Let's Go Here, And Here, But Not There.

First of all, wouldn't it be nice to have Madrid bans too-thin models from catwalk apply to your own self? Sigh. And not in an I've-had-a-dread-issue-or-disease way, either. In a "Yes, I eat lots of cheesey goodness and NEVER exercise," way.

Simply Lacey Sock part two is on the needles! I've not only got to, but past the part where I had to rip all out last Saturday. I'll do a lot to keep from undoing all I've done, but the mistakes were too much. The sock is going faster now, and I'm hoping to be finished before I started.

Where we don't want to boldy go.

The whole 9-11 thing makes me cranky. Of course it does, since so many innocents died, right? Sure, that's one reason. The main one, really. Another is Bin Laden is jumping up and down, going "Over here! Over here! I did it, I'm proud I did it and I'll do it again. Nyeh, nyeh, nyeh, you can't catch me!"

We've lost more people in Iraq, who had nothing to do with 9-11, than we did on that horrible one day. Sure, they had an evil dictator for a leader, one who listened in on their conversations, made decisions unilaterally, and imprisoned people without due process, but he was their leader. Since they couldn't elect him out of office, the ones who didn't want to live under his regime, who wanted to be ruled by America, are now called Iraqi-Americans. What did the 41000-46000 Iraqi casualties in the war specifically do against the US and Allies, again? Get in the way of profits, I guess.

They're not us, so we don't care, right? If they die, there's more for us.

See? We didn't want to go there. Sarcasm just doesn't translate well in the written word. If I'm wrong, by all means, don't let me live in ignorace. Comment away. Links lead to support of all statements. While my ass is cute, I don't like to talk out of it. Much.