Today I thought that I would try and be an actual journalist and tell you something useful.  So like many actual “journalists” I will syndicate the news today with my own personal spin.

From three days ago most news publications are trying to give you and update on the Virginia Tech shooting.  The new revelation has to deal with the shooter’s past mental health history. In addition, while in a poetry class, the professor had the shooter removed from class.

Unfortunately, the natural course of events for liberal sissies is taking effect. They are trying to blame lack of gun control as well as awareness for the incedent. Well, I have news for them, gun control is without question two things: 1. Use both hands. 2. Hit what you are aiming for. So those were obviously NOT this kid’s problem. He hit what he was aiming at, probably used both hands and most definately had to be aware of what he was doing. Especially since he went back for seconds.

In other overwhelming sissydom, the Attorney General is in jeopardy of losing his job simply for making a decision and having piss poor evidence to back it up with. Welcome to the real world with the rest of us buddy. God forbid someone in the Government be actually accountable for a mistake they made instead of blaming it on a predessor and spending more money trying to fix the problem, while in reality screwing it up worse than it was originally.

Speaking of problems which are almost beyond repair, the Iraq situation is still ongoing at this point. Well who am I kidding? We as a country are trying to let a group of beauracrats to perform the job of the Commander and Chief. Not what the framers had in mind I think… Leaving the Commander and Chief to do his job is most ideal and will work flawlessly when he has a good head upon his shoulders and is not guilty of previously mentioned money issue in the last story. Oh wait, see bureaucracy again for lack of funding on that one.

And now to your hippy dippy weather man, for all of the hippy dippy weather, man…

Taken the chicken bowls for life and run!

Sanjaya from American Idol was offered free tasty chicken bowls for the rest of his natural born life if he would just get a bowl cut before he got the boot.

Poor Sanjaya, no more idol, no more free chicken offer… what’s he gonna do now?

Mother-in-Law. Those three words hyphenated together have somehow become the monster in the closet. Simple meaning from the dictionary: mother of one’s spouse.

If it were only that simple, huh?

Granted, I am a Mother-in-Law now that my beautiful, eldest daughter has taken that plunge into marital bliss. *eyes rolled waaay back into the head*

Presently, my view is that I am the most wonderful, giving, caring, patient, non-homicidal mother-in-law out there. I do it for my baby girl. Otherwise I’m sure I’d be a horn sprouting, pitchfork shaking monsters hiding and waiting for that boy to come around screw something up.
But, not me. I assure you.

My ex-husband’s mother was the devil reincarnated in female form. I kid you not. She was scary right down to the evil glint in her eye and forked tongue. She would aspire to purposely make me feel like I was treading on thin ice. That was generally verbal. But did she stop there? No, she is Korean. Everything she would cook was flavored up with just about enough fresh chopped red-pepper to kill a two ton rhino. “Takey Diva some that”.

Sure, thanks. Let me get right on eating that. I love my gastrointestinal tract to be lit up enough that when I fart, I shoot flames across the room.

Looking back, I should have taken it as a sign. He has never, nor will he ever be anything but a mama’s boy. She buys his pants, his shirts, he boxers and socks. She does his laundry. No wonder the man moved back in with her when before the ink on our divorce papers was even dry.

What kind of man was she raising? I’m not all to sure about it, but I know she was in definite competition with me for his affection.

Good for her though. I got out of having to wash his vine ripened socks.

The above thoughts bring me to the following point, which was inspired by my favorite rag-mag.

Could one actually live with one’s mother-in-law on a more or less permanent basis??

I for one, would never even consider living with my significant other’s mother. Even if she was an angel just like me, I couldn’t do it. Two alpha-females in one house is a design for disaster.

I’m just glad to know that Tom and Katie are going through it too. Tom’s mom and other family members all live in the house with the happy couple.

Is Katie going to be able hang on?? She has to deal with Mr. Cruise, and his mother.

My thought is: No way!! I give them another year at the most if THE MOTHER IN LAW doesn’t get the boot.

     I was slow.  I just found this… but apparently it’s made its way around the ‘net before…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acsz0o2jtzg

     The potential for something to go wrong here is astoundingly high, and yet… It kinda… *shakes head* Looks like… Fun… Why, the only thing missing here is the requisite case of Miller Lite…

     BUT …

     Can you say Darwin Award, boys and girls?

     I knew you could…

From Fox News:

A 35-year-old Orlando man can thank his 300-pound girth for helping save his life after he jumped off a cruise ship and drifted 20 miles for more than eight hours with a collapsed lung before rescuers found him in the Atlantic Ocean.

Regardless whether I knew my fat would float or not, I would not be jumping off of a perfectly fit rowing boat. That’s just lame. But, Michael Mankamyer did it. More than one witness has come around and said that “he jumped”.

Despite reports that he had “fallen” overboard, theoretically there is no way that could happen. It’s not like he was some tiny little thing that just slipped through the safety rail. No. This is a 300 pound fella.

Now, if you’ve seen the picture of this guy, the story might be explained. He just looks like that kind of goofy, attention-whore who will do anything to be in the class clown and/or the center of attention. You know, the college buddy who always got tanked before midnight and by half past, he was hanging naked from the roof of the frat house.
Jeez, buddy. Couldn’t ya have just talked all of your pals into a bad night of drinking and karaoke?

That’s it. I’ve made a snap decision to stop dieting and to stop going to the gym and follow tips from this page.
So, if on my honeymoon, I get tanked and take a wrong turn and fall off a big old rowing boat, I’ll be able to float around until they come back to find my fat behind.

He’s just lucky the Pirates weren’t out and about or he would have gotten so dunked for nothing more than being less than genius.