It is hard to point and laugh when it is people you might have to deal with on a daily basis. I get that. I get the need to make them cry. It's just... ime, they are so fucking oblivious, they don't know what shame is. And what shame others might heap upon them, they've acquired on their own, though they remain oblivious. But I still want to bash their heads with it.

OK, REALIO TRULIO going to bed now.

I'm trying to keep my inner troll in check.

Ah, okay. They're still not worth your time. Plus I don't know if going brain damage on them will make you feel oodles and oodles better.

When I get like this, Allyson, my wise DH says "There are only so many minutes in a day, why waste them engaging with idiots?" I have a compulsion to correct wrong-headed folks (DH named it my teacher mentality), even though it is useless to them and they are aggravating to me. I have gotten much better about not engaging, but I would like to add that for all his wisdom, he still hasn't stopped becoming absolutely livid at bad drivers.

C'mon over, DJ. I have no scotch, but I have my father's homemade wine!

I've said it before, but this show breaks me, in millions of tiny pieces.

Allyson, we know you could grind them into the ground with your words and make them cry, and that's all that matters. The rest of 'em? Let them act like cavemen. It only reflects on them.

edited for clarification.

Allyson, when the kitten thing was at its height, DeMoriel said, "Will it matter in five years?"

Clearly, the objectification of women will. Ripping new ones for the idiots with whom you're arguing won't.

Plus, you're a famous author now, baby. You've got to protect your reputation.

Cindy, why on earth are you up? Everything OK?

Everything is fine, but I took a way too long nap this afternoon, and threw off my antibiotic schedule, and have a sinus headache/migrainey sort of thing. TV was cheesing me off, so I figured I'd check in, here.

It is hard to point and laugh when it is people you might have to deal with on a daily basis.

Oh no. I'm with you. Bleeding heart, tree hugging, pinko, feminist liberal from the south and living in Texas. It's just that I'm a smug asshole most of the time, so I muddle through.

I read the blog of our local paper. The sheer number of things these people write. And they think the couple of people who are on their board who say things like, "I don't like the war either, but does that Sheehan woman have to make such a scene?!?" are their liberal voices that balance out the five or so hardcore conservatives- with, it must be said, one dissention in the ranks as far as the war goes, but other than that, he hates us dirty hippies too.

I tried to explain to a woman yesterday, that perhaps waiting around to marry a rich guy so you can sit around and watch his snotty nosed kids while he has an actual life, and then if you decide you maybe don't like being his housemaid and nanny and emotional caregiver, you can't leave because he makes all the money, was maybe not the best use of your relatively young life...I was met with blinking and staring. Thus the laughing and pointing. Keeps me sane.

I think I have a reputation for being a fool on the net. Heh.

Okay, slowly coming down off the ledge with my cricket bat.

I would go to bed, but have to wait for the dryer to finish. Fifteen more minutes.

I am going to think about how I'm driving up the coast with Kristen to stay in a swank hotel and go to Wondercon.

I have no scotch, but I have my father's homemade wine!

I can bring my own! It's cask strength, which apparently gets me drunk in two glasses instead of my usual six. (Well, six plus some Jager shots).