What the hell?

Have we grown so accustomed to public shooting episodes that we don't even discuss them?

A man killed his estranged wife in a drug testing lab in a suburb 20 minutes from where I live. It made national headlines but we barely discussed it at work, and no one from anywhere else in the country asked me about it.

This story in our local paper pointed out something that made me sick to my stomach:

Homicide was the second leading cause of death on the job for women in 2000, said the private nonprofit Family Violence Prevention Fund. The organization has found that nearly one in four women experience domestic violence in their lives and that at least 24 percent of all abused women say the abuse had forced them to be late for work or to miss it altogether.

What the fuck? Why are we still in the dark ages? Why are women so undervalued that we as a society allow this kind of violence to continue? My state is one of 13 that lets abused women quit their jobs and move and get unemployment in order to flee their abusers. Why only 13? What happens to everyone else while they worry about not just their safety, but starving if they try to get away?

I'd rather be writing about bunny dicks.

Is it me...or is this just wrong?!

"Oh my gosh...I'm a perverted bunny!"

I may no longer be a reporter (and thank God for that), but I'm still a news junkie. I read stories whenever I have breaks, before work, and after work.

The most disturbing headline I've ever seen appeared on Google news today:

Researchers Regrow Functional Penis in Rabbits

Huh?

I e-mailed it to my brother who wrote back, "That's just...yeow!"

Seriously.

Then I saw this beauty later on:

Engineered Rabbit Penises Raise Human Hopes

*Don't tell me that was an accident. These are stories, apparently, about a solution for erectile dysfunction.*

My question is - what scientist came up with this? And how many joints did s/he smoke first?

Can you imagine writing a grant proposal to get money to study...rabbit dicks?

Or putting it on a resume?

I thought not.

More from the grocery store

*Word of warning: I recommend watching this clip with the volume OFF.*
*Ninja edit: For those of you who can't play the video, here's the link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nojWJ6-XmeQ

To everyone at Trader Joe's this morning: I HATE YOU!

I even had a rant with a sympathetic checker.

Me: "Can I offer a piece of unsolicited customer feedback?"
He: "Sure."
Me: "Whoever invented those little kid-sized grocery carts should be drug out into the street and shot."
He: Big grin.
Me (continuing): "And you know why? They run screaming with the little carts down the aisles not paying attention to anything, parents nowhere to be found - and you have narrow aisles to begin with - and guess what happens when they injure themselves? Their parents will sue! Who thought this would be good idea?"
He: "I'm sure in their cubicles it looked perfect. But the best part is when parents fight over the carts."
Me: "Really?"
He: "Yes. They'll be like, 'Hey! Your children ALREADY HAVE TWO, and MINE DON'T HAVE ANY!"
Me (laughing): I'm sorry I'm laughing. I'm sure it isn't really funny when you work here.
He: "Well, we have to laugh. Otherwise..."

When we left, he actually thanked me.

I thought this clip, which Mr. Riot Kitty found, was only too appropriate.

Can we not and say we didn't?

My grandmother, sadly, is sliding rapidly into dementia. My uncle in Seattle got a wild hair for an impromptu family reunion for a week from Saturday.

My dad is coming up from California with my little brother and sister, and my other uncle is coming from Montana.

Silly me. I said, "We'll go!"

Mr. Riot Kitty will have to meet, in the flesh, the people he has only heard tall tales about, and get to see firsthand that it's actually all true.

Thinking about this makes me want to hide under the bed - and this is the side of the family I actually like.

There will be my grandmother, who has no sense of humor at all. She was born without one. She tends toward melancholy and melodrama, but hey! Maybe she won't remember to be that way?

There will be my grandfather, who is a grandstanding type of person who always has to be the center of attention. This is typically not very difficult, especially as he has, of late, taken to making dirty old man comments in public. By the way, he's also a retired pastor and a prude.

There will be my Seattle aunt and uncle, who spend most of their time bickering. I think the root of this problem is that my aunt stopped sleeping with my uncle after their second child was born.

There will be my cousin K, who is a therapist on her second marriage (she's in her late 20s) to her second teenage husband. I'm not making this up. Husband # 1 had to have his parents sign and give him permission! They say therapists have issues...believe it.

There will be my aunt who lost her husband last year and is now so medicated that after years of ranting and raving, she is now mellow and warm fuzzy-like to the point that it is scary.

There may or may not be my cousin E. The last time I saw her, she took pride in telling me that I was closer to 30 than 20 (I was 25.) I was very tempted to reply that while that was true, my legs were not the size of tree trunks. But I didn't.

There will hopefully NOT be my cousin R, who is married to someone 20+ years older than her. That wouldn't be creepy if 1) they didn't make out in public and 2) he didn't have a daughter that was six months younger than her and 3) he didn't stare at me quite so much on the occasions that we happen to be in the same room together.

So my goal is to keep Mr. Riot Kitty from running away, screaming, and demanding a divorce.

Wish me luck.

Basil Fawlty!

Thanks to my dad (and my brother, who helped scout out great seats), Mr. Riot Kitty and I went to see one of our comedic heroes, John Cleese, last night.

My first question, when my dad asked if we wanted tickets for a Christmas present, was, "He's coming to Portland?" I don't exactly live in the boonies but we don't get as many big name acts as, say, San Francisco.

The show was sort of an overview of behind-the-scenes stuff from his career - which he maintains essentially happened by accident - and a bit of bitching about his third ex-wife, to whom he is ordered to pay $20 million.

I'm not kidding.

I've never understood the concept of alimony for people who are physically and mentally able to support themselves financially. It just makes me fucking sick.

$20 million for sleeping with someone (or maybe not) for 16 years!

So he mapped it out with a slide show - she got about $3,650 a day. $1,200 just for waking up in the morning. $150 to go get an aspirin.

For $20 million, he estimated that he could have married and divorced Brigitte Nielsen 3.3 times, Pam Anderson 8.5 times, and "anyone from Gresham" - a suburb of Portland - 2,000 times!

I hope he laughs all the way to the bank on this tour. I couldn't help thinking, what a bitch!

Gene Simmons, I'll never fuck you. Ever.

Even if I wasn't single - and even when I was single - I can tell you with supreme confidence that no member of the band KISS could have or could lure me into bed.

Somehow, according to the band's frontman Gene Simmons, more than 4,600 women have - and continue to (despite the fact that he's married) - slept with him.

My friend Bernadette shared this NPR interview with me, where Simmons - who, by the way, is a first-rank capitalist, with a marketing company, and a reality show where he and his partner televised their facelifts - says that every (heterosexual) guy wants to be like him, fucking his way across the universe. The only thing that stops them, he says, is that they don't have as much money as he does.

"Money is the single most important thing on the planet," he says.

My first question to my friend was, "What about the makeup?!" Terry Gross asked that question in the interview, and he replied, "I wash it off."

I'd say very few of the men I have come in contact with want to be a swashbuckling asshole. Most of them want or have wanted their fair share of conquests, but I don't think they're all pigs at heart.

"If you want to welcome me with open arms," he tells her, "you have to welcome me with open legs."

What do you think?

PS Gene Simmons - I don't care how rich you are, I'll never fuck you! With or without the makeup.

TGIAFF!

Thank God it's almost Fucking Friday!! This has been a never-ending week since last Friday. Overnight in the middle of nowhere for work that day. Conference at work all day Saturday. As of tonight, my boss and I have worked 24 hours out of the past 48.

I love my job - but I need a whole weekend. Tomorrow is CHOCOLATE with Darth and Pheromone Girl and I can't wait!

But first, I need to get through another meeting...I am feeding people Subway sandwiches in the hopes that their mouths will be too full for them to cause any trouble.

And selfishly...I ordered all of the sandwiches sans the onions. People in our organization tend to whine and the last thing I need is whining + stinky breath.

Is that passive aggressive or am I just a control freak?

Happy almost Friday!