I Found Waldo!

These errant youths that worry us!

Friend found, all is well, now I can fly to California with a peace of mind.

Freak Dancing

ABC says the 13th season of the hit show will feature a mix of actors, athletes and TV personalities. Set to tango and quickstep with professional dance partners will be basketball star Ron Artest; World Cup soccer player Hope Solo; reality stars Robert Kardashian, Kristin Cavallari and Chaz Bono; TV personalities Nancy Grace, Carson Kressley and Ricki Lake; singer-actress Chynna Phillips; actors David Arquette and J.R. Martinez; and Italian actress Elisabetta Canalis, who may be better known in the United States for being George Clooney's ex-girlfriend.

Myeh.  Call me when they finally book Stephen Hawking . . .

It ain't a bus tour . . .

. . . but I'll be on the road this week, so blogging will be light, if at all.  That's the problem when you've got a solo practice, you know?

LAUSD Throws Party for Pedophile

One of the advantages of being in Family Law is you have access to back stories regarding some of the cases on the court's calendar.  This one takes the cake . . . literally.

Meet Sean Wellbaum.  Sean used to be a school teacher at Gaspar de Portola Middle School in Tarzana, CA, part of the great Los Angeles Unified School District.  But Sean won't be coming back this school year - he's taking, well, shall we say, a leave of absence for three years.

Mission to Ghana to feed starving children?  Sabbatical to get his Master's degree?  Well, we hope he meets his master, so to speak, because Sean was arrested back in February 2011 for molestation of a minor.  And earlier this month took a plea bargain, getting three years in the hokey.  No doubt to be spent in Special Yard rather than General Population, alas.

But here's the back story - Sean still insists he is innocent.  He's just pleading guilty because he would have been railroaded in court and would have been facing a longer sentence.  Yeah, sure - even though the DA hasn't a case, it makes sense to plead guilty to being a pedophile and face a post-prison lifetime of registry on megan's List, halfway houses, and mnimal chances for meaningful employment.  Certainly can't go back to teaching, eh?

But wait, there's more!  A week from tomorrow, Sean has to report to his new home and in the meanwhile . . . his former colleagues are throwing him a "going away" party!  Yes, the principal - Adrienne "Drini" Shaha - believes poor Sean was "wrongfully accused."  In fact, it seems a number of his colleagues have been taken in by this manipulating piece of shit and are sorry to see him go . . . so let's show him we care, gang! 

Okay . . . just how fucking depserate can you be for cake?  I mean, what was it - everyone had hoped last month to get a slice for Bob's birthday, but Bob is a Jehovah's Witness, so everyone missed out?  But hey, Sean's leaving - there's still a reason to call the bakery!  And none of that cheap Ralph's shit, either, get it from Von's.  Oh, and hey - pot luck, guys!

But more importantly, how does this look for LAUSD?  This raises questions, such as where this party will be - certainly, not on school grounds, I hope, and ix-nay on the Chuck E. Cheese - but more seriously, how safe are your kids in this school?  When the person trusted with that safety - "Drini" - thinks it is appropriate to throw a "going away" party for a teacher who has pled guilty to child sexual abuse because he is "going away" to jail, you have to question the common sense of such idiots.  Are public funds - hell, are union funds - being used for this shindig?! 

If you want, here is Princiapl Drini's message at the school - sadly, it looks like there is only a contact form, but ask her if you can get an invitation.  I bet the speech from Sean is gonna be great.  Maybe they will pass a hat for him, though I hear cigarettes is the currency mostly used at his new digs.  I wanna know - what the hell are they gonna write on the cake?!  "Good luck, Sean?I"  "Keep your back to the wall, Sean?!"

By the way - for fun, you can rate Sean Wellbaum as a teacher here!

Trust Me, You Don't Want to See Him Angry . . .

As Kentucky-based Sawyer, 58, points out: "I scarcely think Jesus could have overturned the tables of the money-lenders and driven them from the temple if he was a wimp. The model I use for my paintings is a surfer guy who's built like a brick shithouse."

I approve.  My Messiah can beat up your messiah, Tom Cruise!

Today is the Martyrdom of St. John the Baptist or how I set about the destruction of California 10 years ago today . . .

In the Catholic Church, today we commemorate the martyrdom of St. Jon the Baptist.  You know the story.  Bad grrrl Salome's mother was all pissed that John insinuated she was a harlot - which back in the day was, like, the "c" word, OMG - and so pimped her daughter by having her do a bit of the bump-n-grind in front of Herod.  Since the dollar bill had not yet been invented, nor the g-string, Herod showed his appreciation by telling Salome that he would give her anything she wanted.  And since MAC cosmetics had no been invented, nor malls, Salome - as clueless as any teenager - did what her mother said and asked for the head of John the Baptist on a platter.  And Herod obliged.

Now fast forward to June 2001.  I was studying law in a special program at the University of Bologna, Italy.  On one of my Saturdays, I happened to head down to Firenze (Florence) with some of the others in the program to soak up some culture in the city known for Dante's 'nabe and, of course, Michalangelo's David.

I was gazing upon aforesaid sculpture, thinking to myself, holy shit, that has to be the biggest goddamn schwang every sculpted, when the room suddenly started buzzing and, despite the stern admonishments of old lady docents yelling, "No photos!  No photos!", cameras started going off.  I soon discerned - after tearing my eyes away from the four-foot one-eyed snake of David, that Arnold Schwarzenegger had entered the room.  I couldn't get anywhere near the guy and as he moved to another room, I said to my colleagues, "I'm going to go up and meet him."  So I followed him.

By the time I caught up with AH-nold, he was standing by a painting of . . . that's right, the martyrdom of St. John the Baptist.  "Vot does thees picture deepict?" I heard him ask his guide.  The heathen admitted she did not know.  Recognizing my chance, I casually strolled up to Arnold and said, "Really?  What kind of good Catholic boy are you that you can't recognize Salome dancing before Herod, before asking for the head of St. John the Baptist?"

He laughed, and said, "I guess not a very good one."  I introduced myself, quickly adding that, like him, I was a Californian far from home.  And then said, "And what are I thinking, saying you won't run for governor?  Davis is ruining the state!"

Now Arnold was pushing away the members of the entourage approaching to hustle me away.  "I couldn't agree more with you, Stephanie!  Tell me, do you think I should run for governor?"  I replied, "If you will bring the fiscal conservatism we need, you will have my vote.  Run, Mr. Schwarzenegger - we need you!"  He vigorously pumped my hand and promised, he would give it a second thought and yes, he would cut needless spending in Sacramento. 

Lying sonofabitch.  Bastard ran, won - with my vote - and turned into the biggest damn RINO in state history.  So I skipped town and moved to Tennessee.  After unleashing the Governator upon the Golden State's populace.  Because I am sure Arnold necer would have run if he did not have the chance to go back to his hotel that night, and say, "Maria, my destiny has been foretold, for lo, a Californian spake unto me this day and convinced me I must unseat that piece of scheiss in Sacramento . . ." 

Maybe I owe a apology to the people of California . . . naw, that guilt ended by the dumbasses voted in Jerry Brown again.

The lesson from all this?  Only give your support to the pricks on statues because the living ones can't be trusted.

Why isn't the court sanctioning Dad and the kids for wasting its time?

Raised in a $1.5 million Barrington Hills, Ill., home by their attorney father, two grown children have spent the last two years pursuing a unique lawsuit against their mom for "bad mothering" that alleges damages caused when she failed to buy toys for one and sent another a birthday card he didn’t like. 

In 2009, the children, represented by three attorneys including their father, Steven A. Miner, sued their mother, Kimberly Garrity. Steven II, now 23, and his sister Kathryn, now 20, sought more than $50,000 for "emotional distress." 

Among the exhibits filed in the case is a birthday card Garrity sent her son, who in his lawsuit sought damages because the card was "inappropriate" and failed to include cash or a check. He also alleged she failed to send a card for years or, while he was in college, care packages.

What I want to know is why didn't the trial court bitch slap these two morons, and their attorneys, including their lawyer-father.  Evidently, Daddy has money to burn but you know what?  The court does not have the resources to waste on foolishness like this.  As an attorney, I am hard pressed to identify their cause of action - you know, you can't simply trip nancily into court and say, "I wanna sue someone!" - and it looks as if the complaint is for intentional/negligent infliction of emotional distress.

Emotional distress?  And here I tell my kids, whenever they bitch and moan, work it out in therapy when you're an adult.  Case in point: last night, my son asked if he could go to a public school when it was time for him to go to high school. Answer: unless we can't afford Catholic school - no. Children can make their decision regarding college because then they are adults - but I also have the decision to make as to whether I want to subsidize that education. Or throw some gelt towards anything they want to do in life.

Let me guess - these kids are still living in Daddy's home and since they are 20 and 23, and the case has been going on since 2009, Daddy was just chomping at the bit to file this for them when the youngest turned 18 as a sort of "sloppy seconds" to his divorce.  Evidently, he felt he just didn't give it to the bitch enough during that.

Disbar Dad's ass.  And make those little pricks pay court and attorney fees.

Oh please, she was trying to stir up the "us against them" crowd . . .

Okay, first - Claudia Alvarez is an idiot for saying what she did in a Santa Ana city council, taking on one of the commercial landlords - who happens to be Jewish - by comparing him to Adolf Hitler and accusing him of "ethnic cleansing," the latter meaning he wants to bring in new tenants to his buildings that will, in all likelihood, replace the Mexican-owned businesses there with non-Mexicans.  Que lastima, but areas go through changes and a man has the right to do with his private property what he wants.

Okay, so Claudia apologized - to practcially all media except Irv Chase personally.  About that, she had this to say:

She will not, however, be apologizing personally to Irv Chase and his son, Ryan, both of whom were the target of her caustic statements on Wednesday. "As you know, it's not an amicable relationship, but my apology has been everywhere," Alvarez said. Given "the issues between the personalities involved," she added, "I think it's best for us to stay apart from each other at this point."

Oh, well, that's really . . . punk ass.  Really?  Claudia, if you can't be grown up to face an opponent and apologize for poor choice of words, then maybe you're not grown up enough to be a politician. 

But were her comments racist or anti-Semitic?  I noticed a link to a blog written by Theo Hirsch who offers this as a defense:

Claudia Alvarez did NOT make anti-Semitic remarks; she did not, she did not, she did not! I am going to kick and scream like a little girl until people realize that the ADL and Erv Chase Are Both full of shit; but trust me, while I am ripping and “defaming” certain political and money grubbing figures around here, I am going to make some logical points. And Carlos Bustamonte, You sound like a little pussy (and please imagine a high pitched nosy voice when reading this quote, which I am paraphrasing, although it’s pretty spot on): “What she was saying was so outrageous and so, em, Vial, I was really *Gulp* shocked that she would say a thing like that”… LOL!!!! Oh my God, you are such a little pussy Carlos! You call yourself a man? You actually said that in front of the entire state of California and probably the nation? LoLoLoL… That is sooooooooooooooooooooo fucking hilarious it makes me want to upchuck my lunch in laughter.

Well . . . that was random. 

But I will say this.  It was reported that when Claudia delivered wat she thought was her coup de gras against Irv Chase, perhaps she wasn't seeking to insult him for being a Jew - but I think it was fair to say that what she was doing was trying to align those opposing gentrification in downtown Santa Ana - who, by default, are largely Mexican - with her against the "greedy" landlord.  The exchange occurred thusly:

“Ryan and Irv Chase … are very much interested in continuing the ethnic cleansing that is going on downtown,” Alvarez said as she began her comments on the PBID, setting the tone for what was to come. 

Alvarez said she had inquired about why Downtown Inc. has its offices in one of the Chases’ buildings and was told it was because the organization got “a great deal” on the rent. “So if Hitler rents you a place, gives you a great deal, you take it?,” she said. 

At that point, Irv and Ryan Chase walked out of the council chambers to shouts of “get out of town” and “stop taking our money” from anti-PBID partisans. 

After the meeting, Alvarez was unrepentant about having compared a Jewish man to Hitler. “I’m not calling him Hitler,” she said. “I used it as an example. Maybe an extreme example, but if the shoe fits …”

So how about this?  How about if Claudia knows there are those in the audience who want to see the Jew "get out of town", by pandering to them and going for the shock value to get them riled up - that is her racism.  And don't say it is not about race, when she starts by using a term ethnic cleansing.  Claudia framed the issue that way, and then delivers a sure crowd-pleaser - and gets what she wants, judging by the audience's reaction.

So Theo can kick and scream like a little girl - although I am not really sure what that gets him or how that serves as a defense to Claudia - but using the racism of others for your own purposes is as bad as believing it yourself.

Calvin and Hobbes in Adventure Time

Saw it on Reddit.  I like watching this show with my kids.

Where's Waldo?

Okay, now I am getting worried.

My friend, John, and I have an app on our iPhones that let's each other see where in the world the other one is.  As an example, as I drove from California to Tennessee, unbeknownst to me, John was watching as I crossed over the California border into Arizona, but I found out when suddenly a text sprung up from him - "You escaped!"

My daughter claims he and I are each other's stalkers.  That's why I changed my iPhone that whenever a text comes through from John, it plays the "Suspense" tone, which sounds cool and ominous.

But's here where the worry comes in.  Right now, John is somewhere in Europe.  The app we use reports a "stale" location whenever the person's iPhone GPS is unavailable.  And for the last four days, John's had a stale location - the train station in Schwindratzheim, France.  That was the last time he got wifi and we exchanged texts on some news regarding a mutual friend that I had to get to him.  He was on his way to Paris - and the GPS has not been updated since.

Now, it could be a case of non-access to wifi (even though the GPS may be on, the app requires wifi to report on locations).  But I know he was due in Paris and then London.  Both places have plenty of free wifi - heck, even McDonalds overseas provides free wifi.  Maybe he lost his iPhone, as he did in Mexico just a few weeks ago (okay, it wasn't technically "lost", let's just say it became "non-functional" after coming in contact with chlorinated water) - but he has his iPad with him, and that becomes his backup when the iPhone isn't working.

Okay, I'll admit it - parts of Europe have become Eurabia and that is why I am worried.  A single, White guy by himself in two of the more "Islamicized" cities does not make me happy, especially if that guy happens to be someone who has the status of "baby brother" with me.

This Thursday, when I am back in California, I am due to pick him up at LAX when he flies back in, so we get a chance to see each other.  He had better walk off that plane . . . or I'm calling Interpol.

Where's Waldo?!

I like today's Gospel . . .

because it teaches up that you can be an absolute fuck-up and still become Pope!

Jesus began to show his disciples
that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly
from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes,
and be killed and on the third day be raised.
Then Peter took Jesus aside and began to rebuke him,
"God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you."
He turned and said to Peter,
"Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me.
You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do."

No, I do not mean this post to be a criticsm against the pope, be it Benedict XVI, John Paull II (whom my father always called "J.P. the Deuce"), or any Pope.  I just think today St. Peter shows us that no matter how stupid you can be, there is still hope for sainthood.

I mean, it's Jesus yelling at him.  Not some other Apostle taking him aside, after Peter, oh, tries to convince the Lord to completely forgo that whole "salvation for the world thang, and says, "Pete . . . I think you really stepped in it this time."  Which I am sure happened quite often.  Not to disparage Peter, but he sort of was the Joe Biden of the Twelve, you know?  Only, unlike Obama (and Jesus is really, really, really, really unlike Obama), the Christ gives it to him.  Look, when God's only Son calls you "Satan" . . . it's bad. 

And yet . . . Peter remains in charge.  He remains the rock.  And brings our Church into its post-Resurrection work, even surrending himself to martyrdom.

There is hope for us all.  As Fr. Leonel Vargas once said at Mass, "I hope to see you in Heaven."  Me too - and I hope you'll be wearing a crown.

Newfound Gap in the GSMNP

Yesterday, I drove US 441 from Gatlinburg, TN through to Cherokee, NC.  This is a popular drive through the Great Smoky Mountains as it traverses the whole park and has some lovely stopping off points along the way.

Traffic was not so bad.  I did not expect to take outstanding pictures as I wanted to do this to orient myself for future trips.  But I will say this - to drive through the Eastern woodlands again, and especially knowing it was now part of my home, moved me.  Despite years living in the West, my heart belongs in the East and the drive brought back memories of childhood summers in upstate New York.

I took this photo at Newfound Gap, which straddles the Tennessee/North Carolina border, in several exposures to process as a HDR picture:

I got to see the other side, in North Carolina.  I stopped for a break in a small town called Sylva - wound up having an hour conversation with Pixie of Pixie's Emporium and Bistro - who knew, she's a New Yorker from Queens! - and the accents came out . . . go figure.

I also did the same shot in black and white, and tritone.  Can't figure out which I like best (though I am partial to tritone . . .)

Pity, he had talent but his hubris did him in . . .

Facebook is a wierd and surreal other world.  I have quite a few friends and most of whom I don't even know that well.  That's okay, I know who I can rely upon and who would be so understanding of me that they would ask me for my help.

But I saw a post by Gustavo Arellano of the OC Weekly, saying that he was approaching the 5,000 mark on Facebook and basically was putting the last 10 spots up for grabs, when he posted:

"has a request for ustedes who have submitted a friend request to me, who can read my status updates, but whom I've yet to approve due to me having too many already: I have space for 10 right now—message me your case as to why you should join my bola de cabron@s! Best ones get snuck in!"

I read that and realized . . . no, he's not a real friend and frankly, I'm tired of his ustedes schtick, as well as the myriad of "friends" who think whatever Gustavo does or thinks is soooooo right.  And if that means going agsinst, say the Dream Act, well, then, we're Know-Nothings and racists.  Okay, fine by me - time to move on.  Because, seriously, it's a fucking Facebook friend thing, which - as my late father would say - that and a buck-and-a-quarter gets you on the subway.

So I said I'd defriend him, while still "liking" his "Ask a Mexican" page to "take one for the team."  To which I received the reply:

"Stephanie: You ain't going nowhere—you contribute, even if I don't agree with you sometimes. After all, who else but you will do Photoshops of Brownie [Bishop Tod Brown], or of me as a fat Mexican?"

Who, indeed.  That's when I thought I was no more than a useful prop in his agenda.  So I said, no, it's time to shut this down, and I was tired of the approximate 4,999 who think he's the greatest - used the big word "sycophants", I did. 

To which I got this:

"Stephanie: What you call "sycophants," I call truth-tellers. Keep at it with a church that protects pedophiles, and see how far that gets ya!"

Whoa, Spanky!  And he defriended me before I could do the same to him (I was stuck having lunch with my family and couldn't perform that function on my iPhone).

Ah, I see . . . as soon as I challenge "Gus", look to what level he sinks - now I'm best-buddies with pedophiles.  Wow, from "ain't going nowhere" to complete condemnation - who knew an ego could be so fragile.

I think the real problem is that Gustavo has become a broken record - viva la raza! and any criticism means that person becomes anathema and fair game for low blows.  Which, now that I think about it, is pretty much what Scientologists do.  It is a shame, really - Gustavo once shared with me an outstanding article he wrote about a charismatic, faith-healing service he attended which was wonderful journalism.  And I give him credit - he recently scolded Claudia Alvarez for her "Hitler" comment at a Santa Ana city council meeting - although I cannot really tell if he condemns her statements for what she said or because it means she lost ground against Irv Chase - whom he calls a "member of the Tribe" (as if that isn't anti-Semitic!) - as exemplified when he wrote:  "Thanks a lot, Claudia, for now making criticism against the Chases nigh-impossible."  See, Claudia, you gotta learn the ropes with those damn Jews, else you ruin it for all of us trying to keep development out of Santa Ana!

But now that someone wants to bring "Ask a Mexican!" to Broadway, I suspect that "Ask a Mexican!" has grown beyond the OC Weekly, because that has the potential to make him some serious dinero than just being the managing editor of an alternative weekly whose income is largely derived from advertisements for medical marijuana attorneys and Botox specialists.  And therein lies my problem - it's boring.  Yeah, George Lopez was once edgy but really?  His stand up has become repetitive and so too has the whole Arellano ustedes thing.

So, adios, Gustavo - yeah, I'l continue to attend Mass in a Catholic Church (you know, you said if God granted you a certain favor, you'd attend Mass once again - I believe He held to His end of that bargain, did you?) and "keep at it" with the pedophiles while you "bring a little Brown" to the Great White Way, as Broadway is known. 

A shame - I used to enjoy reading his work, until I realized I was reading the same sentence over and over . . .

Michael Vick can still go fuck himself

Dear ESPN,

This isn't controversial . . .

This still is . . .

And Eagles fans - don't whine about how unfair it was that Vick got a bigger punishment for dog fighting than DonteStallworth go for DUI manslaughter.  Because they're both bitches.  Maybe what's unfair is that they're both not still wearing jumpsuits.

And I'm not saying this because I'm a Giants fan.  Although the Eagles can also go fuck themselves for hiring a thug.

God Bless Pat Summit

Now that I am in Vol territory, of course I heard the news about Coach Pat Summit.  Earlier this week, she announced that she had been diagnosed at the Mayo Clinic with early onset Alzheimers.

This woman is a legend - she is starting her thirty-eigth year as the coach of the Lady Vols basketball team.  She is the only - that's right, only - men's or women's college basketball coach to reach 1,000 wins.  More than even the late, great John Wooden.

As soon as the news came out, a Facebook page started called We've Got Your Back, Pat.  It asked people to wear orange today to show your support of her.  I cannot tell you how much orange I saw today.  Even at the nail salon, one woman asked me, "Is that orange for Coach Pat?"  "Yes, ma'am," I replied, "It is!"

I am not a basketball fan.  But I am a fan of good people - and Pat Summit exemplifies goodness and professionalism.  Always support such folk.

We've got your back, Pat!

Go Get the Hank . . .

I love King of the Hill.

WTC Death Certificate 0001

Some New York politicians and religious leaders are criticizing Mayor Michael Bloomberg for not offering clergy members a role in the high-profile ceremonies marking 10 years since the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center, The Wall Street Journal reported.

As a special tribute, do you remember who received the first death certificate from the World Trade Center?

Yeah, I know it's hard to see, but that lifeless man is wearing a Roman collar.  Not some passerby, Fr. Mychal Judge, an FDNY chaplain, ran into the building with the firefighters and was killed while giving Last Rites to one of them. 

So just like the other surviving first responders whom Dipshit didn't invite to the planned ceremony, on September 11, 2001, clergy . . .  they showed up.

"Children are not inherently unable to consent to sex with an adult . . ."

You know, it seem it has been awhile since God had a smiting party and smote some of the evil people in the world.  I got a place where He could start.

On Wednesday, August 17, child advocates Matt Barber, Vice President of Liberty Counsel Action, and Dr. Judith Reisman, a visiting law professor at Liberty University School of Law, attended a Baltimore, MD conference hosted by the pedophile group B4U-ACT. Around 50 individuals were in attendance including a number of admitted pedophiles – or “Minor-Attracted Persons” as they prefer to be identified (MAP “sexual orientation”) .

MAPs, really?  Not MPPs - Minor Preying Persons?  This conference was about how pedophilia needs to be revised in the DSM-IV, the manual of psychological disorders used by the field.

Highlights from the conference!

• Pedophiles are “unfairly stigmatized and demonized” by society.
• “Children are not inherently unable to consent” to sex with an adult.
• “Anglo-American standard on age of consent is new [and ‘Puritanical’]. In Europe it was always set at 10 or 12. Ages of consent beyond that are relatively new and very strange, especially for boys. They’ve always been able to have sex at any age.”
• “Assuming children are unable to consent lends itself to criminalization and stigmatization.”
• A consensus belief by both speakers and pedophiles in attendance was that, because it vilifies MAPs, pedophilia should be removed as a mental disorder from the American Psychiatric Association’s (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), in the same manner homosexuality was removed in 1973.
• The DSM ignores that pedophiles “have feelings of love and romance for children” in the same way adult heterosexuals and homosexuals have romantic feelings for one another.
• The DSM should “focus on the needs” of the pedophile, and should have “a minimal focus on social control,” rather than obsessing about the “need to protect children.”

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.

If that is the case, should all those victims of sexual abuse in the Catholic Church return the money?

And if pedophilia is removed from the DSM-IV, can we see a health insurance company accepting an application from a pedophile, but denying coverage to, say, someone "normal" with bipolar disorder, as is what happens now?

I'm sorry, it had to be done . . .

Irene is coming so it's time to quit all that charitable crap . . .

Because after all, it is all about survival of the fittest.

I like the way weather forecasters on radio and television have a wet dream of hyperbole when any tropical storm is upgraded to a hurricane.  The storm no longer has a "projected path" - no, as I heard today, the anthromorphizing begins and "Irene has put a target square on the Carolinas."  As if at sometime in the past, after Irene stole North Carolina's boyfriend, the two Carolinas got together and ambushed Irene as she was comin' out of Dollar Store and pulled that cheap weave right off of that bitch's head.

Of course, people are said to be preparing, which means for most a run on plywood, water, eggs, milk, and bread - because evidently in a hurricane, everyone seems to get a hankering for bread pudding and it's the only thing that will stave off famine.  Which means vegans are screwed but it is not like anyone cares about them anyway.

I wonder how my friend in North Carolina will use this as an excuse to stock up on her essentials - smokes and liquor.  Sure, she's about 200 miles inland from the coean but hell, as some Obama lackey once said, you can't let a good crisis go to waste.

My daughter wants to be a damn pusher on Sundays . . .

Remarkably, before leaving California, I had never brought my kids to a Chik-Fil-A.  I mean, we had to travel all the way to Tennessee - by conestoga wagon Subaru - for my kids to finally eat one of them "chik'n" sammiches.

But  when are you most likely to crave a Chik-Fil-A sammich?  That's right, gordito . . . on Sunday, when the damn place is CLOSED!  Chik-Fil-A is a born again, holy-rollin', purrrrraise-Jesus-an'-pass-me-a-napkin-will-ya? kind of place, whereby the Lord-a spake unto the Board-a offa Director and  said-a ye shall not-a gird thy loins and sell CHICKEN! on a Sunday . . .

So we are driving down I-75 last Sunday, having just spent a good hour in complete Mary-worship at our local mackeral-snappin' Catholic church (shhh, they think we really do that) and my daughter sees a sign for Chik-Fil-A, containing the caption "closed on Sundays." 

"You know what we need?", asked Dolly Girl.

"No, what?"

"We need to start a black market for fast food.  You know, if someone really wants Chik-Fil-A on a Sunday, we could tell them to meet us somewhere, like behind a Chik-Fil-A, and we could sell it to them at a profit."

She looked out the window.

"Oh yeah, I could see us expanding.  I could go up to someone and say, 'Pssst . . . you want that Rio toy McDonald's had three months ago, I can get you a Rio toy, dude . . .'"

She smiled at me.  "It could work, Mom."

She is my retirement plan.

Mark Steyn on Freedom of Speech

Mark Steyn on Free Speech at the IPA from Institute of Public Affairs on Vimeo.

Good phrasing:  "the hierarchy of phobias"

Brother, Can You Spare a Dime Bag?

Let me start by saying I do have compassion for my fellow humans.  The chances are likely that this young man in the video suffers from some sort of mental disorder.  But, for every activist that says we cannot attach that stigma to the homeless, I will assume he does not.  So with that in mind . . .

Hey, cuz, like, guess what?  When you were 18 and studying English Lit and Creative Writing at UC Santa Cruz, like, cha, did you have any goal in mind?  You know, like, "when-I-get-out-of-college-I-wanna-do-fill-in-the-blank?"  I am guessing not - you had the expectation that someone else would provide "what's next" rather than figuring out how you, my friend, wree going to achieve that.  But I guess ot since you mentioned that when people your age are "done playing this traveling game" they go home to Mom and Dad - and sadly, you don't have that waiting for you back in California.  By the way, if you came to California when you were 18 and have a degree, and you're 23 now, chances are it was only a year ago when you graduated - what the hell have you been doing?

So at one time you had money?  What happened to it?  And what was that you were sparking up at the beginning of the film clip?  Yeah, poor you, your friends got tired of you freeoading off of them so they dropped you.  What happened, they got a J-O-B and you figured some of that wealth should be shared?

But of course - that's why you bemoan the fact that you can't get SSI ('cause, you know, like, you're not 45) and want a government program to help you out instead of thinking of what you can do for yourself.  Have you looked into teaching English in foreign lands, like Japan or China?  Have you thought about getting an entry level job and having a side business of tutoring?  Oh, and by the way, did you know that most artists - and that includes writers - practice their craft daily since they realize it is a lifelong goal to improve.  When did you last sit down and write something, or did you thin it would come with a job?  I know you don't have patience - you said as much when you figured you earn $3 an hour panhandling but said you "don't have the patience to stand out there all day."

Oh, and good luck to the budding Michael Moorette making this film.  "I seen him . . .?"  Chica, why don't you lern to speak proper English and stop with the y'alls when introducing your subject.  Leni Riefenstahl you're not.

That's okay.  Spark up another doobie and blame the rich industrialists.  You'll feel better.

Death to Narcos

This is a clip from a live broadcast in Mexico - a football game, people having an afternoon out with their families . . . and suddenly narcos start a gun battle outside the stadium.  The players rush to their locker rooms and people start panicking, running out onto the field or huddling by the sidelines, hoping no stray bullets fall in the stadium or worse, the fight comes in.

Mexico does not have the death penalty.  That is a problem because unless one of these guys happens to be killed in a gunfight upon capture, the cartels continue from inside the prisons, just as gangs do in American prisons.  It is time to stand up to this - with greater firepower.  Because the problem, if allowed to take control of the entirety of Mexico, won't stop at the border.  What the fuck, it's come across already.

Well, hell, no wonder I'm a drinking woman . . .

China is the happiest place on earth(!!) according to a new global happiness index released by North Korea's Chosun Central Television. China earned 100 out of 100 points, followed closely by North Korea (98 points), then Cuba, Iran, and Venezuela. Coming in at 203rd place is America (or rather "the American Empire", 美帝国), with only 3 happiness points. South Korea got a measly 18 points for 152nd place.

Goddamn it, I knew was living in the wrong place. 

North Korean children do not suffer the problems of obesity like lazy American kids.

Modern dentistry for the masses!

Isn't it about time Kim Jong Il assumes a new status . . . like room temperature?

Go, Sarah, Go

I've decided.  I don't care.  I want Sarah to run.

I've had people say to me, "Oh, come on, you can't possibly like Sarah Palin!"

Fuck yeah, I do.  

I want her to be our next President.  Maybe for once I'll sleep easily knowing she is at the helm. 

Crystal Cathedral: No Japanese Succubi Allowed

Oh please, as if they'd want to go there . . .

A commentator brought to my attention that Hobby Lobby - the retail craft store who currently has a bid of $47 million for Rev. Schuller's bankrupt Crystal Cathedral - does not intend to give it to Rick Warren, as they did when the store bought Schuller's retreat in Southern Orange County, but to The King's University, whose chancellor is Jack Hayford, a Foursquare Church.

Mart Green, son of Hobby Lobby CEO, David Green, said in a statement that they intend to buy the 40-acre property in Garden Grove and lease it to King's University. The Van Nuys-based seminary will then have the right to sublease any or all of the property, Green said.

King's University, a Bible college and seminary, is led by Chancellor Jack Hayford, founder of The Church On The Way in Van Nuys.

An interesting story regarding Jack Hayford comes from 1993 when he backed a speaker at his church in Van Nuys who had a novel theory as to what caused the downturn in Japan's markets at that time:

Footage from a 1993 video shows Hayford enthusiastically introducing and endorsing a talk during which his colleague C. Peter Wagner claimed that the early 1990's economic downturn of the Japanese economy was due to what Wagner depicted as a Shinto ritual in which Japanese emperors have sexual intercourse with a demonic sky-goddess being that, posited Wagner, may have been a succubus. Wagner blamed slack Japanese stock prices on the alleged tryst.

Sure, why not?  Wouldn'y Hayford, being in Van Nuys - long seen as the capital of the American porn industry - for years possibly know a thing or two about succubi.

And is Hobby Lobby's interest purely altruistic?  I doubt it.  Hobby Lobby only entered the California market in 2010 and just this past July 2011 announced the opening of stores 2, 3, and 4.  And not simple storefronts, either.

The three new stores, firsts to their respective markets, include a 76,211-square-foot location in Temecula, a 76,248-square-foot location in Roseville and a 74,991-square-foot location in Rancho Cucamonga. The stores are projected to open fall 2011.   

Nothing like buying advertisement from the pulpit. 

A Tale of Two Bishops

Bishop Stika interacting with the children at Mass

As I mentioned in my previous post, yesterday I met Bishop Richard Stika when he came to my son's school, St. Joseph, to say Mass for the children.  If Catholic bishops should be held accountable to their flock, I do not think I am remiss in stting down some of my observations regarding Bishop Stika and Bishop Tod Brown, of the Diocese of Orange, who was my former bishop.  My one-time encounter with Bishop Stika was so remarkably different than my previous ones with Brown.

Let me begin by saying when I left California in June, I had been a parishioner at St. Joseph Church in Santa Ana for 15 years.  During that time, I can only recall one time Bishop Brown graced us with his presence.  It was in November 2005 at the installation Mass for our pastor, Fr. John Moneypenny.  I was one of the Lectors and was waiting, along with the other liturgical ministers, in the Sacristy with our parochial vicar at the time, Fr. Michael St. Paul.  The Bishop remained sequestered in the rectory, with his secretary popping in and out of the sacristry to warn us that the bishop had certain expectations of the Mass that had to be met, including starting on time and making sure there was nothing to make it go wrong.  His Grace finally emerged a couple of minutes before the Mass was to begin.  At that point, Fr. Michael suggested we join hands for a quick prayer - what, less than 30 seconds? - as was our tradition at St. Joseph.  Bishop Brown fair snapped off his head - "We don't have time for that now, let's go!" and he brusquely headed out.  As for us lay ministers, he did not even acknowledge us, not even to say hello.  I have been at liturgies presided by Brown since then - it is rare he proclaims the Gospel and rarer still that he gives the Homily.  What he does seem to bring to the Mass is the feeling he has better things to do than to be there. The one time I heard him bring any sense of personality to a sermon was when he gave the eulogy for Bishop McFarland, and even then, I could not help but think he was looking over the packed house, wondering how many people would show up for his funeral.

My next personal meeting with Bishop Brown occurred in 2010 at a stewardship conference in San Diego.  After the sessions were done for the day, a group of us from the parish planned to head out for dinner, but before we could, we had to at least show up for a drink at the cocktail reception that Bishop Brown was hosting for the people from his diocese.  Fair enough - we grabbed a glass of wine and a table, and waited for the bishop to make his rounds.  When he got to our table, Fr. John stood to introduce Brown to me and another woman.  Before he could even say a word, Brown looked at me, did a sharp uplift of his chin in "greeting", did the same to the other woman, and wordlessly moved on.  Later whe he said, "I've met all of you in the room tonight," I was sore tempted to yell out, "No, no, you didn't!"
Last year my daughter was chosen as St. Joseph's Altar Server of the Year, so I went to the special Mass so she could get her recognition.  I purposely positioned myself at the end of an aisle, camera in hand, and as Brown passed, I said to him, "T-Dawg . . . wassup?" and returned the chin salute.  I snapped this picture from my waist as I did so.

Childish of me?  Yes, I suppose so.  I had thought about sending him a letter to inform him that in the Hispanic culture - the other woman who received his flippant greeting was Mexican-American and was very offended - his "chin salute" is considered vulgar . . . but why?  I don't think it would have helped.  After the Mass for the altar servers he posed for pictures with the children, occasionally putting on a tight, thin smile, but mostly remaining grim and certainly not making any conversation with the families.  I asked my daughter if she wanted to get her picture taken with Brown.  She looked over at him and said, Nah . . . let's go grab some lunch."

I know of several occasions when his priests have been side-swiped by some of his actions and more than one have felt the discomfort of running afoul of Brown's expectations - previously communicated by him or not - but discretion precludes me from mentioning them here. 

Of course, my exeprience with Bishop Stika so far has been just this one time.  But . . .

(1)  He came to a school to say Mass for the children.

(2)  In his sermon - which he gave - Bishop Stika interacted with the kids, and was pleasant and light-hearted.

(3)  He didn't run off afterwards, but stayed to bless the new Stations of the Cross.  He didn't seem hurried.  He continued talking to parents, staff and students all the while.

(4)  He was having a great time joking with some kinergarten students.  "Let's see if I have this right - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7 . . ."  One little boy took it seriously - "NO!  You forgot 6!!"  "Oh, okay - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8 . . ."  "BISHOP!  Now you forgot 7!!!"  "Wow, maybe I need to come back and study with you guys!"  The rest of the kindesr were giggling away.

(5)  When I introduced myself, he took the time to focus one me and engage in conversation, and not simply look past me (see posting below).

(6)  I was taking a group shot and one young nun stood off to the side.  I asked her if she wanted to be in the picture, and she said no, as she was "just a guest."  Bishop Stika heard her and said, "She's no guest!  Hey, that young lady just took her final vows and became a real nun,   C'mon, sister, come get in the picture with us!"  She smiled and said, "well, if the Bishop says so . . ." and Bishop Stika just laughed merrily.

Things bode well for my spiritual life in the Diocese of Knoxville.

What Do Robert Schuller and Thomas Kinkade, Painter of Light™, Have in Common?

Royalties, evidently.

Yesterday, I had the very good fortune to spend a few moments speaking with Bishop Richard Stika, who oversees the Diocese of Knoxville.  When I mentioned that my family and I had just moved from the Diocese of Orange in California, he laughed and asked, "What is up with that Crystal Cathedral sale - Bishop Brown has $53 million cash to offer?!"  I told him that right now Brown was the front runner, but expect Hobby Lobby to make another bid to get the cathedral for Rick Warren, because the Protestants do not want to see the Catholics in that building.

Then he told me a story.  "I met Rev. Schuller once," he said.  "I told him that on occasion I would watch his "Hour of Power" program.  He was at first happy to hear that, but then I added I watched it to get ideas as to how to spread the Gospel." 

Bishop Stika chuckled and said, "When he heard that, he stopped smiling, looked at me and said, 'All my stuff is copyrighted.'"

Le Roi Est Mort

I just read that revolution is rampant in the fast food world - Burger King is forcibly abdicating its mascot, that creepy looking carnival fun  house king.  I think this is a good thing . . . I mean, he's no Jack.  Jack has got personality and wit and can evince a far wider range of emotions on his face.  He's urbane, sophisticated, yet down-to-earth.  He's the guy you want coaching your son's Little League, yet the man you would follow into battle.

But . . . I have to admit, the commercials depicting intimate moments with his wife - and the fact that they have children - are disturbing.

(Yes, I make Dennis Miller-esque esoteric references, like the speech balloon above.  Bonus points if (a) you can translate it, and (b) identify the historical reference)

No Shit, Really?!

From the Associated Press:

A monk who set himself on fire in an ethnically Tibetan region of western China has been cremated.

Well, at least he quit smoking . . .

Best of the Web from the WSJ

The Journal is on a roll and slaying me - go and read and be enlightened, if not tickled.

Fear and Loathing on Sesame Street

This picture is epic!  If anyone knows who the artist is, please let me know so I can give them due respect.

You hada see it . . .

According to Jose Maldonado, he was in the fields of Guadalajara, looking for guavas to chuck at his friends (no, I don't know why, but it is part of his story), when he found a freakin' fairy!

No, no hay un joto - una hada - Jose claims he found and captured a fairy. Como Tinkerbell.  He said he even ripped off her leg when he tried to stand her up.  And he is taking a "voluntary" donation from people lining up to see the corpse of the fairy in a little jar of morfon (I think it's formaldehyde).  The line is out the door and down the street.

Okay, I watched the video.  I have some questions:

1.  Why is the fairy White?  I mean, even the Virgin Mary appeared to St. Juan Diego as una mestiza, having the physical appearance of the local people in the area.  So, why wouldn't a Mexican fairy look, well, Mexican?

2.  Why is she wearing Tinkerbell's clothes and sporting Tinkerbell's hairstyle?  Bitch is a poser, I tell you . . .

3.  If he tore her leg off, how did he manage to reattach it seamlessly?

4.  A fairy godmother?  How did he even know she was Catholic?

5.  How much does the local government spend on schooling in that town?

6.  Why is this on the news if only to show people can be idiots?

7.  And when is he going to throw it off the bridge?  I'm guessing when no one shows up any more with pesos in hand to see it.

See, this is why we can't have nice things . . .

But Phish follower Woody Boese wonders whether the decision to shut off two water features flanking the municipal center while Phish performs three shows next door at Dick's Sporting Goods Park is aimed at fans of Phish.

Commerce City Mayor Paul Natale said Wednesday the move is just a precaution. The city isn't worried that Phishheads will use the fountains to bathe in or cool off during their stay over Labor Day weekend, he said.

"It's not because we think Phish followers are not the best of people," Natale said. "But we just want to avoid a challenge that may or may not come up. We are more concerned about what may be placed in the fountains."

Yeah . . . like themselves.  Or some random DNA sample delivered via bodily emission.

Coincidentally, today is the 42nd anniversary of the closing day at Woodstock. 

Random thoughts about dead people on my Christmas tree and why be limited in historical disasters for family fun . . .

The woman of the couple from whom we brought this house was an avid catalog recipient, mostly of "home decor" in a style I will call "country kitchen."  You know, the geese, the gingham, the godawful tea cozies . . . and the glurge.  Glurge is the overly entimental stuff, designed to bring you to tears of joy upon viewing.  As an example, we all need a sign saying "Back Door Guests Are Best" although that may take another meaning if you happen to be having an affair with your pool boy.

(I'm not.  In fact, one of the jokes I have with my husband is that I tell him I am boffing Miguel the Pool Boy and he gets excited and asks, "We have a pool?!")

I feel sorry for Jesus - He gets dragged into a lot of this.   You know when you see one set of foootprints along the sand, that's either when He carried you or you decided to grab a piggyback ride.  However, one thing I don't cotton to is putting dead people on my Christmas tree via the Memorial Christmas Ornament.

I will warn you now - if I see this on your Christmas tree, I will ask "How do you know your Granny is in Heaven?"  In the aforementioned catalogs, there is a host of Memorial Christmas Ornaments, some featuring a place to put a picture of the smiling loved one (or unsmiling - Daddy was always a sum'bitch, warn't he?)  and even those designed for deceased pets, allowing you to turn your Christams tree into a sort of Stephen King Pet Semetary, with Fuffy, Mr. Winkles, Snowball, and Duchess joining you for the holidays.

An aside:  the catalog also featured a "memorial garden stake" that allows you to hang a picture of your departed beloved with "In Memoriam" on the frame in your day lilies or compost pile.  I wish I had seen that when my mother was alive.  I would have purchased one and stuck it out in the backyard with her picture, just to see how long it would take her to notice it.  I'd know when I'd hear her come in, sayng, yer bastard, ya think you're funny don't you?  Then she'd replace the picture with one of her friends and go sneak it into their yard.)

Mind you, I like a lot of dead people - I just give them their due on Dia de los Muertos for All Saints/All Souls Day, and not as ornaments on my tree.  Christmas, as we all know - especially if you watch The Real Housewives of New Jersey and listen to Melissa "The Only Difference Between Me and Snooki is the Bank Account" Gorga - is for Baby Jesus.  And you don't put Baby in a corner for the sake of Great-Aunt Lottie who may, just may, be roasting in Hell.

Now onto disasters . . .

While driving along I-40, I noticed a billboard for an attraction in Pigeon Forge called "TITANIC:  A Family Experience."  Yeah, doggy, I suppose it was for Mr. and Mrs, Levi Strauss, who lay in each other's arms while their cabin filled with frigid sea water.  It just struck me as odd - who green lit the idea to take a disaster that claimed some 1,800 lives and turn it into a fun-filled day for families, with its slogan "Outside is Just the Tip of the Iceberg!"

No, I want mine hard core.  Why not take something bigger and make that a family attraction . . . like the Jonestown Massacre in Guyana, for example.  Maybe work up a pitch like, "There's More Inside!" where tourists can move along tents with interactive displays, to include, "Mix Up Some Fun at Our Drink Bar!"  I notice the Titanic attraction has a notice:  "Moms Blog, Now Boarding!" where mothers can post links to their blogs that describe the vist they had with their families - same thing, only maybe "Moms Blog, Now Pouring!" where moms can share their experiences and recipes with other moms who have visited the attraction "Jonestown: Jungle Safari." 

I'm gonna need a lot of dummies for this one . . .

In the Next Revolution, We Guillotine the Bureaucrats First

I figured out what can trigger me into a complete rage meltdown:  bureaucratic pedantry.

Pedantry:  the acts and behavior of a pedant, who is someone excessively concerned with formalism and precision.

Today I had to deal with the local utility, which is Knoxville Utility Board, aka "KUB."  Without going into detail, they would not accept a bank error as the excuse for something, insisting that I obtain a letter from my bank "admitting that the mistake was on their side."  I asked if they also wanted a letter from the bank's mother, saying that they have been a naughty, naughty boy, but they didn't seem to recognize the sarcasm.  "No, ma'am, that other letter will be enough."

Here is my advice to "customer service" representatives of monopolies, such as local utility companies:  just admit at the start of a conversation with a customer that you have no decision-making authority and all you can do is spout company policy - delivered in an agonizingly polite patronizing tone, as per your training.  I mean, if you admit, "Look, I'm just a trained monkey in a giant call room and all I am going to do is ask for documentation that absolves anyone from making a decision and that I will just forward on to another department," then our 15-minute conversation will be cut short by, oooh, say, 14 minutes and 30 seconds. 

But if you continue to state firmly, "Our policy is . . ." in a spinster teacher's voice as if I am a recalitrant truant, and only after 14 minutes and 30 seconds tell me that I have to produce some documentation, I promise you, in the next Reign of Terror . . . you will be first.  I will sit and cackle while knitting furiously, as your heads roll and the crowds cheer.  I speak fairly decent French, cul, and I will be crying, "Au mort!" as the blood runs through the streets and I will click mes sabots en dansent at your downfall.

True fact:  my dearest friend, the Countess, is exactly that - she is a Hapsburg by birth and is still pissed at the death our her dear distant aunt, Marie-Anotinette.  A true Conservative, she will be beside me, en faisant du tricot and laughing.

Further* Into Deep Shit

You can’t just make money on SUVs and trucks,” Obama said during a town hall forum in Cannon Falls, Minn. “There is a place for SUVs and trucks, but as gas prices keep on going up, you have got to understand the market. People are going to try to save money.”

Meanwhile, on the road . . .

And guess what?

President Obama is barnstorming the heartland to boost US jobs in a taxpayer-financed luxury bus the government had custom built -- in Canada . . .

* "Further" was the name given to a psychedelic-painted 1939 International Harvester school bus that author Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters - a bunch of druged out, hippy cling-ons that followed him across the country with the promise of sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll - used to drive across country. Read Tom Wolfe's The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test for more information.

Suggestion for Improvement of the Economy

Just tax the stupid people.

Bull Sheet in the Golden State

This story had caught my eye not too long ago, but glancing at it, I thought it was a joke.  But it isn't.

California legislators will consider a bill . . . to outlaw flat sheets.  You know, non-fitted sheets that are handy for making a bed but a bitch to fold?  Evidently, hospital corners are an OSHA violation.

BILL NUMBER: SB 432

An act to add Section 6714 to the Labor Code, relating to workplace safety.

SECTION 1.  Section 6714 is added to the Labor Code, to read:
   6714.  (a) The standards board shall, no later than September 1, 2012, adopt an occupational safety and health standard for lodging establishment housekeeping. The standard shall apply to all hotels, motels, and other lodging establishments in California. The standard shall require all of the following:

   (1) The use of a fitted sheet, instead of a flat sheet, as the bottom sheet on all beds within the lodging establishment. For the purpose of this section, a "fitted sheet" means a bed sheet containing elastic or similar material sewn into each of the four corners that allows the sheet to stay in place over the mattress.

2) The use of long-handled tools such as mops or similar devices in order to eliminate the practice by housekeepers of working in a stooped, kneeling, or squatting position in order to clean bathroom floors, walls, tubs, toilets, and other bathroom surfaces.

Let's ignore the fact that California is facing a $26 billion deficit.  Maybe that will be made up by the extra work that hotels will need to strip all those beds of offending sheets.

Two things make me laugh:

(1) Since when is making a bed or cleaning a toilet an occupational hazard requiring regulation?  Because thee activities are not limited to hotels.  It's called housecleaning, an activity that has been going on for quite a while.  In fact, some of these activities . . . I make my children do.  Jesus, call protective services now and take them from me.  Maybe a foster care home will it the definition of a "lodging establishment" and the Digi Spawn will get long-handled brushes to swab out their shit jars there.

(2) Given my experinece at housecleaning, certain jobs just require a little extra effort.  Like cleaning bathrooms where, based upon the quality of the guests, the area can become contaminated by blood, feces, sperm, urine, or vomit.  It's a matter of physics - you really can't scrub with a long-handled mop standing upright.  So I am guessing that this will lead to somehwat cursory cleaning of some disgusting residue.  You might want to consider bringing your own amenities when checkin into a California hotel . . . or skip the state all together once typhus or cholora break out.

And - this bill makes it a crime to be non-compliant.  It used to be a business establishment ust had to worry about a shakedown from a sleazy Prop 65 lawyer, threatening lawsuit if a bathroom mirror was hung two centimeters lower than state regulation.  Now it's the lawsuit and havin to hire a criminal defense lawyer to convince a jury that as a child you had to sleep on only cheap 150-count sheets and this led to diminished capacity due to the trauma.  I note the bill does not state whether an infraction will be a misdemeanor or a felony, but given the fact that hotel housekeeping staffs are manned largely by minority groups, I have to wonder if some nimrod in Sacramento is thinking this could be classified as a hate crime.

You would think this state's legislators would have better things to do - did I mention the $26 billion deficit the state is facing? - than spend time debating legislation like this.  Bet it passes.