RUNNING With BLOOD

"When weapons are allowed back on board an aircraft, the pilots will be able to land the plane safety but the aisles will be running with blood."

You know, I'm a fan of gratuitous hyperbole - ask my boss! - but this is insane. Five years ago, I regularly carried sewing scissors on the plane, as well as a small screwdriver set for my glasses. The aisles did not run with blood, although I do confess to running with scissors in the terminal a time or two. This was back when I was still smoking a pack a day, so in addition to scissors, I was also usually carrying today's most dangerous piece of air travel contraband, a cheap plastic lighter. My god, I was a terrorist incident just WAITING TO HAPPEN.

Have we really come to this? Has our collective attention span grown so short that we can't even remember five measly years ago, when everyone had scissors, cigarette lighters, and tweezers in their overnight bags and no one ever died from any of the above?

And as a side note - how come, in the modern age when we're hardly allowed to carry anything useful on the plane, the "carryons" have gotten to be the size of steamer trunks?

Ratzinger Style

He dumped the tailor whose company had been doing cassocks since 1792.

SEVENTEEN NINETY TWO.

It's been a crazy few months. My parents were living with me and Guy #1. We bought our house FROM the parents, and that adventure was complete only when the King of the Last Minute Surprises dumped a twelve thousand dollar surprise on me two days before closing. But the close quarters really ruined my desire to write anything, really. One does not comfortably bitch about people on a blog when the targets of one's ire are standing behind the computer; one does not try to write stories when one is interrupted every three seconds by screeching, wailing, and chaos; and one most certainly does not try to write porn when one's mommy is standing right there asking what's so funny about trains and the pulling thereof.