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Farm sluts

No, it isn’t porn. But it’s damn funny and you should be able to watch it at work without putting your job in peril. Check out this video. You’ll need Quicktime, sound and about 20 minutes to see it, but it’s worthwhile.

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Another Holy Cow: Killer Monkeys, Talking Dogs, and the Artichoke with a Heart of Gold

Having just turned 36, I’ve identified two serious differences between me and David Berkowitz, the infamous Son of Sam. One big difference is that I’m not a serial killer (of humans), and the second is that while I routinely have long, meaningful conversations with my dog (among others), she doesn’t talk back. This arrangement suits me fine. The Gender-Neutral Transcendence of the Universe Which Binds All Living Things in Its All-Encompassing If Somewhat Impersonal Oneness [that would be “God” for you rubes]–er, God knows what kinds of shenanigans these mischievous critters might force me into if I gave them audience. Besides, I’d rather give orders than take them. Better to think for yourself.

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It’s time for summer camp …

Well, Chris, after long and sometimes heated discussions, your mother and I have decided to ship you off to a nice secular humanist summer camp in the Smokies. Maybe that will straighten you out. God knows, we haven’t been able to.

Which gets me waxing nostalgic (I do that a lot, don’t I?)

I remember my one brush with summer camp — Camp Rosary. A nice Catholic retreat somewhere out in the woods of Pennsylvania. My brother Steve and I were loaded on a bus and whisked away from home for the first extended time in our young lives. I still have vivid memories of that place. Raiding other cabins. Sack races. The canteen where we bought snacks. The spiffy Jesus crafts. And these strange women who played folk tunes around the campfire each night. I remember them playing “Leaving on a Jetplane” over and over and over …

It was only toward the end of camp that we found out these women were nuns. They sure didn’t act like the sinister Sister Mary Lucille of St. Anselm Grade School fame. They seemed, well, normal. Even hippiefied, in a nice, safe Catholic kinda way. More Vatican II fallout, I guess.