If you get a boob job, it shouldn't be so big it lifts your tits so high you can see the scar. That goes for women, too.
Apparently, the Supreme Court is hearing arguments about same sex marriage or something. I honestly don't really care. If anything, it says something about our nation that same sex marriage is even being deliberated. In Iran, after all, same sex ANYTHING is deliberated from the end of a rope. So, you know, U. S. A!!!
Again, I don't care if people with the same reproductive bits want to get hitched. Knock yourself out. It's all arguments and vitriol interspersed with blissful moments of undiluted love from the moment you say "I do," regardless of whether you prefer wang or tang.
And, chances are good you'll get unhitched at some point anyway.
What perplexes me is this ongoing, unfolding narrative that maintains same sex couples are somehow more enlightened than us knuckle-dragging Croods who inexplicably prefer partners who are more conducive to the "Male Peg A into Female Slot B" couplings. It's like the whole idea of heterosexuality is somehow passe. A historical throwback with little or no pragmatic use in today's metrosexual zeitgeist.
I'm even further annoyed by the insistence that same sex couples raise children just as well, if not better, than a mother and father couple. I mean, perhaps they do in some cases. I can accept that. Just don't tell me same sex couples are somehow MORE adept in general at raising children.
We all screw up our children in some way. Probably several ways.
The other day, I was having a difficult time putting my contact lenses in after I took a shower, so I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, naked, leaning into the mirror, trying to determine whether my contact lens was inside out or not.
Unbeknownst to me, my 2-year-old daughter had toddled into the bathroom and decided that odd thing dangling between my legs needed to be tugged on, for some reason.
I'm not sure where, exactly, my contact lens ended up--although the shocked flail of my arms could very well have sent it slicing through the window and into the neighbor's lawn across the street--but I think both my daughter and I emerged from the experience slightly wiser as to the pros and cons of a traditional, mixed sex marriage and family.
Ready or not, we're getting a new Pope!
"But, what was wrong with the old Pope?" you whine, like my 3-year-old son demanding frozen yogurt.
Nothing was wrong with the old Pope, beyond the fact he found himself a tad under-equipped to manage a worldwide staff that can't quite adequately deal with such everyday stresses as NOT indulging in sexual scandals.
I mean, think about it: you've finally reached the pinnacle of your theology career--which has a low ceiling for advancement even in the best of circumstances. You have the robes, the epic hat, the golden scepter of Holy Awesomeness, the bulletproof Tupperware-topped Pope-Mobile and your own personal Sistine Chapel bedecked with frescoes depicting naked people as far as the eye can see. I mean, you've MADE IT. You're the POPE!!
And then the Pope Phone rings and you're informed of another sexual scandal. Again. And again. And again. And, you know what? AGAIN! Suddenly, being the Pope seems less like a direct line to God and more like trying to chaperone a high school dance.
Thus, Pope Benedict XVI unexpectedly tendered his resignation in late February, sparking a firestorm of media speculation and causing the world to stop and ask "What's a Pope?"
Not to worry though! A new Pope is on the way! The Catholic Church, which is known for responding to change at breakneck speed--seriously, they'll break necks before they change--is convening the College of Cardinals at the Vatican even as I write this, and they'll soon be chatting amongst themselves to elect a new Pope.
And how does the College of Cardinals elect a new Pope? By throwing their votes into a fire to create smoke, so an expectant crowd awaiting outside can see the smoke billow from a chimney, of course! It's just like U.S. elections, in other words, except the U.S. allows dead people to vote, too.
For many of us, the idea of hiring someone by throwing votes into a fire may seem somewhat unusual but, I guarantee, anyone who has sat in on a job interview would LOVE to see smoke issue from a chimney informing them THEY'RE HIRED!
At any rate, the world remains Pope-less--without Pope--for the time being and the media is doing it's best to ask the most important questions that need to be asked during an interim wherein a worldwide religion is without a spiritual leader. Specifically, the media wants to know: "What will the old Pope do now?" Seriously, that's what the media's been asking.
Without even consulting Wikipedia, I can tell you what the old Pope will be doing. He'll be busy NOT BEING THE POPE! I mean, the guy was THE POPE, for crying out loud. I don't imagine he has a lot more on his career bucket list. Although, it would be rather entertaining to see him sit in on a job interview for a Wal-Mart greeter position.
WAL-MART MANAGER: *clicking pen* So, Mr. . . "The XVI" is it? Do you have any experience greeting people?
POST-POPE POPE: Well, I WAS the Pope. I oversaw a few well-attended masses.
WAL-MART MANAGER: Uh. . . huh. Let me just write that down here: M-A-S-S-E-S. Got it. Do you have any objection to wearing a uniform every day?
POST-POPE POPE: I. . . THINK I can manage that.
WAL-MART MANAGER: Great. Oh, and can you provide your own vehicle?
POST-POPE POPE: That shouldn't be a problem.
WAL-MART MANAGER: It sounds like you'd make a perfect addition to our Wal-Mart greeter team! Welcome aboard!
POST-POPE POPE: You know what? On second thought, you can kiss my ring, pal.
