Millions of little members of the worldwide F.F.A. (Future Followers of the Antichrist) have finally learned how to find a certain part of their lower anatomy and quickly touch it while dancing – thanks to Michael Jackson, the highest paid Lower Anatomy Toucher of all time! Special thanks also go to the Jesus-bashing, Hell-bound Hollywood moguls who were just as quick to see higher profits in lower anatomies! [Just saw this opinion on the web. Other grabby items on MSN, Google, etc. include "Separation of Raunch and State," "David Letterman's Hate, Etc.," "Tribulation Index becomes Rapture Index," and "Bible Verses Obama Avoids." - something for everyone!]

Because we have too many Chicken Little’s running around shrieking about it, just like the F22.

LOL Talk about people livin’ in mommy and daddy’s basement. Looks like bad boy Ensign is figaturively gettin’ mommy and daddy to pay off his nookie.

Who will replace “Daddy buy me some more nookie in Nevada now?” The hits just keep on comin’ from the Bozo the Clown party. How about Sylvio Berlusconi for Senatuh from Nevada?

Take a breather PrPi2012.

You’re paranoia is running in overdrive.

Sheesh!

Weirdo…

Palin is clearly terrified. Her M.O. is to cloak her terror in grandiosity. Both shine through in the suppressed hysteria of her increasingly strange appearances before the camera. That precipitous, wacky, overcaffeinated aria on the back lawn of her house on the eve of the Fourth reminded me of another memorable moment in the chronicles of celebrity—a speech the unraveling Princess Diana made in December 1993. “Over the next few months,” the princess announced to a startled audience at a luncheon to benefit the Headway National Injuries Association in London, “I will be seeking a more suitable way of combining a meaningful public role, with hopefully, a more private life. I hope you can find it in your hearts to understand and give me the time and space that has been lacking in recent years.” Then she burst into tears.

Of all the politicians who invoke a renewed desire to “spend more time with their families” as their careers go down in flames (try Mark Sanford’s Fourth of July at home on Sullivan’s Island with Jenny—that couldn’t have been pretty), Palin is the one politician who could have uttered those words and been believed—by her public, and also by plenty of people outside “the base.” She is not only a beleaguered governor of a troubled state, who is pretending to be interested in gas pipelines and “championing ethics reform” while in the middle of a cascade of ethics charges. She is also a mother trying to deal with a Down syndrome baby boy, a needy 7-year-old girl, and a teenage daughter who is herself an unwed mother with an infant whose father, a teenage self-described “redneck,” has turned out to be as fond of the red light on the TV camera as his erstwhile mother-in-law-elect.