Screaming banshee Ann Coulter appeared on on Hardball with Chris Matthews and Elizabeth Edwards called in to ask Ann to stop the personal attacks on her family. Elizabeth was way more polite than I would have been (see my NC17 rating). After all, Coulter has called her husband a “faggot” and accused him of driving around with a bumper sticker that read “Ask me about my son’s death in a horrific car accident.” I would have torn Ann to pieces with my bare hands, but Elizabeth is way more classy than I am.

Here’s my favorite bit from Elizabeth:

I haven’t talked to John about this call. I’m making the call as a mother. I’m the mother of that boy who died. My children participate — these young people behind you are the age of my children. You’re asking them to participate in a dialogue that is based on hatefulness and ugliness instead of on the issues, and I don’t think that’s serving them or this country very well.

Video and a full transcript here

And just a few other reasons to love her:

Marriage Equality

Putting up with the awful interview style of Katie Couric when being grilled about breast cancer (funny thing is- Katie didn’t give up her job when her husband had colon cancer. Was she putting family first or her ambition?)

And rumor has it that she is way more on the ball with the internet stuff than her hubby (who says girls don’t like technology- puh-lease!)

The neighborhood I grew up in is on fire. Rumors are that the high school I went to burned down. The pond area where we used to sneak off to drink beer has been burned, so has the place where I once had a picnic and got more than a little frisky with my high school boyfriend, until we got chased off by a bear. I wonder if the bear escaped the fire. I wonder how long bears live, it’s been 15 years.

I remember one summer when I was a kid where we had fires burning all around the basin. The sky was pink and gray from smoke and everything smelled like a fireplace in winter because of all the burning pine. There was only one road out of the basin that wasn’t consumed by fire. This fire is worse.

People are being evacuated to the Rec Center. It’s weird to think that the place where I took swimming and ballet lessons is now housing a bunch of families whose houses have been turned to ash and cinder. It’s also weird to read about people running towards the Y, a shopping center at the south end of town where I worked for an entire two weeks as a waitress and realized I never wanted to be paid minimum wage to deal with other people’s food again. I thought that particular place was hell, the idea of people running towards it seems wrong in so many ways.

I hope the fire gets controlled soon, for the sake of the people and the bear.

Kid: Mom! I need scissors!

Me: Why?

Kid: Someone covered our dumpster in fliers to get people to join the military. I want to cut them down.

Me: Do you want scissors- or do you want a Sharpi so you can graffiti them?

Kid: Oh, I totally want the Sharpis.

Me: That’s my little agitprop-er!

A story came out Friday that a girl at Rainier Beach High had been sexually assaulted by another student during school hours and the school neglected to contact the police.

Instead, the rapist boy and the boy who played lookout each got 3 day suspensions.

Huhm, so now the going punishment for sexual assault is not jail time, but school suspension.

“There are things that are in place for discipline,” said Gary, “The situation was investigated and dealt with.” (That would be Robert Gary Jr., the principal at Rainier Beach).

Someone needs to remind Mr. Gary that rape is a crime, and the only place for discipline in criminal cases is the court system. These are not a couple of boys blowing spitwads or graffiting a bathroom wall. These boys are a rapist and a conspirator to rape.

I feel for this poor girl. She did exactly what she was supposed to do, what we tell our kids to do all the time. She reported the incident immediately to an adult. And then, weeks later, the same adult she reported helped her file a police report when it became clear the the school administration was not going to do it themselves. How much evidence has been lost in that time? How long have the boys had to get their stories straight? How many days did the girl have to continue attending school with her attacker while the principal sat on his hands because he believed enough discipline had been handed out? That one I can actually answer- school got out on Friday, the 22nd. There were 15 school days between June 4th and the 22nd, three of which the boys would have been out on suspension- so 12 fucking days spent in the same building with the rapist and his looky-loo buddy.

I had thought that there was a legal requirement for school professionals to report sexual abuse, but in my very quick research of Washington state rules I found that teachers have a duty to report suspected abuse or neglect to the principal, but it is the principal’s discretion to report it to other authorities. And these laws only apply to suspected child abuse, not to rape or threats of violence from other students.

This isn’t the first time that Seattle Public School’s has had such an issue.

A Ballard High School student threatened to kill another student during a May 11th class. The school knew about the threat, but didn’t contact police.

Maybe the schools would have more time for teaching instead of dealing with “social problems” if they left the actual criminal stuff up to the justice system, like say rape and death threats. Maybe Seattle Public Schools needs to have a policy where all criminal acts that present a threat to other students MUST be reported to the police. You know that if the girl had reported a gun in a locker or a someone with a bag of pot- the principal would have been on the phone to the police in minutes instead. But violence directed at a single student, particularly a female student doesn’t warrant a fucking phone call.

Happy Friday!

For the last few hours a group of guys has been out behind my fence demolishing the blackberry and morning glory bushes that have been waring with each other for space.

The constant buzz/whine of what sounds like a dozen chain saws is driving me completely batshit crazy. I’m pretty sure that those bushes were the only thing holding my fence up. When they are gone, will my little postage stamp yard be exposed to all the world cause my fence has taken a suicide dive onto the sidewalk below?

And now my eyes are all itchy because of all the pollinated crap that is getting released into the air.I am not a happy camper. Wah!

Lesson #7468: No matter that it’s been 4 hours and three hand washings since you sliced hot peppers to make kick ass pico de gallo, you can still burn your eyes if you touch them with your hands. (This lesson applies to naughty bits as well, though I didn’t actually rub those to find out for sure).

Lesson #7469: Cava, a sparkling wine from Spain, kicks champagne’s ass with the fury of a stampeding bull. Mas cava por favor!

There I was, innocently (ok, nothing I ever do is innocent) taking a nap on the couch about to start on a deliciously naughty dream involving hot naked boys when suddenly, the booming voice of Bill Cosby interrupts what promises to be naughty bad fun with a screaming rant about how all grandchildren are spies.

This is shocking enough to wake me up where I find that Bill Cosby is on the TV- screaming about how grandchildren are spies. Possibly that is the least sexy thing ever. Ok, maybe the idea of Dubya giving Turdblossom his nickname in the middle of a santorum filled bathroom is less sexy, but Bill Cosby is obviously a close second.

But the point is- TV is evil because it will ruin naughty bad dream time with hot, naked, imaginary boys. This should be considered a public service announcement.