My jaw has been dropped so much in the past 24 hrs., I think the flies got in and are using my tongue as a bounce house.

I can only hope the following things I saw or heard were figments of my overly crummy imagination.

Exhibit A. Last night, on The History Channel, there was a program about cults. It covered everything from the cults of Isis and Dionysus to Christianity (yes, Christianity - apparently, most religions start out as cults) to the Shakers (who, as they did not believe in sex, mostly died out, but left us some really nice furniture) up to Jim Jones and the People's Temple, the Branch Davidians, and those Heaven's Gate guys with the tennis shoes.

One historian said, "cult is our word for a religion we do not like." Nice. However, they did not cover Scientology. WTF?! Those blue paint-huffing muthas are getting their creepy-assed tentacles into everything; they own an alarming percentage of the real estate in Hollywood. So where's the poop, History Channel? Were you bought off? Or was this thing just horrendously out-of-date? Didn't you watch South Park last week?! Jeez.

Exhibit B. I heard Christmas music. This morning. On the radio. Please, people. Let us at least choke down our damned Tofurkey and that nasty green bean French onion thing before we have to start thinking about dropping an entire paycheck or more on holiday crap. If I hadn't already done it last year, I would be severely tempted to sit this one out. (Isn't it weird how, when you're a kid? You can't wait for this shit to come, but as an adult? It's...aw, crap. Is it December? I need to pay my g.d. bills.) Eh. Anyway, it was a country music station that...uh, the cats were listening to...yeah. So the hell were they doing playing George Michael of Wham! (which is what I wanted to do when I heard it)'s "Last Christmas?!" Oh, well. I guess it is L.A. Even our country stations uh...swing.

Exhibit C. Fifty Cent, no, Fi'ty, no, 50 Cent - on Good Day L.A. this morning (again, it was the cats who were watching FOX, not me) compared himself to The Beatles. Nigga, please. (Notice I'm not calling him a n*gger.) Nigga, c'mooooon. "In da club, bottle full of bub" is hardly classic material. At least, I hope not. And I'd like to see you bust out an actual instrument and actually sing something, Thuggy McThuggerson.

Anyway, it was funny because he was being interviewed by the self-proclaimed "whitest people on Earth" and getting seriously pissed off because they weren't discussing his "music" and kept repeating, "you've been shot NINE TIMES?!!!"

But I'm sure he's a very nice individual, and that all that violence had nothing to do with him, personally.

I am old, and am going to listen to "Achy Breaky Fart" in my rocking chair and eat some Velveeta and crackers now. Then I'll turn off the radio and form a cult called You Can't Shoot People*. Ism.

*unless they are assholes.