That’s right. I’m so swamped with this rigorous schedule of daily barbecues at Cancerland (see that thin plume of smoke emanating from Austin on the Google World map? That’s me!), lounging at coffee-shops with Stingray, physical therapy for my assorted Bert-inflicted limps, and, as of today, a visiting mother, I’m reduced to posting teasers for the essays I’d write if I actually had the time.
For example, today I would really like to let loose on the St. Louis Schoolboy Sex Assault, which, you have heard by now, involved a dozen little boys “poking” an 8-year-old girl “who struggled to keep on her underwear.”
I just can’t imagine how these junior patriarchs learned how to gang-rape a girl.
Well, gotta run. See ya in the funny papers.