One thing about Pres. Bush (who sent out over 1 million Christmas cards) at least his interns only lick envelopes.--David Letterman

Gee whiz! Blogging sure has it's rewards. I worked all day and then returned home to find this waiting for me:

Um, okay. Since you feel the need to be free to do as you wish with your body, I'm left to assume that you're a chick. No biggie. If you wanna kill your unborn children, by all means, grab a coat hanger and have at it. Your kids do not concern me. Mine do.

My religion? Trust me, if I ever have to stand before that being some people call God, he's likely to be so completely annoyed with my deranged antics--he'll probably lose his cool and launch into an expletive-filled diatribe. Heaven forbid! Well, something thereabouts. Do I think Christians should be targeted for ACLU legal abuse simply because some others feel the need to Sovietize America? No. Do I think Christians should be able to dictate to you what you can, or cannot do to the unborn product of your latest bar-hopping adventure? No. How about if y'all do what you gotta do, and leave me the f>ck out of it. I loathe church, and I don't ever wanna tell either of my girls that it'd be cool with me if they wanted to kill one of my future grandkids.

I'm afraid? Talk about your typical loonjob feminist chick-speak. Question the manhood of the offending hunter/gatherer and he'll run right back to his beermeiser and burst into tears. Oh, no! You're on to me, allright. My first pimply-faced girlfriend once compared my horribly mutated penis to a paperclip and my life has lacked meaning and focus ever since. I don't know how many times I've thought about eating a bullet ever since that day. Woe is me. I'm woefully lacking in the manhood department! Boo hoo-funking-hoo! Get a grip, chickie. Chances are that you won't be this dimwitted forever. Believe it or not, most of us grow out of that phase.

And what's up with this fearing diversity claptrap?

In 5,000 words or less, clearly explain to me who really fully embraces your much sought-after diversity when not being forced to by law? You know, by threats from our fedrule govmint. Diversity is a bunch of malarkey imposed upon those who neither want it, nor need it.

Go back to your elementary school years? Was their a lot of diversity going on? Not in my day. The boys flipped baseball cards against the exterior perimeter wall of Courtright School, while the girls huddled in bunches a safe distance away and giggled about only God (Oops!) knows what. I could be mistaken, but I think they were pawing over David Cassidy's picture on the cover of Tiger Beat magazine during the very last of their pre-wet panty years. The boys argued about important stuff like Ruth vs. Aaron, while those girls skipped rope and played hopscotch.

Should we have been forced to embrace diversity during those formulative years? Should we have been forced against our wills to meld together with those we had little or nothing in common with?

Suzie, tell Markie why playing with pretty dolls is always preferably to shooting innocent pigeons with a BB gun.

Yeah! That would have worked!

The obvious thing is, if left completely to our own devices without the Fedrule Govmint's constant intervention, much of our society would resegregate faster than little boys could smash little girls in the face with a dodgeball.

Think about your ridiculous quest for diversity. The gays go to gay bars. And the straights go to sports bars. And as near as I can tell, no one involved has a serious problem with that arrangement. The gays don't wanna be bashed over the head, and for the most part, the straights would prefer not to have to bash them over the head. (Generally speaking, straights punch much harder than gays.) So they keep their distance from each other. It's a form of detente. Trust, but keep them at arm's length. Is that a problem? Or should the fedrule govmint intervene and see to it bar owners enforce a quota system at the front door?

And what about the white folk versus the black folk? We go about our days pretending that we love everyone we encounter only because we'll be prosecuted if we refuse. But when the black folk sit around the supper table, they get to bitching about those damn white folks. And when the white folks pay one of their servants to serve supper, they quite often get to bitching about those damn black folks. Who cares? The blacks celebrate Kwanza (spelling?) and the whites pray to their 60' Plasma God. And when the blacks and whites take a break from bitching about each other, they usually get to bitching about the Mexicans right quick. Who gives a flyin' funk? Whatever works, so long as no one is hurting anyone else, or calling for a bloody civil war. The 7-year-old black kid idolizes Donovan McNabb, while the 7-year-old white kid idolizes Eli Manning. That's not a problem. And it's not something that needs to be federally controlled. Hang out with whomever you want. Diversify this! Treat those you encounter with civility and respect and then get to doing whatever it is that makes you happy in your members-only camp.

Then we've got the men versus the women issue in this f>cked-up country of ours.

Tell me, what happens after we sing Happy Birthday to one of our kids, we cut and distribute the horrible cake, and before long, all of the birthday presents have been unwrapped in a big, big hurry? I'll take a stab at that one. The men gravitate towards a television, drink beer and argue about whatever major sporting event happens to be dominating the airwaves at that moment. And what do the wives do? Well, they saunter towards the opposite end of the structure, usually the kitchen, and trade baby pictures or something. I don't know. I don't know what they do, nor do I frickin' care. At that point, I'm just thankful that they aren't ganging up on me about where my socks end up after I'm done with them.

I love Wifey. And the last time I checked, she still loves me. But if I've got a house full of guys with a great football match-up on the schedule, I want her to go do what the chicks do when the guys should be arguing about instant replays and whatnot. Diversity? Yeah, well, save that sh*t for your First Friday night out and leave me alone.

And then we've got the workplace that has been made totally lame by the Fedrule Govmint. If we express a single thought that has been banned by the Fedrule thought police, we will be let go despite our obvious prowess in any given field. Basically, the Feds are all-but forcing our employers to enforce an unconstitutional censorship of sorts. Off-color jokes? Hmmm. It depends on who happens to hear it. And if who happens to hear it belongs to one of the protected victim classes (Anyone but white males), someone's gainful employment might be headed towards an unfortunate conclusion.

Diversity? Spare me, chickee! No, what you "diversity" folks really seek is the enforced uniformity of thought and behavior.

About a year ago, one of my coworkers who happens to be a young female stopped dead right in front of me, bent over and picked up something that had escaped her grip. She knew I was walking directly behind her and while still bent completely over with her best side showing she said: "Enjoying the view?"

I responded by telling her that her best side reminded me of the Rock 'n' Roll Museum.

"The Rock 'n' Roll Museum?", she asked sounding puzzled.

I went on to explain to her that as much as I'd love to visit that place, I doubted that I'd ever enjoy the pleasure of such a visit.

She cracked up in a big way. And so did I.

Diversity? As much as we're quickly being hearded into opposite hyper-sensitive and overly critical camps these days, I can appreciate a member of an opposite camp who still possesses a healthy sense of humor.

Politics is a whole other subject whereas diversity is concerned.

There's...leftist commie anti-American liberal tree-humping gun-hatin' Yugo owners who probably hate Bush, don't really know why and readily admit that a same-sex affair appeals to them when they get too tipsy.

(Sorry. My sister sent me an instant message telling me about how my 67-year-old step-father (father?) got to whining about how mean I was to him as an 11-year-old boy. Question: Who beat the hell out of who?)

Then there's those...right-wing necocon phoney Bible-thumpin' NRA patriots who likely dodged the draft, but freely admit that without God's watchful eye they'd never have gotten that used double-wide.

You wanna force these folks to hang out together at the local watering hole when only the one side owns firearms?

And then there's me.

I don't want to hang out with any (see above descriptions) of those folks, but I've proven I could do so without adding to the waiting line at the emergency room. (Well, most of the time.) And I'm fairly certain that plenty of folks of whatever political stripe wouldn't want to hang out with me. So? So what? As long as we don't turn this special place of ours into the new Rome anytime soon, it doesn't matter if we ever get to swapping spit on a regular basis. All that matters is that we put our differences aside when the overall good of the country becomes the paramount concern.

Diversity?

Cats and dogs. Crude oil and ocean water. Vinegar and oil. Some things just can't be forced together, nor should they be.

Catch my drift?

I gotta go study my holy book.

And God said unto the bloggers...

Dude, you are absolutely 100% correct. I could really give a flying farg what the voters way down yonder in Eagleville decide to do.

Thing is, I am not so completely blinded by partisanship where I'd automatically reject Patrick Murphy simply because he has the wrong letter (D) listed before his name. Nor would I pretend that a guy from Bucks County is 'the man' simply because he and I happen to share that R designation.

Some of Murphy's stated positions (Leave Iraq. Tax cuts for the rich.) could be ridiculed as being more of the same anti-Bush babble, but then again, with the Dems, you'll never get invited to the intern free-for-all unless you tow the party line no matter what. How many of those national Dems even dare to wander off the reservation other than Joe Lieberman and Zell Miller?

Then again, the Republicans are supposed to be the party of lower taxes, pro-growth policies and smaller government. Seen much of that going on lately other than with Dubya's tax cuts, and the capital gains cut? I have no idea, but answer me this? Has the "rising star" stuck to the republicans stated principles at all times? Has he voted for lower taxes, for pro-growth policies and smaller government?

Look, I'm kind of beat and I'm not looking to start a fight with the entire YCOP brotherhood. Wouldn't bother me, though. But, in my opinion, there are a helluva lot more RINOs running in your midst than you'd care to admit. In fact, I think too many in your right-leaning blog club are of the 'party first, country second' variety, just like those Dems seem to be these days. Whatever.

Murphy seems like an upstanding guy, and I said as much. Would I vote for him? Sure. Well, unless he was facing a far superior candidate. During these politically homogenous days, I could really care less what uniform a given candidate for office decides to wear. Remember, in my case, you're talking about a registered R that changed his party affiliation and chomped at the bit to support a registered D named Tom Leighton.

Then again, we are talking about Philthydumpia politics, here. Who knows? Despite being a Wilkes-Barre resident, I'm thinking I could probably still vote for Murphy or Fitzpatrick. Maybe even twice.

DIEBOLD, man!!!

Like I said, I could really give a flyin' farg. Being a local YCOP, why not fill us in on what's wrong with this county's next-to non-existant republican efforts? Sh*t! In these parts, being a republican candidate is akin to being a member of the NAMBLA party in a Muslim nation. Seriously. Do it up. In your YCOP opinion, why is this county a one-party county?

Why is that?

From the e-mail inbox

Three peas in a sinking pod.

Some lady from The Times Leader called me today about that letter I sent their way. I figured the Leader would publish a letter being openly critical of Uncle Paul's deflatable dam. The question now becomes, will the Voice. Oh, and will they slice and dice it? Is "fecal matter" a bit too much for a letter to the editor of the local paper? We shall see.

Next we've got the very latest on the new grandkid watch. We are now hospitalized and monitoring the overdue, but eagerly awaited new addition to the family. There is some concern about a fluttering heart rate and whatnot, so we're most likely looking at a C-section during the next 24 hours or so.

This child-bearing stuff is somewhat unnerving at times. I'm used to those glowing reports about smooth sailing ahead. Talk about feeling powerless. And in an instant, I'm less inclined to cross my fingers than I am hoping that someone from above is smiling down upon us. It's funny how that works. If I could actually find my Mom's somewhat tattered bible right about now, I just might get to thumpin' all over it.

I know I'm an abrasive idiot, but wish me luck anyway.

Nite