Rumsfeld Suspected of Foul Play in Saget Scheduling Conflict

so, it looks like we are rid of rumsfeld, but who do we get in place of him but another Bush family friend. great. in some of his parting remarks, rumsfeld blamed lack of support for the Iraqi war on the 'complexity of the situation being to difficult to comprehend' for most of this countries citizens. ridiculous! certain things do boil down. for example, cabbage and international politics. and if we're all so dumb, why waste so much life and money defending a nation of idiots?
and why are the elderly running our country? and since they are, why aren't we sending them in to throw their lives away for the cause that only they are wise enough to comprehend? rochester has plenty of those electric wheelchair thingymajigs we could donate to the elderly infantry. let THEM go out in a blaze of glory, i say. when 70 year olds start making bad decisions, we usually put them in a home, not give them more power. who gets to decide who's senile and who isn't? i'm irritated.
oh, and just so you know, bob saget's slated appearance at the auditorium today has been cancelled due to a conflict with his tv schedule....!!!??? must have an old person booking his appointments. i need to start watching more television.

Kitten, kitten, who's got the kitten?

Everything I own- scarves, socks, birdies and bells- they all swing and jingle to fuel the furry grey fury of Achi the Kitten. She attacks life with claws out, poised for combat and unembarrassed by defeat. I, on the other hand, writhe in shame and misery at the slightest rumour of defeat, regardless how spurious the source. I sense disapproval from a virtual stranger and plunge into a coma of depression obsessing over wasted years devoid of talent and worth. Where is the zest of my kitten-hood? How I long for the days of my youth, when toys cowered in my presence and innocence triumphed over shame! Poppycock! No such days existed. I blushed upon birth and immediately demanded that my father put down his Bible and fucking dress me.
But then, there's Albert- the prodigal kitty. He disappeared the night Buffalo was buried by snow and we assumed he was corralling around that great cathouse in the sky by now. But (!!!) he returned last week, shivering and dirty, with a newfound zeal for napping. (A zeal that I personally find to be self-renewing. Naps spring from some great aquifer of torpor housed deep within my lazy-ass soul.) His is a renaissance of lethargy hitherto unseen in paranoid kittyland, where even blankets and pillows host hidden terrors unknown to man. Before he disappeared, he was a noisy, nervous cat. I'm quite glad to see that his tenure outdoors has lightened him up a bit. He can now almost certainly be spotted lazing about on beds and poof chairs alike, praising Jesus under his breath for guiding him home. I swear you can see a halo above his head and the slightest traces of angels’ wings. I've never seen him so content. Even his interest in Tiberius the Bird has waned considerably. I, for one, am certain that he was in a tight spot outdoors and some friendly birds came to his aid. Honestly, no more likely or alluring explanation can be found.
Earlier today, I walked home for lunch through sidewalks shrouded in a mist that popped and burst around my nose like freshly poured cola. The leaves that had not yet succumbed to winter glittered and hung from the trees like golden ornaments. I trampled their fallen brothers and sisters under my feet and thought about how I no longer have anything of interest to impart to the world. I have eked out my last bit of usefulness and am ready to collapse, a wispy wraith culled of value and left on the universal threshing floor. I used to work with this girl named Angel. She told me one day that I take nothing in stride, which was funny because I had fancied myself easy going at the time. I've second guessed myself ever since. Way to go, Angel.