Aaron's Rotten Advice: February 27, 2010 Edition ("Yeah, It's Late--So Bite Me!")

DEAR AMY: In an effort to build team spirit, our office had a group outing. My friend, an administrative assistant in the firm, had a meltdown, cried and panicked about the group activity we were going to do.

Seeming to come to her aid, an elderly male principal in the firm calmed her down and offered to go for a walk in lieu of the outing. He then proceeded to persuade her to be his guest and visit the local women's art museum.

Rather than view the paintings, he spent the entire time ogling my friend's behind. Every time she looked at him, his eyes were on her backside. She told me it was creepy and made her feel very uncomfortable.

When they rejoined the group, this man's face was so full of lust that he was dripping in it. As her friend, I've recommended she report this sexual harassment to the human resource office. But she's afraid this man, given his position in the firm, will retaliate. He is still ogling her behind whenever he thinks no one is looking.

Should I report what I know? How can I help my friend?

— WORRIED IN D.C.

AARON’S ROTTEN ADVICE:

What kind of group outing in D.C. could inspire that kind of panic? Were you visiting Nancy Pelosi’s office to give her a group pedicure or something? In any case, if the firm’s principal is that elderly, he might be senile, and what you took for lust could well have been the effort of remembering where he left his nitroglycerine tablets that morning. He’ll eventually forget what he was looking at, anyway, although it may trigger an association that causes him to ask where he can get a ham sandwich for lunch.

In the meantime, tell your friend to put a sign on her backside that says “If you can read this, you’re standing too close.” If he actually puts his mitts on her rumble seat, she should clock him one square on the jaw. The others will think he just fell, and she should allow them to think so—if he’s seen as accident-prone, they’ll likely encourage an earlier retirement.


DEAR ABBY: I love my wife very much. I like giving her back rubs, massaging her feet, cuddling and kissing her. In return she does the same — to her dog, “Barkley.”

Barkley is the only one who benefits from her affections. The dog does nothing for me except allow me to pick up his droppings. What am I missing?

— DOGGONE PUZZLED IN CEDAR RAPIDS, IOWA

AARON’S ROTTEN ADVICE:

Sounds to me like you’re missing a very important pair of something. I won’t tell you what, because I think you can guess (unless you’re missing a brain, too).

First off, you stop picking up the dog’s shit. That’s right—leave the minefield where it is. Once your wife steps barefoot in some of that, I guarantee you’ll have her attention, and you won’t be massaging those taters again for a while.

And no more backrubs, kissing or cuddling either. It’s clear she doesn’t appreciate it, and you should find someone who does. Let the dog lick her face and walk on her back.

P.S. Did she name the dog? I assume so--the name "Barkley" could only come from the brain of a simpleton. Love has clearly made you blind--scrape the scales from your eyes now.


DEAR ELLIE: My brother-in-law and his wife both began dating others post-divorce; their young sons had a hard time with it. A year ago, we were expecting our first child and my brother in-law began seriously dating a woman no one in the family liked.

He talked about moving away, getting married and having more children. Meanwhile, his children were acting out, expressing anger, etc.

I felt compelled to call his girlfriend: I left her a voice-mail message indicating that her relationship with my brother in-law was hurting the rest of the family, that his children hadn’t yet adjusted to the divorce and it would be best if she left the situation. My husband and in-laws also felt this way but no one else would speak up.

It probably wasn't my place to speak directly to this woman, but I was angry because her actions were hurting people that I care about and taking away from the joy of preparing for my first child.

They’re no longer together, however my limited relationship with my brother-in-law is now non-existent and my husband and he have limited contact. I’m upset that we can't move forward and that my brother-in-law’s made no effort to see his one and only nephew.

I’ve attempted to mend bridges. For my husband’s sake, I’d like to make this situation better but I’m sure that my brother in-law doesn’t see how his actions affected every member of the family.

- DISTANCED

AARON’S ROTTEN ADVICE:

Then he’s in good company: apparently, you don’t see how your actions have affected your family. You’re quite right—it was not your place to speak to your brother-in-law’s girlfriend. He and his ex-wife had both chosen to date others after their divorce—that was their business, and it was brazen and pushy of you to meddle in his life without even talking to him.

Kids are never thrilled when their parents divorce, much less start dating again, but they do get used to it, and most even learn to like their new stepparents. It’s a shame that your BIL’s first girlfriend out of the gate should have been unlikable, but given time, she might have come around to your family and vice versa. Or else the relationship might have dissolved itself eventually. As it is, unfortunately, she’ll always be remembered now as The Girlfriend You Drove Away, which can only elevate her to martyrdom in your BIL’s eyes. Maybe if you’d approached it differently, you or your husband could have had a gentle word with his brother about making sure potential new partners were nice to his kids. Now that you’ve pissed him off, that bridge is burnt.

Just drop it now and leave ill enough alone. There’s nothing worse than somebody who adds insult to injury by “trying to mend fences” only “for someone else’s sake.” It sends the message that he’s expected to meet you halfway when you’re only going there with half an ass. He’s angry with you and rightly so. Suck it up. Sanctimonious hosebeast.



DEAR MARGO: My relationship with my husband has changed over something stupid that never should have happened. We’ve been married for six years. He’s been friends with "Josh" for many years longer than he has known me. Josh is married to "Marcie." The men’s relationship revolves around exercise and fitness and watching boxing and martial arts matches, mostly without wives (fine with me). Josh and Marcie are both in the fitness business, and once, at our house, she asked me whether I exercised. I said I go to aerobics and dance classes. She invited me to work out at her studio. I thought she was making a gesture of friendship.

When I arrived at the studio, she did an evaluation and then proceeded to rip me apart. I am 5-foot-7 and weigh 156 pounds. I could lose a few pounds, but I’m naturally very curvy. She told me I have almost no muscle, and that if I don’t do something about it, I will end up a frail old woman who can’t get out of a chair. She recommended a chiropractor for my neck (I didn’t know I had a neck problem) and a doctor for hormone therapy for my obvious estrogen imbalance. She assessed me at a BMI of 38, which is dangerously obese. She criticized my aerobics and dance classes as being harmful and out of touch with the latest in exercise science. When I got home, I was in tears. My husband asked what she said, and I told him. He said, "Are you sure you’re not just shooting the messenger?"

I now see that he thinks so highly of Josh and Marcie’s professional opinion that this has changed how he sees me! He isn’t as affectionate and is now picking at what I eat. ("Are you sure you need a second helping of that salad?") He’s made remarks that suggest he assumed we’d grow old gracefully together but now believes he’s going to have an invalid on his hands, which is absurd. Out of desperation, I went to a weight-loss physician, who assessed me at a BMI of 25 and said I need to lose 20 pounds. When I told my husband that, he lightened up a little, but his changed opinion of me didn’t budge.

— BEYOND DISGUSTED

AARON’S ROTTEN ADVICE:

Your husband isn’t too bright, is he? While you’re shooting messengers, save a slug or two for him. Gym bunnies are the absolute worst, because they make their whole existence about idealizing their own bodies, and by extension, others’ too. They can’t accept that people’s shapes change as they get older. It will happen to him, too, someday, and deep down I suspect he knows it and it just kills him. Hee hee hee.

Listen to what your doctor says, and just keep doing what works for you. “Marcie” is clearly trying to appeal to your sense of fear so you’ll rely on her for your salvation. It was an easy mistake for the uninitiated, but now you know how the system operates: the friendly offer she made was the 21st Century version of what we call the “pigeon drop.” It’s done in the New Millennium way—people too cheap to print flyers or buy ads in the paper start canvassing casual social settings, where unsuspecting people relax enough for these hucksters to go to work on them. From now on, you’ll know better.

Tell your husband that if he isn’t careful, the only “invalid” in the marriage will be him. And if he has a problem with the way you look, you can take your sexy, curvaceous self somewhere else, and he can make up a third in Josh and Marcie’s bed. Then they can all bruise each other with their hipbones and roll around in celery to their heart’s content.



DEAR MISS MANNERS: Please explain the correct way to seat couples during dinner parties. I was recently at a family event where couples were asked to sit at separate tables. This announcement drew complaints and derision from some who were offended by being told what to do (and forced to deal with their in-laws without backup).

I think it is a wonderful idea and have since read that during formal state dinners at the White House, this tradition is maintained. Could you lend some guidance on how to entertain in the future with these same couples in mind?

--IT COMES TO PASS THAT I HAVE A BOARD UP MY ASS

AARON’S ROTTEN ADVICE:

A seating arrangement? At a family gathering? Where in Boston do you live?

I would never think of telling people at a casual family gathering (because that’s the only kind my family have—we gather to enjoy ourselves) where to sit, so if you think it’s such a wonderful idea, I guess you’re on your own for this one. Here’s an idea, though: start by using chairs.

There. I helped. Ta-dah.

Aaron's Rotten Advice - February 19, 2010 Edition

DEAR AMY: I have been married for 30 years. I endured put-downs, slurs and nastiness from my husband's parents for the entirety, with no help from my husband.

A year ago, my mother-in-law passed away, and my father-in-law was placed in the dementia unit of a nursing home. My problem is that I am still furious at how they treated me, and terribly disappointed that the close relationship I always wanted with them never happened.

I tried and tried, but everything about me was dead wrong: my ethnicity (not Norwegian-American), my weight (not thin enough), my education (I have a doctorate, and my husband has a high school diploma, so they called me "Miss Know-It-All"), my child-bearing capacity ("only one? What's wrong with you?"), my hair color, my role as breadwinner ("never, never overshadow your husband"), my traveling for work and my willingness to express an opinion.

How can I let it all go, considering that my mother-in-law is dead and my father-in-law is completely impaired?

— WISHING

AARON’S ROTTEN ADVICE:

Let’s just say that karma has a way of catching up with everyone, and your in-laws are finally getting theirs. Why you wanted to have a close relationship with those two pencil-trolls is beyond me, but you need to accept that it’s not going to happen now and probably never would have. And you should also suggest to your husband that he visit a surgeon for a spine implant (I’d suggest something more—umm—“southerly,” but I suspect that wouldn’t be well-received, and it occurred to me you might still have some use for that dishrag).

Think of it this way: now is a perfect time for revenge against your father-in-law (or “helping karma along,” as I prefer to call it). He won't remember anything you do, and even if he does, who’s going to believe him?

Sorry, normally I have a lot of compassion for the elderly, but when they've spent their whole lives being nasty, the least you can do is put an ugly bonnet on them and take a picture.



DEAR ABBY: I am a 29-year-old registered nurse who has never been married. Recently I bought a home, and soon after, an old boyfriend, "Gary," started coming around. I was happy about it at first, but he's been staying here at my place for two months now and hasn't paid any rent.

Gary buys his own beer and has brought home a few grocery items from time to time, but nothing to speak of. He had the electricity turned off at his place so his expenses are minimal. He also brought along his cat, but never cleans out her litter box.

He does no housework and comes and goes as he pleases. I do not want him sharing my home without contributing anything. Is there a way to tell him without wrecking our relationship?

-- CANADIAN JOAN

AARON’S ROTTEN ADVICE:

Let’s recap here: an ex-boyfriend moves into your house, doesn’t pay any rent, doesn’t do any housework, and doesn’t clean up after his own cat, and you let him? For two months? And you want to preserve the relationship?

What hospital do you work at? Remind me never to go there.



DEAR MARGO: I am a newlywed, married four months, and quite happy. We are both in our early 20s and plan to start a family in a couple of years. I’ve never met my husband’s father because he abandoned their family long ago. After rekindling their relationship a few years ago (before we met), he overdrew my husband’s bank account and took off again. He was not at our wedding, and I doubt he even knows we’re married. Neither of us has any interest in including his father in our lives. (My parents live in the same town that we do, and we all get along fine.)

Recently, I asked my husband what he would tell our future children when they start asking about their grandfather. He simply shrugged and said, "Just that he’s dead." I said I didn’t think that was a good idea because if his father ever shows up, it would make us look like the bad guys. What would you do in this situation?

— PERPLEXED NEW WIFE

AARON’S ROTTEN ADVICE:

Me? I’d track the old son of a bitch down and kill him. At least then you won’t be a liar when you tell your kids he’s dead.



DEAR ELLIE: I haven’t felt I could leave what’s long been a difficult marriage due to children, financial dependence, a vindictive spouse and in-laws.

I’m staying till my children are bigger or I feel stronger. I’ve attended courses and am seeking work. Now my husband’s opening a business; if it fails, the bank will look to us both for repayment.

I’m expected to largely set up and run the business, but told there are regulations (from the professional body) prohibiting me from being a part owner; I can only be an employee.

It’s unfair that I should be equally responsible to the bank if the business fails, but cannot claim to be a part owner if it’s successful, and the marriage ends.

- NEED DIRECTION

AARON’S ROTTEN ADVICE:

Your direction is out.

First of all, I don’t know what “professional body” you’ve been consulting, and I’m no lawyer, but I did take paralegal classes once, and if you have no ownership rights, then you should also have no liability if the business fails (the bank will go after the “deep pockets,” and if those aren’t yours—which I suspect they’re not—you shouldn’t sweat it).

It’s possible that you feel you have to remain with your husband because he’s your only means of support. Well, if the business does fail, and you don’t have ownership rights, that becomes a moot point, doesn’t it? Also, you get no share if it’s a success (a remote possibility, since unpleasant people like your husband tend to have a hard time retaining customers). You literally have nothing to lose. The only way you will be in any way liable is if you’re married to the owner and have joint assets. Which is a pretty strong case for not staying with him.

So don’t let the doorknob hit ya where the Good Lord split ya. As far as the kids, it has to be less stressful to grow up with separated or divorced parents than it is with a father who subjugates and belittles their mother.

Save your sanity. Leave him now. Then let mice loose in his new business and call the health inspectors. Anonymously, of course.



DEAR MISS MANNERS: Do you think it’s appropriate for a guest at a funeral to comment negatively to the family afterward? I think it is insensitive.

AARON’S ROTTEN ADVICE:

It depends on what they’re commenting on, I suppose. If you mean they’re making negative comments about the service itself, then yes, it’s pretty insensitive.

Just tell them, “The guest of honor didn’t give a shit, so neither should you.”

Thick Planks Talking to Brick Walls

I've concluded that some people have just been put on the earth to piss me off, like karmic toadstools littering the landscape after a hard acid rain.

Which group is the most annoying is a subject of debate--it changes and shifts from day to day--but after this weekend, I've decided to award the crown and sash to the Oblivious Ambient Phone Yakkers, or OAPYs. For those of you who are unfamiliar, those are the diseased people who constantly have to be on their cell phones, compulsively chattering to their addlepated friends about their exes and sex lives, or arguing with family members like mullet-wearing white trash at a Pizza Hut, all the while ignorant of (or apathetic to) the immediate and unrelated physical environment they actually inhabit at that moment.

This weekend I was at Target, like I am most weekends, doing my weekly canned-good buying and scoping for discounts on yet another season of "SNL" on DVD (it was Season Three this week--bet you were dying to know that). In front of me (and many others as she weaved slowly and vertigo-like through the aisles in a haze of apathy) was a petite brunette 20-something with a stocking cap that put me in mind of a mid-90s Alanis Morrisette, circa her "Ironic" video. I should be grateful, I suppose, that this girl was at least muttering softly to her imaginary friend on the other end, and thereby sparing us the grisly details of her latest Brazilian wax, her plot to entrap some dopey recent law school graduate into marriage, or her plan to return to community college for her daycare teaching certificate.

Sadly, however, she had an unfortunate laugh. Unfortunate for me. High-pitched and squeaky, it sounded like Topo Gigio having an orgasm against an electric fence. It emerged whenever she said or heard something that amused her. And she was amused a lot.

Worse still was the fact that she was absolutely inescapable--every corner I turned to go into an aisle, she was there, blocking the way, oblivious to her surroundings and gweaking (that's "giggling" and "squeaking" combined--eat your heart out, Lewis Carroll) at her friend's story of a drunken apartment lockout, or the time she threw up an entire twelve-pack on some traffic cop or something.

Mutter, mutter. Gweak, gweak. It made me long for a block of poisoned cheese to slip into the basket over her arm.

Now lest you think I'm being misogynistic, not all OAPYs are women. Some are gay men who chatter about their Manhunt profiles, and about their current crop of prospects who can't measure up to their impossible expectations or be worthy to shake the peaches from their trees (these little turds clearly haven't gazed in the mirror lately). The universal element, however, is a fundamental disconnect from their physical surroundings. They seem to forget that they are, right this moment, in a public place, with other people who cannot avoid and are forced to hear the intimate details of their lives, and that their attention to these conversations has distracted them from simple motor activities--like walking and talking, for example. (I don't even want to see them TRY to chew.)

It's worse outdoors, where people have to shout in order to be heard over the environmental noises of traffic or commuter trains. It's more dangerous, too, as people pay less attention to approaching motorists and other street hazards. It's commonplace to have to slam on your brakes for an OAPY who's crossed the street without looking and who doesn't even look up from his conversation at the sound of your horn to see the middle finger you offer in greeting. Maybe this is Darwin's theory in action. Perhaps this is the "magic bullet" that will actually thin the herd.

I can't understand the need to be constantly talking to somebody else who's not even present. Does it feed into the self-obsession of the new world, where we must be talking about ourselves constantly, so as not to turn into pumpkins? Or is it, as one of my friends suggested, a reaction to the ever-increasing prices of cell phone calling plans? (I.e., since they're paying so much for all those minutes, they'd better use them!) If the latter is the case, I wish they'd just call Dial-a-Prayer. I'd be glad to give them a reason.

I wonder sometimes what these people did before we were constantly "connected" and accessible. What did they do when there were no cell phones, no emails? Then I come to the eerie realization that they probably don't remember a time when these things weren't available. I wonder if they've ever used, or even seen, a postage stamp in their lives.

And what about the nature of their conversations, the intimate delicate details of their lives (however wasted) served up like an unsavory cheese board for the rest of the world to pick through for the least green and smelly bits? Is it deliberate, a perversely gleeful bid for attention, like guests on "Maury Povich?" Or have they assumed, like the nose-picking stoplight motorists of yesteryear, that because they're not involving anyone else in their physical activity, it's neither heard nor seen by the hordes of unwilling others forced by proximity and errand into attendance?

Well, one thing's for sure: next time, I'm turning my iPod up higher so I can't hear.

Unwanted Advice - Feb. 12, 2010 ("Grey Friday"--that's the Friday before "Black Sunday"--Edition)

DEAR MARGO: I am in my 50s, have been divorced for 10 years and have a 17-year-old daughter. Her dad is remarried. I’ve been seeing someone for 13 months, and my daughter can’t stand him. He is a nice guy, and there are no behaviors to dislike. In fact, he’s rarely been around her. She has no reason; she says she just doesn’t like him and doesn’t want him around. How to handle this? I’ve told her it’s my choice and my house, and I can have company. (He has never stayed overnight with her around, only for a dinner here and there.) I mostly see him when she is at her dad’s house. The vehemence of her dislike really hurts. She’s rarely been around anyone I’ve dated, partly because I’ve hardly dated in the past 10 years. Must I choose one or the other?

— TORN

THE UNWANTED ADVISOR SAYS:

You know, precociousness is cute in a 6-year-old, but it’s less so in a bitchy teenager. Tell her to back the fuck off. I get that she’s probably insecure about losing the only parent that she has “to herself,” but she’ll forget all about that shit when she’s in college and starts knocking boots with some frat boy who wears a backwards baseball cap and has an IQ of 70. It’s not worth passing up your chance at happiness so she can preserve her illusion for one more year.

In answer to your question, no you do NOT have to choose between the two—as you said, it’s your house and your choice. Tell Little Imelda that if she doesn’t like it, she can go look for a cheap studio with a hot plate and buy ramen noodles in bulk at Costco.



DEAR AMY: My mother and "Barbie" started working in a nursing home more than 25 years ago and are good friends.

Mom retired in 2008, and Barbie still works there part time. Mom suffered a stroke last spring and wanted us to put her in the home where she worked.
At first, Barbie was so helpful. She truly was a godsend. But things have changed. Barbie visits my mom at the nursing home every single day, and I know mom likes to see her. My brother and I try to visit mom at least once a week, but our jobs and family commitments make it impossible for us to see her as often as we would like.

Barbie has taken over. I can't call my mom without Barbie picking up the phone, and she doesn't even work in my mom's wing.
She shows up at my mother's therapy sessions, has insulted her care manager, tried to insinuate herself into care meetings, has attempted to accompany mom to doctors' appointments and even tried to persuade one of mom's doctors to change her medication.

How do I get this to stop?

— STRESSED OUT

THE UNWANTED ADVISOR SAYS:

Well, the first thing you need to do is make sure that you or another family member are your mother’s medical power of attorney (POA). You can get the POA form the nursing home office—and if I were you, I’d call the office when “Barbie’s” not around, so she can’t horn in.

The next thing you do is have a nice li’l sit-down with Babs and tell her that you appreciate her friendship with your mother and that you know your mother does, too, but that it’s time for her to step off and let her designated caregivers do their job and stop taking control of her phone calls.

If all that fails, tell the nursing home staff that you want Babs barred from your mother’s room. You can do that, you know—don’t ask me how I know this. It’s a painful choice, but sometimes when people get a little nutty, you have to put down a little ass-kick on ‘em until they see reason.



DEAR ELLIE: We met in our 40s, with similar incomes, both owning our own house and car. Within six months we bought a house together with equity from mine.

His son and family were renting his basement. We agreed that my son and family would rent the upstairs, paying $200 more.

My son’s hard working, hoping to finish college and his wife’s in college. His son and daughter-in-law are high-school dropouts. He’s a pot smoking gamer.

Recently, his son’s wife admitted to regularly stealing food from my son's family. His son got stoned at Christmas, despite my request otherwise. His father defended him.

Recently, his father fell and his disability pay isn’t sustaining us. He’s decided he’ll work less as “we” make enough together and I wasn’t entitled to disagree.
I noted that his "extra" expenses, e.g. smoking, exceeded mine. Also, I won’t support his deadbeat son and daughter-in-law. He insists I support them no matter how they treat me.

I’ve suggested separate banks accounts, he’s refused. He wants out, fed up with my nagging. I don’t want it to end like this.

- TURNING POINT

THE UNWANTED ADVISOR SAYS:

Perfect—if he wants out, it saves you the trouble of throwing him out. Who cares how it ends, just so long as it ends? Sorry to say it, but the best (and really the only) option is for you to sell the house and split the proceeds. You take your half and buy a smaller place for you and your family—he can take his half and continue to accompany his son and daughter-in-law to the pot dealer and Old Country Buffet afterwards. Wanna bet on how long that money’ll last?

Oh, and get a divorce. Did I forget to mention that? Yeah—flush him.



DEAR ABBY: My wife is addicted to her cell phone. Whenever we're out together it's impossible to converse with her because she always has one or two text conversations going on.

The first thing I hear in the morning is her phone buzzing, notifying her of an incoming text. The last thing I hear at night is her sending a good-night message to one of her friends. If no texts are coming in, she plays games on her phone even if we're watching TV or if company is over.

I have told her it's making me crazy, but she won't stop. The constant clicking drives me up the wall. I feel as though I have lost my wife to her phone. Am I being overly sensitive? What do I do?

-- CLICK-CRAZY IN CALIFORNIA

THE UNWANTED ADVISOR SAYS:

No, you’re not being overly sensitive, but unfortunately, this “being connected 24 hours a day” thing is a symptom of our modern age, and there seems to be no turning back. I think couplehood is outdated nowadays when people don’t need other people to amuse themselves. They can hit a button now and get titillated a whole new way that doesn’t require AA batteries.

If you decide this is worth fighting for, throw the fucking phone out the window. If she puts up a fuss, throw her right after it.



DEAR MISS MANNERS: My beloved adult son is currently incarcerated. When a casual acquaintance asks me how my children are and what they’re up to these days, I have no problems being polite but vague.

But when dearer friends with whom I haven’t recently spoken ask about them, it becomes a bit more difficult. This is a rather painful subject, one I am not inclined to discuss with many. I also have no wish to violate my son’s privacy.
On the other hand, I don’t wish to give a friend the impression they were wrong to ask, as the problem is mine, not theirs.

Is there a polite way to let them know that my son is physically well and then change the subject without alarming my friends?

--BUSY BAKING A FILE INTO A CAKE

THE UNWANTED ADVISOR SAYS:

Technically speaking, the problem is your son’s, not yours. But I understand what you’re saying. For a nice, simple, non-alarming answer that effectively closes the subject, try this: “He’s in the pokey, but so far he hasn’t been poked yet.”

When Two Fools Collide

Just so you know, the Palin photo is courtesy of Fox News (boy you don't hear "courtesy" associated with THEM often, do ya?). Limbaugh (R) was photographed by Ethan Miller for Getty images (probably with a wide angle lens and a BIG-ass filter). Fashions were no doubt provided by Fart & Fleet (Palin) and J.Petereater (Limbaugh).

Anyway, it looks like Palin's hit a snaggie-poo in her quest to ban the word "retard" from the American lexicon. Turns out Rush Limbaugh likes the word, too (he's familiar enough with it, so that's only fitting).

This oughtta be good. Limbaugh may be dangerously unhinged, and I wouldn't allow him near heavy machinery (unless it were digging his grave), but once he throws himself into a fight, there's no stopping him (are you surprised?). He has no "edit" button and he's NEVER wrong. Palin is riding high on her Carnival Queen Sedan Chair on the heels of that toilet paper she just published. So you know SHE'S feeling cocky.

Wanna place bets on which one of 'em's gonna go down? Or maybe these two tick-turds will cancel each other out. Either way, this ought to be good, even if it burns out quickly (like Levi Johnston).

UPDATE (Feb. 8, 2010): Well, it appears that Pin-Up Sarah is party-loyal enough to defend Rush Dimbulb's "r-word" usage. Or else she's afraid that he'll come and sit on her or something. In any event, she contends that Rush's use of the word is acceptable, because it was used in a "humorous context" for political satire.

Which makes her a hypocrite on top of everything else. The word is pejorative, no matter who says it or how it's used. It's NEVER a compliment. So if it's not OK for one man to use it, then it's not OK for another man to use it, no matter how big he is.

Her convenient sense of morality is a bit disturbing--the main reason she objected to this word in the first place was because she has a son who is developmentally challenged. So what if a playground bully were to taunt her son someday using this same word? Would she check his parents' voter registration cards to see if she should just ignore the insult for political expedience?

Every time my life looks bleak I just thank God I didn't have parents like her.

This Just In! Sarah Palin Plays the "Outrage" Card!

Sarah Palin has a new best friend. Or at least, a juicy source of fodder for her Faux News TV show.

Apparently, last summer, Rahm Emanuel said in a closed-door meeting with Obama cabinet members that Democrats who didn't support health care reform were "f***ng retarded."

Now, granted, Emanuel doesn't choose his words wisely. Truthfully, he's brash, tactless, headstrong and politically incorrect. In fact, if he'd only take up hunting, he'd be the perfect Vice President. Sarah Palin is now calling for his dismissal and an apology from him, saying that his words are a slur against "all God's children with cognitive and developmental disabilities."

Kind Sarah Palin. Compassionate Sarah Palin. A saint who cares for all of God's children--as long as they are heterosexual, Republican and eat meat.

But she's full of pipe dreams (among other things) if she thinks Emanuel's about to apologize to her. He's already apologized to Tim Shriver, CEO of Special Olympics, who's accepted the apology. But it should be noted that Emanuel once mailed a dead fish to a political opponent. Lord knows what he'd send her (anyone seen "Pink Flamingos?"). It wouldn't likely be a dead fish, since she might mistake that for a long-lost twin.

How about this: Rahm Emanuel will quit his job and apologize the day that Sarah Palin drops out of politics and faux-news punditry and apologizes to the nation for reducing its politics to a bathing suit competition. She shouldn't have a problem with doing that--after all, removing these distractions will afford her all kinds of time to devote to her own developmentally-challenged son Trig during his first few crucial years of brain development.

And, of course, he's the most important thing in her world, isn't he?

Isn't he?