More Strum und Drang

Both literally with Rita, and in Washington.

I've finally gotten over my overweening urge to talk about Katrina all the time, thanks to Barry Bonds. When I was at the gym this morning, the TV was on some sports show, and Mr. Bonds rather pathetically used Katrina as a decoy to avoid talking about his steroid abuse. Which made me think I should give it a rest, even though I can't stop thinking about it.

I find this very comforting. Yay, we're just the same! (except for the throwing and the fighting and the wacking off). And this can never happen to us women. But apart from that - we're just the same - yay!

I did get distracted while over at the Guardian, and I found this, which is strangely fascinating. I have a hard time believing this is real. OK, it's Britney Spears, but is she really that gullible? You would have to be really young or really dumb (I mean, dumber than Britney!) to fall for that crap (though that is probably Neil Strauss's intended audience).

I've found the perfect PMS food. Glaaaarggh.

My son subscribes to Nickolodeon magazine, and as I was handing it to him today, it flipped open to a page with a small foil packet about one and a half inches square. That certainly caught my attention. But the foil packet was only filled with Splish Splat Goo, which had the unfortunate consistency of raw egg whites. This might have been OK if my mind wasn't already in a very bad place with the condom doppelganger. The disturbing texture of the goo was luckily mitigated by it's not-found-in-nature, not-even-up-one's-nose shade of green.