This seems to be the position of a fair subset of columnists -- everybody would OBVIOUSLY be gay if they had a choice in the matter, so it's your job to impose heterosexuality on a reluctant substrate.

Cause girls? Both icky and confusing.

But we're soft and smell nice, so it all works out.

I tell you what, you could do my math.

You wouldn't want that. I'd cause your GPA to stumble for sure.

But we're soft and smell nice, so it all works out.

Unless we play sports and get all lean and muscular and sweaty.

I clicked on the links, read a sentence of each, and then closed them quickly. I never got to the pictures of women athletes.

Calli, if by chance you happen to see this, do you remember the blanket you made for me in the exchange? For the rest following along, it's dark blue with a pattern of silver lines for water and a silver full moon.

Kara has appropriated it to hang over her car bed so she can see the moon at night. It's very cute.

She was scarily sweet and loving today, and Aidan, the rat fink, who had me worried enough to call the doctor with his non-responsiveness, has suddenly begun responding to his name, "talking" to people, singing snatches of song and wanting to play with others instead of by himself.

I swear, I'm not calling the doctor for either of them again until I see the blood.

and because I can't quite stop talking about them without going on a little bit longer than necessary:

Today Aidan got his arm stuck in the spindles on the stairs (he's walking up and down, holding onto the spindles, instead of crawling!). When I went and wriggled his arm out of the stuck spot, Kara shouted, "Oh, Mom! You saved his wife!" She was very proud of me.

Geh. "What makes boys gay."

Geh. I can tell you, very easily, what made me gay: the same thing that makes straight people straight.

Geh. I'm deliberately NOT stepping onto my soapbox. It makes people angry with me (justifiably) because I can't discuss gay identity issues, I can only YELL, and that alienates allies and offends friends.

retires muttering to his dark corner

Hot women make me gay.

The Buffistas are responsible for my Kinsey scale sliding toward the middle. (And there are boxer shorts to prove it!)

la la la la Not going to submit to the Demon of Rantings. Nope. Cuz you folk are all smart 'n stuff, and I'd much rather read what you write. I've read my rants before.

Many. Many. Many times. I bet Jilli can recite them, word-perfect. I shout them over the dance music in clubs, even.

Anyway. (Can you tell that a. it's boring at work and b. I've had too much caffiene today?)

I am not reading the craxy making links, because I have no time to do anything but read the last 2 days of posts and say hi. Some thoughts:

I feel that the voice is a powerful tool and have no problem using it or hearing it be used in a variety of volumes, provided it's appropriate useage. To wit: exhorting a krav class: appropriate. blathering about mindless stuff in the middle of the office: not so much.

And, oh, Cindy. I am so very sorry about the news that you and your family are coping with. I am praying for your s-i-l. I hope Scott is OK too.

Question for Jen and/or Val: what's the name of the owner type person at Judy Jetson that does such fabulous work? I needs me a haircut.

God, I'm tired. I've started showering at night so I can get to work 30-45 minutes earlier without cutting back too much on sleep. The latest I can work is about 20 after 7pm (the last bus home leaves at 7:35pm) so the extra time is helpful.

Whiney whiny whine whine!

I think I need a little aggression focus. I've started fantasizing about kicking everyone's ass, everyone I come across in the parking lot and stuff. I start fantasizing about how they would start with me, and then I would take them out. It is really weird. I need kickboxing or karate or self defense or something. Something.

Anyway, nice to see y'all. I'll try to catch up every couple of days or so, so don't chat TOO much!

And it's certainly not worth all that sifting I had to do.

I sift cocoa and powdered sugar. I hardly ever sift flour, no matter what the recipe says.

Geh. I can tell you, very easily, what made me gay: the same thing that makes straight people straight.

Neil Boortz, an otherwise annoying and largely right-wing talk show host based in Atlanta, refuses to talk to callers who start ranting about "the gay lifestyle" and "making people gay" unless they can describe, in detail, the moment they decided to be heterosexual.