"Ex-Massage Therapist's Rampage" Is Now a Phrase on the Books

Thanks, MSNBC, for making that happen.

And thank you more, ex-massage therapist who went on a gun rampage at a school board meeting in Panama City, FL, for failing to hit anyone you shot at--which otherwise would have made the phrase "ex-massage therapist's rampage" not so funny.

Thank you less for eventually taking your own life--which is never funny.

Nice save, "Today Show"! You felt the need to point out that the graffiti that the ex-massage therapist spray-painted on the wall before going on his unsuccessful gun rampage maybe referenced a Natalie Portman movie that nobody saw, thereby pulling an ultimately sad act closer back towards the realm of stupid.

(As for the lady who weakly hit the guy with her purse somewhere in the middle...God bless Florida and to all a Merry Christmas.)

John Furia, Jr. - 1929-2009

In terms of modern celebrity, there are two kinds of artists: those of widespread fame and those who are subjectively famous, known primarily to students of their particular field and/or work.

Screen and television writer John Furia, Jr., who passed away on Friday, falls firmly into the "subjective celebrity" category for me. Had I not the privilege to know the man personally as well as to be taught by him, it's likely that I wouldn't know his name.

But I did, so I do...and I will remain forever grateful.

Here's to you, Professor Furia.

Reading Comprehension Begins at the Stable

It's been two days since 50-1 longshot Mine That Bird stunned gamblers, hicks and rich hicks alike by winning the Kentucky Derby, and I have yet to solve the mystery of the gelding's seemingly misspelled name beyond the discovery that it is a combination of his sire's name, Birdstone, and his dam's, Mining My Own (I've also learned that "sire", "dam" and "gelding" are fancy horse-talk names for "dad horse", "mom horse" and "horse with his nuts chopped off", respectively).

Optimistically, I hope that whoever named Mining My Own was a miner. Realistically, I am concerned that the person responsible meant to name the horse "Minding My Own" but spelled it wrong. If the latter scenario is accurate, not only did/has that dam live(d) her whole fool life oblivious to her egregiously misspelled handle, the error was passed down to her foal ("baby horse")--compounded, even, by the opportunity missed in the adjustment from the present participle to the present verb form.

Unless his dam's owner wasn't an excavation enthusiast and his current owner is (which would be one hell of a lucky coincidence), Mine That Bird is setting a terrible example for young horses everywhere by furthering the delusive notion that if you're good at sports, your education doesn't matter. He is in effect the Kobe Bryant of horses (save for the raping, of which MTB is incapable for reasons mentioned previously).

Then again, perhaps Mine That Bird isn't solely to blame. After all, he is a horse and therefore might have--in comparison to the humans around him--no idea as to where is or what he's doing or what the hell is happening at any time, ever; if that is the case, I'm glad that dumb sonuvadam has his wealth to rely on. (The horses get most of the money earned from their races, right? Because horse racing is a "sport" and they--like Floyd Mayweather Jr. in boxing and Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s car in car racing--are the essential participants? Maybe I'll look that up, too.)

Kansas First State to Achieve Time Travel; Joins Rest of Country in 21st Century

Dorothy's not in Kansas anymore, and neither is God.

At least he's no longer superseding science in the state's classrooms, anyway, as the Kansas Board of Education has finally--after being the laughing stock of the country for refusing to move their thinking out of the Dark Ages for, well, pretty much ever--approved new evolution-oriented science standards for the state's public schools ("new" being relative to Kansas, as most people with the capacity for thought and reason have been on board the evolution train for the past century-and-a-half or so, going back to when Charles Darwin published The Origin of Species). The curriculum will replace the most recent ass-backwards mode of belief that had been officially sanctioned by the board--the "intelligent design" theory that was put into practice in 2005 (and is, contrary to its name, most stringently maintained by morons...like our president).

So congratulations, Kansas, and welcome to the future.

(By the way...God is going to be so pissed at you guys. When the Rapture comes next week, you're totally not invited! Suckers!)

Teacher to Fight Pornography Conviction Using "I Don't Know Nothin' 'Bout No Computer Machines" Defense

In October of 2004, substitute teacher Julie Amero was assigned to a class of seventh-graders at Kelly Middle School in Norwich, Connecticut. Last month, she was convicted of exposing those students to pornography on her classroom computer, and today she is facing a possible 40-year prison sentence. (Tell that to someone who thinks that a career in education doesn't lead anywhere.)

Amero's excuse? She's practically a Luddite. The 40-year-old Windham resident with no prior criminal record is maintaining her contention from the trial that pornographic images kept popping up on the computer throughout the day in question, and--despite her most valiant efforts--her lack of technological savvy rendered her incapable of quelling the barrage of hardcore sex before it could befoul the once-pure souls of the children in her keep.

I have little trouble believing that an inexperienced computer user could fall victim to a pop-up storm, particularly if the machine in question was lacking in a firewall or any kind of spyware protection (as a computer consultant who testified in the trial confirmed that it was)...but I'm compelled to side with the jury on the fact that one very suspicious question remains:

Why didn't Amero throw a blanket over the computer or just unplug the damn thing?

A possible answer to that question? The woman is way into porn and likes sharing it with 12-year-olds.

Of course, I'm no lawyer.

UPDATE: Perhaps Amero could count on a Christmas miracle to get her out of trouble, seeing as she's married to Santa Claus.