the key, and then also cancel her Twitter account. I'd prefer never to see or hear, or hear of her, again.

You all know that I loves me some gossip, and I loves to make fun of those so-called celebrities. But, I have had some questions and requests about why I don't talk about Amanda Bynes anymore. Here's the deal:

I think she has mental issues, and that's not funny.

I think she has problems with drugs and that’s not funny.

So, though I have gossiped about her before, when it became clear, after her move to New York and subsequent antics, that she is not all right, I won't be gossiping about her.

But, you say, Bob, you have no problem going on and on, and some say on, about Lohan. Well, here's that deal:

Lindsay is a criminal.

She kidnapped a woman.

She stole a necklace.

She has taken clothes from fashion shoots and TV shows and continues to do so.

She has rehabbed seven times and fallen off the wagon six times.

Plus, unlike Bynes, Lindsay seems to be all there, and takes absolutely no responsibility for anything she does. There is always an excuse and always a side-step. So, I will continue featuring Lohan because Lohan will continue to be a screw-up.

The weekend was lovely in Smallville, with Monday being the hottest day, and it was just 85-degrees. So, of course, there was yard work, with leaves being raked, and raked, and raked again, onto the front lawn and then mulched up by the new riding mower. I filled six 75-gallon bags of mulched leaves, and will probably do another six, or more, this next weekend.

While I was on lawn and leaf patrol, Carlos was on gutter duty. We bought some of those sponge-thingies that you line the gutters with and they really keep the leaves and twigs and pine needles out of the gutters, while still allowing rain water to be captured.

Still, the gutter need to be brushed off every so often, but it's still a lot less dirty and time-consuming than cleaning those %@&$ing things out!

To reward ourselves, we grilled out both Sunday and Monday, with chicken, grilled veggies and black-bean-and-pasts salad both nights, and a gorgeous, g-o-r-g-e-o-u-s bottle of El Gran Pensado Albarinho from Spain. I will be keeping that label because I need to buy that wine by the truckload. It's a perfect crisp, but peachy wine, just fine for a summer day's sipping.

And here's a little something my Dad sent my way:

Psychology 101

If you start with a cage containing 5 monkeys and inside the cage, hang a banana on a string from the top and place a set of stairs under the banana, before long a monkey will go to the stairs and climb toward the banana.

As soon as he touches the stairs, you spray all the other monkeys with cold water.

After a while another monkey makes an attempt with same result ... all the other monkeys are sprayed with cold water. Pretty soon when another monkey tries to climb the stairs, the other monkeys will try to prevent it.

Now, put the cold water away. Remove one monkey from the cage and replace it with a new one.

The new monkey sees the banana and attempts to climb the stairs. To his shock, all of the other monkeys beat the crap out of him. After another attempt and attack, he knows that if he tries to climb the stairs he will be assaulted.

Next, remove another of the original five monkeys, replacing it with a new one.

The newcomer goes to the stairs and is attacked. The previous newcomer takes part in the punishment...... with enthusiasm, because he is now part of the "team".

Then, replace a third original monkey with a new one, followed by the fourth, then the fifth. Every time the newest monkey takes to the stairs, he is attacked.

Now, the monkeys that are beating him up have no idea why they were not permitted to climb the stairs. Neither do they know why they are participating in the beating of the newest monkey.

Finally, having replaced all of the original monkeys, none of the remaining monkeys will have ever been sprayed with cold water. Nevertheless, not one of the monkeys will try to climb the stairway for the banana.

Why, you ask? Because in their minds...that is the way it has always been! This, my friends, is how Congress operates... and this is why, from time to time:

ALL of the monkeys need to be REPLACED AT THE SAME TIME.

Now, how was your weekend?

Read More

Random Musings

On The Big C front:

First, the Showtime series ended this week with Cathy, played by the amazing Laura Linney, dying of melanoma.

I cried, because she died in her home, like my mother, after seeing her family and knowing they would be all right.

On the big C homefront:

My sister--that's who you're cheering for over there, AnneMarie--had her first three rounds of chemo this week and came through remarkably well. She's feeling good, sounding good, and doing good.

It's still a journey, but she's taken that first step and we'll just see where it takes her, and us.

Jody Arias.

Found guilty of shooting her ex-boyfriend in the head and then stabbing him 25 times, her first interview after the verdict she asked to be put to death because then she'd be 'free'.

In court this week, she begged for mercy and said she could do great things in prison, like:

• Start a recycling program
• Teach Spanish
• Start a Book Club
• Sell her designer T-shirts emblazoined with the words 'Survivor" on them.

Howsabout this: lock Jody Arias up and never let her be seen or heard from again. Even on the day she dies in prison, let there be no mention of her.

Ever again.

So, guns, gun control.

In a post from earlier this week [More Children Killing Children] I received this comment from ISBL reader, Helen Lashbrook, from ‘across the pond,’ as they say, in the UK. She gave me a little insight into what the UK does in terms of gun control:

“We have a gun in our house (sadly as far as I am concerned). By law it has to be kept in a gun cabinet, accessible ONLY by the gun owner and holder of a gun licence.My husband was inspected by the police before the licence was issued and is checked every few years to ensure that he is still a suitable person to hold the licence.Although we are far from perfect the United Kingdom has not fallen into chaos because we have strict gun control (contrary to what the NRA preaches); quite the opposite. We have very few deaths from gunshot wounds.We lose a lot fewer policemen too.”

How come we can’t be that enlightened here? No one is talking guns away, they are simply demanding responsibility.

I am a bit of a news junkie, but even I was overwhelmed with the coverage of the tornadoes this week in Oklahoma. I kept thinking about people losing their homes, having no places to stay, and then watching every single news channels sending dozens upon dozens of reporters and camera crews into the area, clogging the streets, taking up valuable hotel and motel rooms that might have better been used for those left homeless after the disaster.

I mean, seriously, is the idea of Matt Lauer talking about two-by-fours turning into spears in tornado winds really relevant. And did ABC really need to seen Sam Champion and David Muir and others down there?

Sometimes I want the news; the sensationalism, however, needs to be stopped.

Oh that wacky GOP. Try as they might—and they have been trying and trying [my patience] these past five years—to prove Barack Obama is everything from un-American to a Socialist to a Communist to, well, you get my meaning.

Now, the GOP tries to create scandals out of every issue that comes along and yet the president’s approval ratings are the same, or higher. But, you know whose ratings are going way down? The GOP.

In a newly released CNN poll, 59% of Americans view the GOP unfavorably, while that minority that still approves of them is at a low low 35%.

Maybe it’s the 37^th attempt to repeal Obamacare, or the GOP’s failure on jobs, the economy, the environment. Maybe the GOP needs to get voted out of office because they have yet to accomplish one thing. They couldn’t even keep Obama to a one-term presidency, and that was Goal One three years ago.

So, this week at the Billboard Music Awards Little Justine Bieber was given the Milestone Award.

I thought it was because he reached the Milestone of Puberty.

The Milestone of Being Five Feet Tall.

The Milestone of Having Discernible Talent.

Then he took to the stage and admonished his critics for not understanding his ‘art’ and his ‘craft’ and the idea that in five years we’ll be, “Justin who?”

What’s that you say Virginia?

It seems that a clear majority of Virginia voters now support legal same-sex marriage, a sharp reversal from 2006 when they voted to amend the state constitution to define marriage as one man and one woman. Even the people’s attitudes on guns and immigration are different than those of their elected officials, which should mean one thing: Vote ‘em out.

What’s that you say Michigan?

It seems Virginia isn’t the only state seeing a shift in views on marriage equality. A majority of Michiganians, er, Michiganders, er, Meshuganas, now support same-sex marriage and equal rights for LGBT Americans.  Support for same-sex marriage has increased to 56.8%, up over twelve-points from last year.

What’s that you say Tennessee?

It seems that nearly half of all Tennesseans support legal recognition of same-sex couples—either civil unions, at 17%, or full marriage equality at 32%--as shown in a poll conducted for Vanderbilt University.

Meanwhile, 62% of Tennesseans say health insurance and other employee benefits should be extended to the domestic partners or spouses of gays and lesbians.

Say.What?

The march goes on, people.

So, Carlos snores. And snores loud. And I have learned that when the snoring begins, if I slap him in the face the mattress a couple of times, he’ll stop snoring and turn over. Oh, he doesn’t wake up, mind you, but he stops the snores and turns over.

Which can mean only one thing: he is subconsciously trying to ruin my sleep.

Only, this past week, the bitch mattress slapping hasn’t been working, and now I need to punch him in the gut tap him gently and ask him to turn over.

It’s a hard knock life.

So, the Mama Grizzly Bore™--never one to shut her illiterate piehole—gave us all her opinion on climate change in a little blurb on her Facebook page:

 “Global Warming my gluteus maximus.”

Loosely translated as “My ass is as big as the Earth. 

Prince Carl of Sweden. isn't he just delicious? I've had his picture up here before, but I found a whole series over at Buzzfeed and they, well, tickled my nether regions.

Upside? He's royally hot.

Downside: he's third in line for the throne so he'll never be King, meaning I'll never be Queen. :::sigh:::

Read More

Lessons My Sister Taught Me

My sister was readmitted the hospital last week because she was having trouble breathing, possibly due to the pneumonia that landed here there in the first place. But, while in the hospital, she spoke to her oncologist and the news was this: with chemotherapy she'd have about twelve months to live, but without it she'd have maybe six months.

I hate those kinds of statements, because, while I know they aren't truly accurate and set in stone, I don't like hearing them.

My sister has opted for the chemo, and she has started the process this morning while still in the hospital. She has a positive outlook, and I have been working on my positivity. It helps that, while in college, I took a psychology course called 'Death & Dying.' I have always been fascinated by how people handle death, and deal with death; not the actual act of dying, but the knowledge that, perhaps, death is closer than expected.

My sister and I have like minds on death: there is no fear of it, though there is also no anticipation for it, but there is a sense that it's part of our journey and, naturally, a necessary step. I learned in that psych class that death and dying is actually harder on the living, on those left behind, than it is on the dying person, and I saw that first-hand when my mother was dying.

So, I will take on some of my sister's positive attitude and mix with it my feelings that she is just on another part of her journey.

Now, another lesson I learned from my sister:

We are only fifteen months apart, age-wise, and so we very close growing up. We went o grade school, junior high school, and high school together, and though we had some of that 'don't look at me' attitude while in high school, it was always nice to see my sister walking the halls.

This story is about a basketball game, and a pair of high school mascots. Our school were Cougars--not like the cougars of today, aging women who date children, but real cougars--and there were a pair of Cougars who stood on the sidelines during football and basketball season, riling up the crowds, playing with the cheerleaders and generally just having fun.,

One of the girls who wore a mascot costume couldn't make the game one night and asked my sister to take her place. The other girl also begged off, and, well, my sister asked me.

I said, No.

Then I thought about it; I thought it might be interesting to step out of my comfort zone, though in those days we had no idea about comfort zones and such. I just thought it might be fun to not be me for a while. So, I relented.

The costumes came, big, furry, heavy, hot, and off we went to the game. I kept my cougar head on all night so no one knew it was me, but it gave me the chance to act in public like I wanted to act, and not like I thought I should. I learned that it was okay to be different, to march to a different drummer, to act the fool, to have fun for fun’s sake.

To not care what people thought about you.

Again, it was a lesson that took a while to stick; there were other lessons that needed to be learned first, like accepting myself, coming out, and allowing others to accept me, too, but for those couple of hours on a Friday night in November, 19fumphity-fumphy, I was my one true self.

Under a fur covered head, yes, but my one true self. And I learned, from my sister, that it was okay to be yourself, because she knew who that fool in the cougar costume was, but she still loved him, no matter how he acted.

My sister, my hero.

Read More

Lessons My Sister Taught Me

Well, the update on my sister isn't the news we wanted to hear. The cancer is in her lungs, lymph nodes, and liver. She has an appointment with an oncologist to discuss available treatments and options and such, but I will say this about her .... She's utterly positive. When she called me with the news, she was practically giddy on the phone, "Hi sweetie, how are you?"

How am I? Seriously?

Then she gave me the news and, while she remained giddy and positive and fully understanding of what the diagnosis meant, I struggled to keep from crying. And then I began to remember things about her that I'd forgotten, or stored in some old memory box in my brain where it sat covered with dust until this morning. The box would be called 'Lessons My Sister Taught Me'. This is one of them .....

My sister joined the Air Force many moons ago and began moving everywhere. Spain and Germany; Delaware. I think New Mexico was in there, too. But soon enough she came back to California where the family lived and we got to see one another more often.

Still, she was a mountain girl, living in a small town in the foothills outside Sacramento, while I lived smack dab in the middle of our Capitol City. We were quite different; she enjoyed gardening, I enjoyed nice dinners with good wine; she was garage sale, I was Macy's. She was married, I was gay.

Different.

But this story isn't about that. This story is about the day she taught me how to say I love you. See, I was good at writing those words on a card, or signing them at the bottom of a letter, but I wasn't too keen on saying them out loud for whatever reason. But, one day, many years ago, she called just to chat--my sister loves to chat on the phone and I loathe it ... yet another difference between us--and we talked about all kinds of things, from what we were doing to what the world was doing. At the end of the chat, as we were saying our goodbyes, she said, All right then, I love you.

I said, Thanks.

Thanks; that was my response to my sister saying I love you. I mean, I guess I meant Thank you for loving me but that isn't really the correct response, is it?

So, as I tend to do, I sat there after that phone calll and wondered why it was so hard for me to say those words, and I realized that I come, came, from a family that didn't really ever 'say' the words. We showed our love; we knew we were loved; I guess we all felt we just didn't have to 'say' it. 

I also thought about that, somewhere, subconsciously, that I didn't deserve to be loved because I was the 'different' one; the gay son. I mean, my parents knew I was gay, and they were fine with that, they loved me, but I always wondered if they ever hoped that I wasn't; what parent wants a gay kid? No matter how much you love them, as a parent, you realize their lives would be easier if they weren't gay. So, I felt loved, but at the same time, unworthy of being loved because I wasn't the 'son' that had been expected.

My sister, thankfully, thought differently. Just saying I love you easily and simply, without force, made me realize that I was worth it.  And I thank her for that. See, after that conversation, and after my introspection, I listened to what she was saying: we all knew we were loved but she wanted us to hear it. And that made a huge difference.

Now, I didn’t change overnight and turn into one of those people that say I love you at the drop of a hat; it took time. And, I think the first time I said it back to her I probably choked on the words a little bit, as though they were somehow foreign to me. But it got easier and more natural.

And, I think it helped push away some of the Old Bob who might have been fearful of love and being loved. I think, having my sister teach me that lesson made it all the easier for me to tell Carlos I loved him, and to hear him say it back to me, and to keep telling him and telling him and telling him.

It wasn't that my sister loved me, I always knew that, and know that, it's that she made me realize I was worth it, and I could say it, and hear it and mean it and be it. That's just one of the lessons my sister taught me.

My sister, my hero.

There's only us, there's only this
Forget regret, or life is your's to miss
No other path, no other way
No day but today

There's only us, only tonight
We must let go to know what's right
No other road, No other way
No day but today

I can't control my destiny
I trust my soul, my only goal
Is just to be

There's only now, there's only here
Give in to love or live in fear
No other path, No other way
No day but today

There's only us, There's only this
Forget regret, or life is your's to miss
No other road, no other way
No day but today

No day but today
No day but today
No day but today
No day but today

Read More

Notes From Smallville ... From Fun to Frivolous to Factual

So, we purchased the riding mower, AKA tractor with a mower attachment according to Sears, and we were so ready to use it.

Then it rained. And rained. Then it cleared up for one morning and then rained again. Then it rained.

Two weeks or rain nearly every day and so the mower, er, tractor, er, mower, sat in the shed, unused. I ran into our neighbors downtown and, well, let me say they are rather odd; I'll leave it at that. But, they are both retired and have one of those perfectly manicured, perfectly trimmed, perfectly plotted yards. Ours is more of the natural woodsy yard and, to be honest, with some rather tall grass in the backyard. The Lady neighbor said to me, "Yard work time is here!"

And I thought, Is she trying to tell me to mow my yard? Bitch.

I said, however, "I know! We just bought a riding mower and have been waiting for the rains to stop and the yard to dry out so we can use it."

We chatted some more, though I cannot remember what was said because, as I told you a moment ago, they're odd. Then as they left, the Lady Neighbor turned to me and said, "Happy mowing."

Needless to say, Saturday morning we were up at the crack of dawn, firing up the tractor, er, mower, and riding it up and down the fence-line between our yards hoping it stirred them from their sleep. Sadly, our houses aren’t that close together so maybe we didn't annoy them as much as I'd hoped.

Sidenote: we played nicely, and took turns on the mower which, considering how juvenile Carlos and I are known to be, is a feat unto itself. Of course, it didn't hurt that the new mower has cut our backyard mowing time from over ninety-minutes to under forty minutes; plus, the whole sit down while you do it and drink from the cup of whatever in the cupholder aspect.

I have said before that Tuxedo is the Most Handsome Cat ever, and, well, to brag some more he is also incredibly smart. And understand English.

See, when it’s dinner time, no matter where he is in the house, I can shout, ‘Tucky, are you hungry?’ And he races into the kitchen for his meal.

Sure, you say, but he’s a cat and he’s hungry.

But then, explain this: when I am ready to go to bed, I say, ‘Tucky, are you ready for sleeps?’ and her runs down the hallway to the bedroom.

I know.

And then this: our cats do not go outside. We have no way to contain them in our yard because we have an on-the-short-side split rail fence that they can jump. Plus, there are kinds of other animals and diseases that they could catch being outside. So, inside they stay. But, Tuxedo, being the King Cat of the house, is allowed to go outside with supervision, meaning I carry him around the yard and he sniffs the trees and the flowers and bird watches.

So, Sunday afternoon, after working in the yard, I came inside, and yelled, ‘Tucky? Wanna go outside?’ and he came meowing down the hallway and ran right to the sliding doors of the sunroom, ready to tour the yard.

Smartest Cat ever; and, of course, the most handsome, too.

And now, a more serious topic:

My sister has cancer.

Try as I might, I keep hearing her voice in my head from the day I answered the phone and she said that to me. But, and it's a big but, she has a positively stubborn outlook on the whole shebang.

Which she will need, because after her last round of tests, she learned that she has Stage Four cancer and that it has metastasized to her lymph nodes.

She has an appointment with her oncologist tomorrow, and has the most amazing outlook, which I think is a great great thing.

While we were out of the house Saturday morning, she called and left a message, talking about how she was home from the hospital, and all four of her girls had come for a visit. And, again, she reminded me not to cry about this--which is hard--and ended by saying, "This old lady is not ready to stop dancing."

That's my sister's attitude and just one of the many reasons why I love her and why she's my new hero.

And, as I learned from my posts about my sister, a lot of readers are dealing with the same issues themselves, or with a family member.

My father, who went through cancer treatments with my mother found all kinds of links about lung cancer treatments and questions to ask your doctor, so I thought I’d share them, with anyone who needs them:

Questions to Ask My Doctor About Lung Cancer

Being told you have lung cancer can be scary and stressful. You probably have a lot of questions and concerns. Learning about the disease, how it’s treated, and how this information might apply to you is a lot to do on your own. You might need some help. Your American Cancer Society can give you general information about this disease and its treatment, but your doctor is the best source of information about your situation.

It’s important for you to be able to talk frankly and openly with your cancer care team. They want to answer all of your questions, no matter how minor they might seem to you. But it helps if you know what to ask. Here are some questions that you can use to help you better understand lung cancer and your options. Don’t be afraid to take notes and tell the doctors or nurses when you don’t understand what they’re saying.

The questions are grouped by where you are in the process of cancer treatment. Not all of these questions will apply to you, but they should help get you started.

For information on lung cancer please contact your American Cancer Society toll free at 1-800-227-2345 or online at www.cancer.org.

Questions to Ask My Doctor About Lung Cancer: When you’re told you have lung cancer

1. Exactly what type of lung cancer do I have?

2. How do I get a copy of my pathology report?

3. Where is the cancer located?

4. Has the cancer spread beyond where it started?

5. What’s the cancer’s stage? What does that mean?

6. How does this affect my treatment options and long-term outcome (prognosis)?

7. What are my chances of survival, based on my cancer as you see it?

8. How much experience do you have treating this type of cancer?

9. Will I need other tests before we can decide on a treatment?

10. What are my treatment choices?

11. What treatment do you recommend and why?

12. If I need to have surgery, how will I manage if I’m missing a lung, or part of one?

13. What’s the goal of my treatment?

14. Should I get a second opinion? How do I do that?

15. Should I think about taking part in a clinical trial?

Questions to Ask My Doctor About Lung Cancer: When deciding on a treatment plan

1. What are the chances my cancer will come back after this treatment?

2. What would we do if the treatment doesn’t work or if the cancer comes back?

3. Will I be able to have children after treatment?

4. How much will I have to pay for treatment? Will my insurance cover any of it?

5. How long will treatment last? What will it involve?

6. Where will treatment be done?

7. What risks and side effects should I expect?

8. What can I do to reduce the side effects of the treatment?

9. How will treatment affect my daily activities?

10. Will I be able to work during treatment?

11. Will I lose my hair? If so, what can I do about it?

12. Will the treatment hurt? Will I have any scars?

Questions to Ask My Doctor About Lung Cancer: Before treatment

1. What should I do to get ready for treatment?

2. Will I need blood transfusions?

3. Should I change what I eat or make other lifestyle changes?

4. Where can I get help to quit smoking?

Here are some websites my father also sent along that answer questions, offer treatments, etc. I can tell you I felt less fearful and unsure of what lies ahead for my sister after reading some of these sites.

Stages of Cancer, National Cancer Institute

Cancer Fighting Strategies

Tarceva tablets

Xalkori, non-small cell lung cancer treatment

Web site for clinical trials that are recruiting

Read More

Random Musings .... Delayed from Yesterday

First off, it might seem gauche to some, but my sister would love that I used a logo  from The Big C for this post.

Secondly, but more importantly, thanks for all the good wishes, thoughts and positive energy regarding my sister's cancer diagnosis.

She is in a much better place in her head today. She works at the hospital where she's being treated so she knows her doctor--and loves her doctor, and knows the team of nurses as well. All this helps keep a positive attitude.

Today she is having a biopsy to determine more about the mass. Through tears and sobs yesterday, I thought she said the cancer was in her leg, but it appears it's in her lymph nodes.

Later today we'll know more, but I just wanted to say thanks for the positive energy.

Thanks Delaware.

I admit I am a Cher queen, but even I was leery of the Lifetime Special, Dear Mom, Love Cher, because I thought it would be a cheesy televised Mother’s Day card to Georgia Holt, Cher’s 86-year-old, and still gorgeous mother.

Turns out I was wrong.

Georgia was, is, one of those people who’ve lead an amazing life; done all sorts of things, been married six times and yet her most successful relationship has been with a man she chose not to wed.

All kinds of great stories in the show, but my favorite was when Georgia Holt’s agent sent her on an audition for a film and told her that she needed to pad her bra because the producers were looking for a little va-va-voom.

So, she padded, and off she went. The audition went well, and she got the part. But a week went by and she hadn’t heard from the production, so she called her agent and asked why.

‘They went with another girl.’

‘But you said I got the part.’

‘Well, they liked this other girl better. Do you know her? Marilyn Monroe?’

It was an audition for The Asphalt Jungle, Marilyn’s first big role.

But, you gotta wonder what it might have done for Georgia Holt. Would we know her today as Cher’s mom, or would we know Cher as Georgia’s daughter?

I also get a giggle from the One Million Moms [OMM] mainly because, according to their Facebook page, their numbers are closer to 50,000. But I mostly giggle because they boycott everything, and everyone. For a while it was JC Penneys and Ellen DeGeneres, and now it Norelco and ‘manscaping’:

The new Norelco commercial goes beyond a close facial shave to body grooming well below the chest and back. This commercial went WAY TOO FAR! During the commercial, it shows a man trimming hair in different areas of his body. Toward the end, it shows him standing with his boxer shorts down with hair falling to the floor as he uses the hair trimmer. It is implied that he is shaving in his private area. The dialogue in the ad is equally offensive. "I'd wink at me; I'd hug me," he says. Then he looks in the mirror, admires himself, and says, "I'd F*** me." The F-word is bleeped out. But then they display their website, www.IdFAQme.com. This is clearly a play on the F-word. The excuse Philips Norelco gave by phone was equally dismissive, saying, "We are trying to reach a certain audience and would pass along these concerns." Their response isn't good enough. The ad shouldn't run at any time. It is not only inappropriate for children; it is offensive to adults also. The company's response to people's concerns is in poor taste.

The OMM really needs to get a sense of humor. And, well, about 950,000 more Moms.

So, the jury is Arizona found Jody Arias guilty of First Degree murder for killing her boyfriend by shooting him in the head and the stabbing him so many times she nearly cut off his head.

Good. Bye.

But, in the instant after the verdict was read, Jody Arias gave an interview to Fox News and said she hopes she gets the death penalty because death would be like freedom.

Now, as I posted HERE, I am staunchly anti-death penalty and she’s the perfect example. She gets what she calls her ‘freedom’ because she’ll be dead, so wouldn’t the greatest punishment of all be to send her away for life, without hope of parole EVER, and let her stew in a cell all day every day because she murdered someone?

I hope the jury gives her life, and I hope she has a long one, filled with regrets.

Out there in Minnesota the legislature appears poised to legalize same-sex marriage. The Democratic Speaker of the House said that a marriage equality bill, endorsed by the governor and likely to pass in the state Senate also now has enough backing in his chamber.

The House will vote on the measure today, and if it passes, the Democratic-led Senate could vote on it as soon as Saturday. The Senate’s 73-member Democratic majority will produce at least the 68 votes needed to pass the bill.

C’mon Minnesota, be # 12!

UPDATE: It passed! On to the Senate and then the Governor's desk!

The New Yorker salutes 'Mothers' Day' on its upcoming cover with cover art by illustrator Chris Ware, who says:

Now that the numbers are in on same-sex marriage, many Republicans are falling like dominos all over themselves to express their support for something that only a few months ago they steadfastly claimed to stand against. They’ll probably soon claim that this is how they felt all along, and they were simply too hamstrung by politics to be able to say what they really meant.

Well, okay. In the spirit of openheartedness and what life is really all about, I’ll go so far as to say that the fear of others may mask some deep-seated desire to understand, and maybe even to love. Because really, what is there to be afraid of?

Few people today don’t know—or have in their families—at least one loving couple who are raising children, same-sex or not. And it’s really just the loving part that matters. That same-sex marriage could go from its preliminary draft of “diagnosable” to the final edit of “so what?” must indicate some positive evolution on the part of the larger human consciousness.

My wife, being a biology teacher, puts it even more succinctly: “Why are all these people so worried about who everybody else is sleeping with, anyway?” (Score two for Moms.)

Happy Mother’s Day to all Moms, the two Mom families, the one Mom families, and the Mons in the Mom and Dad families.

Zachary Quinto at the Met Ball this week.

I have had a crush on him before I knew he was gay, though I do have a question, Zachary.

Does the carpet match the drapes?

I saw this on Joe.My.God. and he saw it on Boy Culture:

Manhunt reports that "Hey Guys" is the most popular profile header in all but one state. That one exception is Connecticut, where "Looking For A Top" is most frequently used.

Apparently all the bottoms live in Connecticut.

So, three cheers for the Cleveland hero, Charles Ramsey.

You know, the guy that helped rescue the three girls who’d been kidnapped and held in a house for the last ten years.

I love a good story.

What I don’t love, though, is how, now, the media is searching for every detail of Charles Ramsey’s life, especially the dirt, and are gleefully reporting it.

Isn’t it enough that he helped those girls escape? Why do we build someone up as a hero and then instantly begin to tear him down.

I, myself, am avoiding the negative press and focusing on the positive.

Thanks Mister Ramsey. You are a hero because you’re just a regular guy that did an exceptional thing.

Oh GOP voters in South Carolina.

Look what you’ve done to the rest of the country because you’re too locked in to voting Republican. Seriously, I don’t wanna hear one complaint from you when he screws up again and again and again and again and ….

Carolyn Moos, you know, the woman who was engaged to formerly closeted Jason Collins? The woman who then took her story to the media and talked about how she didn’t know and never suspected and maybe he lied to her and blahblahblah?

That girl?

Now she plans on writing a book about her relationship with Collins and is soliciting questions from the public so she can answer them in print and make a nice tidy profit off her ALLEGED embarrassment.

I have a question, Carolyn: why don’t you shut up? Why don’t you take the high road and not try to score a payday off your personal life?

Coming out is a struggle that all gay folks face, and some of us do it early on, and some of try and try and try to fit into what society tells us we should.

That’s what Jason did; he struggled. In fact, he says, of your relationship: “When I was younger I dated women. I even got engaged. I thought I had to live a certain way. I thought I needed to marry a woman and raise kids with her. I kept telling myself the sky was red, but I always knew it was blue.”

And you want to profit off of it.

Seriously, shut up.

Lots of Gays have had a crush on Zac Efron for years.

Not me.

I thought he looked a little too pretty [read: girly] when he was younger and then he went through a face where he looked a little steroid-y.

Then I saw that picture.

Um, I’m on board now.

I will now admit that I have been watching American Idol this season, mostly because of wack-a-doodle Nicki Minaj and all her craziness that I love. I still giggle at the time that she and Mariah were having a slight disagreement and Nicki said, to Mariah, “Simmer down, sir.”

But, more than Nicki, I watch because of Candice Glover, and not just because she’s from South Carolina. It’s because she’s a beautiful woman with an incredible voice and last night, her rendition of ‘Somewhere’ brought tears to my eyes.

If she doesn’t win this thing, well, then I might go Nicki on yo asses.

TWEET OF THE WEEK:

Read More