For the past two days MSNBC has been reporting that a side effect of the Pfizer drug Viagra can cause blindness in some men. There have been no specifics on how many men who took Viagra lost their sight. Pfizer is trying to minimize the risk, and the FDA is talking about labeling Viagra with a new warning concerning this side effect.

One doctor who was interviewed for this story said there's no need for men to go rushing off to their doctors about this announcement. He says the risk of this side effect is very rare. This is according to information released by Pfizer. Yeah, they'll be objective. Remember Vioxx? Figures were just released for how much they could end up owing in claims from people affected by that drug. It's in the billions of dollars.

Another doctor interviewed about Viagra and the blindness it can cause got down to some serious facts. He reported that what Viagra does is damage the optic nerve to the extent that sight is gone permanently. There's no reversal possible.

Because I'm crass and have a sick sense of humor, my first thought was that old joke with the punch line, "Can I do it just until I need glasses?" Who knew that masturbation wasn't the problem. It's the pill that enables erections, and glasses are not an option.

But, of course, this is not a laughing matter. There are too many drugs on the market right now and more will be coming that have horrendous warnings. I listen to commercials on television for pills to alleviate ED or pills to control urinary dribbing or even for Osteoporosis, and I wonder how people can feel confident or secure about taking these drugs. Even though they may need them.

Apparently there were some people uncomfortable with my characterization of The Momster as she pertains to Mother's Day Cards. I'm really happy for those people who have June Cleaver mothers, I really am. But grow up, people. Not everyone has that vision of maternal unconditional love. Some of us have been raised by vicious snarling Pit Bulls.

I'm sure there's plenty of psychological reasons why someone who is a parent hates her offspring. Speaking from my side of the equation, I don't care what any of those reasons are. While I was dodging hammers and strangulation; while I was wearing evidence of the latest unleashing of The Momster's rage at God only knew what because I sure didn't, I was a little too preoccupied with something called survival to be too terribly concerned about whether The Momster's potty training went well.

Still, I did try to be a good daughter. I got horribly mixed messages about what "good" meant, and that definition could change like the daily exchange of underwear. But I tried. And you know, Leo definitely got it right... nice guys do finish last. At this point my relationship with The Momster would have to pour on the speed just to catch last.

I'm not going to go dragging out all the family dirty linen. Lord knows there's enough material there for another whole journal. Suffice it to say that one can have all the sympathy in the world for someone who displays signs of uncontrollable rage, vindictive get-even schemes that have no basis in logic, and irrationally abusive behavior toward others. We can wonder how on earth someone was molded into such a contorted version of a human being. However, there does come a time when that miserable excuse for a person is accountable for what she does. We do make choices about how we live our lives. We don't have to be Momsters.

When I wrote the entry about Mother's Day Cards, I was involved in one of those waiting-for-the-other-shoe-to-drop situations with my Momster. I had tried, again, to hold out the hand of good will to her. I pulled back a bloody stump. Since Mother's Day she has finally shown her hand, and I am still feeling the impact of what she did to me this time. This time she's really fucking with my survival. Yes, I know just how overly dramatic that sounds. Well what do you call cutting off someone's prescription drug supply -- the medications that keep her alive -- on a whim? Because that's what the Momster has decided to do. She's held her usual court and decided, as she did with my father and my brother before me, that we just don't deserve to live in the same world she does.

I'm glad there are June Cleaver and Harriet Nelson moms out there. Women who nuture their children and love them and consider the child's welfare above their own. The fact of the matter is that I don't know what that's like. Never have, never will. At least I acknowledge that mother love is possible. All I wanted to do was point out that for some of us there's an out-to-lunch sign where that elusive loving maternal presence should have been. 

Well, here we are. It's that time of the year again, and I'm thoroughly pissed off with Hallmark. Every year I search and search, and every year I come up empty. What is so difficult about coming up with a Happy Mother's Day You Old Bat card?

I understand that the majority of people want to pay homage to the person who gave them birth. I get it that most people want to shower Mom with flowers and candy and mushy cards that say I just love you to bits for being such a wonderful person and putting up with little ol' me. But there is a segment of the population, albeit possibly a small one, who have mothers who just did not happen to be hungry at the time of their birth because otherwise sweet old mom would have eaten them. I fall into the latter category.

Every year for Mother's Day I go to the card store and diligently look for an appropriate card to send The Momster. There aren't any. Not appropriate ones. I want a card that says...

"To The Momster In My Life...

Roses are Red

Violets Are Blue

Vinegar Is Sour,

And so, thanks to your incessant nitpicking, whining, belittling, lying, never satisfied with a goddam thing  personality,

Are you."

Now if I could come up with something that fits the occasion off the top of my head, you'd think Hallmark could do much better given the time and people they've got to work on it. But no. Every year I look for a card and every year I find nothing suitable to send The Momster.

So I have to waste all that time looking through all those cards trying to find just one that has no mushy sentiment. Just one that doesn't say with flowery words and lovely pictures what a wonderful creature the woman is who was actually by an accident of nature merely my biological donor. I would rather cut my toenails with a chain saw than spend all that time sorting through the best Hallmark has to offer trying to find something suitable for my Momster. I refuse to knuckle under and fake it with something even remotely sweet.  Women have to fake enough stuff in this life; I draw the line at sentiment for the person my daughter calls "That Woman".

I finally found something that had to do. It's far from perfect, but I'd begun wearing out the carpet in front of the Mother's Day card section, so it was time to choose something.

On the outside it says: "having you for a mom is the main reason you'll never see me posing in some men's magazine.

The inside says, "Damn Family Hips".

It ain't vinegar, but it sure ain't sugar either.

My landlord died last January. 2 months later his wife died. The estate is being handled by their son. He looks exactly like Bob from Twin Peaks. For those not up on Twin Peaks trivia, Bob was the guy who killed Laura Palmer. He had long grey hair he wore pulled back into a pony tail, and he was a very scary dude. Bob is now my landlord. Bob's girlfriend is as scary as Bob. She looks like a trailer trash version of Elvira only with bigger hair. Bob and Elvira standing at my front door is enough to make me go crawl under the bed and refuse to come out again.

Bob is not very bright; however, he perfectly understood the attorney's suggestion to "liquidate the assets". Therefore, I have to move. Bob isn't rushing me or anything... or so he said, but no specific time limit was given for how long I have to vacate.

At one point Bob got the brilliant idea that he would buy this property from the estate, I could stay living here, and if I signed a year's lease, nothing would change. I haven't had a lease for 8 of the 10 years I live here, and I'm not signing one for a year now. See, Bob lives about 10 miles from here in another town, has no phone, and the only way I have of getting in touch with him is by sending him a letter OR buy a carrier pigeon. I don't think so. I'm looking for another place to live, and Bob has put this house on the market.

He chose a realtor by happenstance. He thought he remembered some girl from his graduating class (that would be graduation from high school which has to be about 25 years ago) who had become a realtor, so he got in touch with her and had her do the appraisal on this house. Her name is Jean, but she looks like some Barbie doll, and she talks about like you'd expect a Barbie doll to talk. So, I've gone from a nice quiet life to having to accomodate Bob, Elvira, and Barbie. I'm not having a very good time.

Barbie cannot remember my name. Well, she does, but she has assigned me a nickname no one ever calls me because I hate it. I used to answer to this name when someone took it upon themselves to assume it was okay to shorten my name to this derivitive, but I stopped doing that years ago. My name is my name, and it's what I want to be called. Tough shit if that makes someone else have a hissy fit. And plenty have. They get bent out of shape because I want to be called by my name. Go figure. Barbie insists on calling me the nickname she prefers. Things have become rather tense between Barbie and me first because of the name thing and secondly because Barbie has misrepresented how this house is to be sold. She has listed the property as an investment with long term tenants, hoping of course that a buyer will believe all that has to happen is some plunking down of money and voila, everything is taken care of. Buy the house; tenants are included. This is not the case since I'm not staying, and I've informed Barbie that if she misunderstood that, she'd better correct her listing. Barbie got huffy. So now when Barbie calls and insists upon using her name for me, I just call her Jane. Her name is really Jean. I figure if she can expect me to answer to something that isn't my name, I can have the same expectation of her. As for her listing, she refuses to change it.

Gov knows I like t-shirts, and he knows I like them bizarre. So one year he bought me a t-shirt that says "Fuck You, You Fucking Fuck". I laugh every time I look at that shirt, but I never had the guts to wear it outside the house or if I know someone may be stopping in. I've decided that every time someone comes to see this place with Barbie or any other realtor, I'm wearing my Fuck You, You Fucking Fuck t-shirt.  I may also decide to wear one of those cute aluminum foil hats the kids in Signs wore to ward off space invaders.

I haven't had much luck with home sellers either, but that's material for a different entry. It will be a great relief never to have to converse with Bob, Elvira or Barbie/Jane ever again.

This one is a no brainer. John Bolton's approval as Ambassador to the United Nations is being held up by the cratz and a few pubz in the Senate Foreign Relations Committee because: John Bolton allegedly yelled at some State Department people in the past. Whoaaaaaa!  And let me guess... these people ended up not feeling very good about themselves.

I say what better place to put John Bolton than right smack in the middle of the United Nations.  And instead of being a detriment to his approval, that alleged yelling thing should be the very reason why it's a no brainer to pass him with flying colors. There is no place that needs to be yelled at more than the United Nations. Further if we aren't going to pull out of that joke of an organization completely, which apparently we're not, then at least let's assign someone to represent us who has balls. Big Balls! And if John Bolton fits the the bill, then by all means HIRE HIM already!

Because I am a news junkie, I have listened to the non-stop coverage of pope john paul's illness, subsequent death, and the almost unbelievable polishing of his image that stretched on for weeks. I also patiently watched and listened to coverage of pope ratzi's election to the papacy and observed from across the pond his ascendency as Benedict 16. While news bunnies went on and on explaining why he chose that name and put a very positive spin on it, all I could think was how appropriate it was that he chose the name of a traitor. Because pope ratzi certainly has enough information in his background to fit the image of one who betrays.

For one thing, I believe this is the first time I have ever heard  excuses made for someone who belonged to a Nazi organization. Surely others who have been tied to Nazi groups, such as Arnold Schwarzenegger's father,  should be given the same  explanation for their service as pope ratzi received. Put that association back into the time frame in which it happened -- participation in such groups was expected. To do otherwise was to face a horribly uncertain future. But Arnold's father's association, no matter what explanation went with it, was ripped out the context of time and given a negative spin. It was supposed to be a contributing factor toward stopping Arnold's election as Governor of California. In pope ratzi's case, an association with Hitler's Youth was excused and given a positive spin. He may have had to be a member of that group, but boy, did he ever hate it. Yeah, right. The indoctrination that went with belonging to anything Nazi is completely overlooked before it is ultimately forgiven. If association with Nazis is bad for one, it's bad for all. But if it isn't, then why doesn't the excusing of such activity equally apply to all?  Only Spin Doctors have the answer to that one.

And then there is pope ratzi's service in Hitler's Army from which he defected. He defected.  Imagine, if you will, if such actions could have been pinned on George Bush during his service in the Texas  National Guard. It really doesn't take much of a stretch to imagine such a thing. Just ask Dan Ra^ther. The suggestion that George Bush did not fulfill his service requirement was used to prevent him from serving a second term as US President. It's considered a crime. But for pope ratzi we see abandoning his country as a valiant act. Anyone who suggests that this behavior puts his loyalty in serious question is quickly silenced. Because now he's a pope and popes only do popely things. Even when they don't. Even before they were elected pope.

And then there's the business of pope ratzi's reputation as cardinal and best friend of pope john paul 2. He's been tagged as The Enforcer and The Kneebreaker. Yeah, this is a kindly and benevolent man. This is someone to whom we could warm right  up. The people in his own country didn't agree with his selection as pope, but hey, what do they know? They're just the people from whom he chose to defect.

I'm not Catholic. It really makes no difference to me if that group of people want to ordain josef ratzi as pope or Mickey Mouse because I wouldn't pay attention to either one. But since my tv was hijacked to sing the praises of and deify the image of one pope and to get ready to canonize the image of another, I figure that gives me some say in the matter.

The hypocrisy in this papal nonsense is overwhelming. pope john paul the great, as he's now being called, held the papal office during the worst sexual scandal in religious history. He was aided and abetted by josef ratzi and men just like him. Who speaks for all those children? Sure, the ones who sued now have big bank accounts, but that doesn't give them the innocence of childhood back again. And further, as just another reminder that we don't speak of such nasty things in public, pope ratzi is installed to make sure that holy image doesn't get tarnished in the near future.

• I heard former Ambassador to the Vatican Ray Flynn say, "The Catholic church is rooted in truth and tradition." He also said, "This pope's election was inspired by divine intervention."

After I stopped laughing so hard, I wrote that down so I wouldn't forget what he actually said. The catholic church may be rooted in tradition, but truth????? Really???? Awwww, c'mon. Obviously Former Ambassador Flynn has not read  The DaVinci Code... but then that would be a sin for him, wouldn't it? That's another of those books the catholic church considers not suitable for public consumption. It does shatter a few myths. And we sure can't have that while pope ratzi is up there doing his best to make sure all those myths stay firmly intact.

As appalling as I found the picture the catholic church was projecting during the past weeks, I was equally appalled by the way the media slobbered and fawned all over it. Chris Jansing was in tears just describing the conclave's final vote. Chris Matthews nearly wet his pants at the majesty of it all.  It was enough to make me gag.

It has been pointed out to me that the behavior of a few should not tarnish the image of the whole group. That's a very simplistic way of looking at the lies and cover-ups and payoffs and intrigue and irresponsibility that exsits within the catholic church. And it certainly does not excuse the promotion to pope of a man who helped orchestrate the whole show. Just ask Bernard Law... he's in the Vatican now, you know. Doing masses in memory of the dead pope. Remember Bernard Law? He used to be in Boston. He was a child molestation enabler. Hell of a nice guy though. Just like pope ratzi.

I just heard John Altman, a state Representative from South Carolina, give a rather tortured explanation for why cockfighting will become a felony in South Caroline, but Criminal Domestic Abuse will not.

I don't know how long Representative John Altman has held his position, but if it's longer than the past 5 minutes then there is no excusing the statement he made that in South Carolina there are no loopholes in their laws. Puhleeeeeze. Laws are written so that someone can find a loophole to circumvent them. Everyone knows that. Except Representative Altman.

But wait... this gets better.

Keeping in mind that in South Carolina there are no loopholes in Domestic Abuse laws, that's why cockfighting will become a felony. Huh???? you may be saying to yourself while scratching your head in confusion.  Yeah, me too, but fortunately Rep Altman explained.

From Rep Altman's point of view, cockfighting is a heinous and unforgivable pastime.  Not only that but there are accomplices. So South Carolina had to strength its cockfighting laws, which apparently were just chock full of loopholes unlike the Domestic Abuse laws,  not only to catch the head of the cockfighting ring, but also manage to include those accomplices.  The proposed loopholeless cockfighting law will rid South Carolina of this scurge on humanity once and for all. And anyone who gives a fat rat's ass about cockfighting can now rest easier at night in South Carolina.

Tuesday Is Choose Day 

Would you rather:

Your ears be bleeding OR your eyes?   Definitely the ears. How am I supposed to do entries and read other blogs if my eyes are bleeding.  Besides, they don't make little drip cups for eyes - there's no place to hang them, but I could probably find drip buckets for ears, and there'd be a place to hang the darn things. So that's one's a no brainer. Definitely ears.

Smell like  vanilla cake frosting or fresh cut lime wedges?  Another no brainer since the aroma of  vanilla can get very nauseating after a while. Besides, the smell of vanilla cake frosting is sweet which would attract all kinds of bugs. There's nothing much worse than a bug swarm circling one's head. Or gnats. I hate it when a gnat attack hits. So definitely lime wedges. I don't think limes attract flies and ants, so no bug swarms. And no being nauseated either.

Get comments on your hair OR your smile?  Hmmmmm. Since I don't care all that much about my hair, it would have to be my smile. Not that I don't want my hair to look nice, and I do whatever I can to make sure that it does, but hair is a superficial thing to me. I'd rather someone notice my smile because it more accurately says something about me.

Have an addiction to coffee OR to bubble gum? Gotta be the coffee. I have never understood how people stand to chew those big wads of bubble gum. That hurts my teeth to have that huge lump of sticky stuff in my mouth. When I chew gum all, I only chew 1/4 of a piece because I don't want such a big glob of stuff in my mouth to talk around.  Besides, bubble gum doesn't really come in the excellent flavors coffee does. I love coconut coffee and pumpkin spice is to die for.  Yep! Gotta be the coffee.

So, we've got the White Smoke which indicates a new pope. Olbermann may not be happy about that since he just started a new segment on Countdown called Pope Conclave Puppet Theater. I was kind of looking forward to more installments, but there you  go.... Cardinals apparently have no sense of the ridiculous.

Except maybe they do.  The new pope is Cardinal Ratziner, a 78 year old German. The picture being aired of him on MSNBC shows the wild eyed stare of a demented Nazi wearing too much lipstick. Since earlier reports indicated that, in his youth, Ratzinger was indeed part of the Nazi party,  that photo does speak volumes.

One of the details mentioned about Ratzinger is that he was looking forward to retirement and a more quiet life of reflection with his books. Now that is not to be. C'mon. If the guy didn't really want to be pope, why was his name bandied about for weeks as a candidate. You mean he couldn't have modestly declined and stated the obvious -- that he's just a bit long in the tooth to be accepting a brand new job with enormous responsibility.

Ratzinger has indicated he will be known as pope Benedit XVI.  Those describing him more frequently use the term "caretaker" to describe what his papacy will represent. In other words, there will be few if any changes. No liberalism shall rear its ugly head while pope Ratzi is running things. We can only hope this if it ain't broke don't fix it mentality will not extend itself to the attitudes concerning child molestation.  Unfortunately there is little to indicate that we can count on that from the Catholic church as it currently conducts business.  Recently another huge monetary award was granted to another group of molested boys.  So it's business as usual and pope ratzi isn't expected to change any of that business.

Which makes me wonder why all those people in St Peter's Square are cheering. I find the constant attention and celebration of this papal selection ritual offensive since the organization being lauded here has far more in common with NAMBLA than it does with religion.

Frankly I think this new guy should have kept his own name as pope. It seems much more fitting to call him pope ratzi than it does to call him Benedict.

Tuesday Is Choose Day:

Would you rather:

have starr jones over for dinner OR mike tyson?  Definitely Star Jones. She's less scary,  is very interesting,  probably has better table manners, AND more than likely she prefers her meat to be from an animal AND cooked.

put cheez-whiz on everything you eat OR marshmallows? Cheez-Whiz because I eat a lot of veggies which go much better with Cheez-Whiz than they do with marshmallows, unless you're eating my former SIL's sweet potato marshmallow casserole which was usually burned and inedible.

hitchhike everywhere you go OR walk? Are you kidding? WALK!!! I saw Monster, and even though that guy on HBO's Hitchhiker was hot, he was also weird and so were the people who picked him up!

dress in lederhosen for a week OR nothing but a grass skirt and coconut bra? I think the lederhosen is a more practical choice because II have yet to see a coconut half that I could fill up (if you get my drift), I would think coconut shells would chafe, and I get itchy from grass.