Load of Bollix

Not content with irritating me with their gratuitous bus ads, now a group of unbelievers have sued to ban the phrase "so help me God" from the inaugural oath, saying it is not part of the oath as specified in the Constitution.* http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/12/30/AR2008123002858.html?nav=hcmodule You’re right, atheists. “So help me god” isn’t in there, but neither is anyone trying to put it in. It would follow that I ask what exactly you're trying to prove? You lost me somewhere between “pointless” and “get a life.” This phrase comes from a man who only committed 6 years to watching a half-starved, half-naked, poorly-equipped army die of exposure, disease, and war.** And then, to continue being the biggest anti-patriot that ever was, this chump went on to dedicate an additional 8 years of his life to holding together a nascent, unprecedented government as none of his contemporaries could.*** So you’ll agree with me that the man who started this

January I went to the dentist on January 4th at 10 AM. I purchase an electronic toothbrush with UV-light sanitizer for the head. My hygienist assures me it is the “Cadillac of toothbrushes.” I got my period on the 20th, which also happens to be Audrey’s birthday (designated, as are all birthdays in my planner, by a monster truck sticker). Pure coincidence, though I usually feel more fertile whenever I am around her. I was also probably suffering from seasonal depression by this point, because I diagnose myself with this each winter. Jim always says I can solve this by drinking more milk for the Vitamin D, but I don’t like milk, as a general rule. This just makes me feel more helpless. February I mail my tax return on Valentine’s Day. I also attend a Bon Jovi concert on the 28th and bought dog tags because I’m a cowboy, and on a steel horse I ride. I’m wanted. Dead or Alive. March I am supposed to go on a tour of the White House with my sister and her fifth grade class on the 15th, but

I live a mere 9.1 miles from my job. It takes me slightly over an hour of metroing and busing (or busing and busing) to get to my job. This means, in the approximately 129 days I have traveled to my current employer, I have logged at least 258 hours of mass transit, not taking into consideration delays, broken trains, no-show busses, or times I just couldn't take it anymore and started to walk home only to realize how truly psycho an idea this really is. 258 HOURS. This strikes me as an insane amount of time to be doing something so wholly unpleasant. I am fairly certain that Magellan circumnavigated the globe in less than 258 hours. I am also fairly certain Magellan's ship didn't smell like urine or curry or lurch uncontrollably all the time. Actually, it probably did all these things, with the exception of the curry smell…But if a curry smell DID start wafting through the air, I bet it at least had the decency to wait until after 9 AM, so the crew didn't think it was

A bus shelter that doesn ’t smell like urine. Prolly a stretch. Speaking of stretches, I’d also like to see... The second coming of Jesus. To tell us once and for all just how exactly to stimulate the economy. If you're of the school that thinks stimulating the big C is the way to go, you might as well pick me up a... Magnadoodle . I just have really good memories of these. And I’d really like to make some memories with a new... Bluetooth headset. To move forward with my evil plan of mocking nearby people aloud and not being suspected of foul play. If this doesn ’t work out, then I want… The ability to silence people at will. Think how glorious it could be! It could even give me a... A sense of purpose. I’m pretty sure Santa carries this around in his sack. Along with... 20/20 vision. I’d love to know what my hand looks like when I stick it in front of my face sans glasses. And maybe, just maybe, if we could all see a little more clearly, maybe we’d get some... Peace on Earth an