When a guy like The Jackal makes it his life’s work to humiliate others, it’s very tempting to want to name and shame his party-employed tart, if only for her poor taste in men. It’s tempting to want to drag his beleaguered wife and kids through the mud in an effort to find out if this particular “man” has any remorse at all for the way he’s treated others over the years.

But alas, I’m torn. It’s really not his wife’s fault that he’s a bastard, and she was right to throw him out of their home in the Beaches. It’s certainly not for the children to have to pay for their father’s philandering. Of course, taking the high road can get pretty useless after a while, too, given that’s how we lose wars.

As for naming the woman who screwed a married father of - I think it’s three kids - does she deserve the discretion we would afford the wife and children? No. Speaking as a woman who made a living out of fucking other women’s husbands, I happen to know you go into it with your eyes wide open. Before your moist panties are ever flung across an Ottawa hotel room, you accept the fact that you are pissing on someone else’s territory.

Perhaps Lisa should have thought of that before she fucked someone’s father.

As I sip my pink wine in anticipation of the girls coming over for dinner, I’m reading John Hawkins’ interview with Sheriff Joe Arpaio of Arizona.

I love Sheriff Joe. A lot of people think he’s a total sonofabitch, feeding his charges for less than a dollar a day and making them wear pretty panties, but hell - someone has to keep the peace, right?

I think when Joe decides to retire his current position, he should consult on an as-needed basis to the CIA and Guantanamo Bay. Then again, as a retired dominatrix, so should I.

It’s Topless Wednesday again, and who better to spend it with than the lovely and boobtastic WonderWoman?

We’ll be heading out for a night of Erin Go Bragh-less festivities at some dive pub (that shall not be named - no paparazzi, please).

I haven’t seen her since the Mayor’s barbecue back in August, so this will be a treat.

In the meantime, I have things to do. So go forth and get merry - it’s St. Patrick’s Day!

My beloved Bug is five years old today. Because chihuahua puppies are teeny-tiny, they have to be at least eight weeks old before you can bring them home from any reputable breeder. We wasted not a moment and drove out to Milton to pick up the Bug on May 14th.

Before I even met my new best friend, the breeder sent me pictures of him as a wee blind baby:

He looked like a little peanut. I was madly in love before we ever made the drive out to get him. And once settled into the car with my new ball of stink on my lap, wrapped in a towel, the first words I said to him were “You have such a tiny little pecker.” Ever since that day, my Bug has peed like a girl.

Which is not to say he’s not fierce. While down on the farm in Kansas, he exercised his bossiness by yipping at the other hounds and frightening the chickens. Not to mention, you should see him snarl and thrash around with his Hillary Clinton chew toy. My Bug is a warrior!

He is also the sweet, furry little lump snuggled beneath the covers at night. He settles in against my ribs, or at the small of my back. I feel him breathe, hear him dream and smell him fart. He does the same for me. And when morning comes, his belly rubs are before all else - before the morning pee, before the first coffee. He wiggles and squiggles around on my chest while I rub his tummy, and then we get up to start our day together.

I love you, Baby Bug. Happy Birthday.

Damn. How could I have almost let slip the anniversary of the squishing of Rachel Corrie in Israel? She threw herself in front of a steamroller, and now her parents are suing the makers of said steamroller.  Thereby proving that the whole Corrie family is mentally deficient.

Celebrate stupidity in all its forms today by having a pancake feast. As a Canadian, I must stress the importance of using real maple syrup. Eh.

Today we have two stories about homosexuality that shouldn’t surprise anyone. The first one is about the scourge of the gay community (no, not Christians - the other scourge) - AIDS.

Even in the United States, where laws are not restrictive and the gay community was the first to tackle AIDS, Sidibe said it is “shocking” that more than 50 percent of new HIV infections last year occurred among homosexuals. And he said in the 19-25 age bracket the infection rate was even higher.

“It seems like we have come full circle” in the United States, he said. “After almost no cases a few years ago we are seeing again this new peak among people who are not having access to all the information, the protection that is needed.”

Ok, how simple do we have to make this? Ass fucking someone of the same sex will kill you. Dead. How much more of an disincentive do you need? I mean, New York State wants to ban salt, forfucksake, but ass fucking is still A-OK. Believe me, it isn’t about a lack of information. This stuff is taught in schools starting in kindergarten. Maybe it has something to do with the mentality of the practitioners?

The next story is about same-sex parenting. Same sex parents and single parents etc can only mess kids up. The kids raised in these homes are lacking the balance that comes from the other parent’s input. I was raised by my father after my mother died. It sucked, it was complicated and yes, it caused scars. Kids from broken homes also tend to grow up more dysfunctional than the average 2-parent kid. Usually. There are always exceptions. The current president is one. But at least he had a grandfather to give him some kind of male influence.

Same sex parents are bad for children if they deprive them of the influence of a father or mother, a leading family lawyer said today.

Baroness Deech warned that gay or lesbian parents cannot be best for the welfare of children if there is no contact with adults of another sex.

Why doesn’t this matter more? Why is the gay lobby so powerful that the basic needs of children can be overshadowed by the selfish needs of an aberrant parent? I fully expect a lot of wailing and howling over this post - I can take it. But in between hissy fits, I would love to have the hysterical screechers take a moment or two to consider someone other than themselves. I know it’s difficult, but do try.

I don’t go to movies that often. There are many reasons for this, but the top two boil down to

a) they’re too expensive

b) most movies out in recent years have sucked hairy moosecock

One of the most expensive parts of going to the movies are the mis-named “concessions”. It’s $14 to get in the door, and then another $20 for snacks. And there aren’t a lot of choices. Chocolate, greasy popcorn or a stale hotdog. Over the years I’ve gone through phases where I’ve had special dietary needs (no salt, no fat, no starch, whatever) - usually to clear up specific digestive conditions. Theaters however really discourage the bringing of snacks from outside their own little mafia-esque lobby installations. I couldn’t for example, enjoy a meal replacement bar or a banana instead of the aforementioned choices.

With adult-onset diabetes on the rise in the West, you’d think it wouldn’t be a war just to get some crudités or an apple in the door of a movie theater, but it is. Well, now Sony Pictures wants to change that.

Speaking at the ShoWest convention in Las Vegas on Monday, Sony Pictures CEO Michael Lynton said that, while the current fare offered at theaters is great, theater owners should be considering healthier alternatives.

“I don’t mean to close the window for popcorn, soda and candy. Audiences love them and should always be able to buy them at your theaters,” he said. But he added that “by bringing healthier snacks into your concession stands, you would be helping our country meet an urgent public health need,”

Lyton pointed to a survey Sony did of 26 theaters around the country. According to their findings, 42% of parents said they’d buy more food at the concession stands if healthier options were made available.

Believe me, I’m not a food Nazi. I’ve fought the fascist dictates of the crazy nut-phobes and the lactose intolerant, feeling that we should all be allowed to make our own food choices. But if the options are limited to fat, sugar and salt, there really aren’t many choices you can make. Personally, my favorite thing to sneak into the theater is a bag of peanuts without chocolate on them. Sony isn’t saying theaters can’t serve junk food - they’re merely asking for additions to the menu. I think it’s a good idea, and I’d like to see how it would play out. Would people opt for healthier fare?

I’m back on the air!

No shiny announcer or whizbang editing - just me and a mic and whatever’s on my mind. Much shorter than Brass Balls Radio, In Bed With RightGirl will update 2-3 times per week. So subscribe to the site feed to make sure you never miss an episode! (iTunes subscription option coming sometime this week)

Many thanks to Tammy from Tammy’s Designs for creating a gorgeous new blog for the project.

Of course, a gorgeous new blog means lots of new advertising space for those who are interested. GOTR is full to the max right now, so take advantage and grab your spot over at In Bed With RightGirl. Just drop me an email or use a Blogad.

Today has been a crappy day for my internet. It keeps going down like a $5 whore! So I’ll type as quickly as I can to get this posted.

Scroll to the bottom of the list for the really exciting news… Or read on…

Injuns. Goddam. They boot you out of the club after a couple of years, but expect us to still give a shit about treaties signed over a century ago? You first, dirtsquirrels. And people actually have the nerve to wonder why I don’t apply for a status card? Fuck you, that’s why.

Eight common biz-blogging mistakes.

Let’s kill old people! Hey, their lives are over anyway, right? Like Ebenezer Scrooge said, we need to decrease the surplus population!

BUTT SEX!!!

I want to throw a shoutout to Instapundit for the ‘lanche this week on my post about women in the workplace, and a special thanks to Basil for bringing the post to Glenn’s attention.

Any idea how much money security guards make? Uh huh. I’m surprised the guard even shows up for work. Those bastards probably make about as much as the drooling retard at the door greeting you.

ACORN catches on that truth is indeed a defense.

IMPORTANT (EXCITING) NEWS! You all miss Brass Balls Radio, and I don’t blame you. Well starting Monday you can get In Bed With RightGirl - come on, you know you wanna. Stay tuned. I’ll be posting the link Monday morning.

Click the image to sign the petition.

I posted this video earlier, but it seems to have fallen down the memory hole. Sorry.

Check Andrew out at Strictly Right.

With thanks to WonderWoman and her dashing hubby for sending me this brilliant pic. No Mikey, it isn’t my old office!

I’m full! I just negotiated the last spot I can possibly fill. I cannot take anymore text-based ads for 2010 other than the ones that have already been discussed via email. Thanks to all my sponsors for their interest (and their money!).

That said, Blogads are available at a really good price. Just $50 a week for a hot looking full color hi-rise right below the iconic “Betty” image that signifies Girl on the Right.

Click here to reserve your Blogad. Design it to your specifications, and get the hot spot!

I celebrate being back online, having my dog back, and enjoying one of the two weekly “casual” days of the home worker.

Another drug overdose, just like River Phoenix. Both actors were bit players in my 80s childhood. River more so than Corey, I suppose. And of course, River Phoenix and I died on the same day in 1993, so we’re forever linked.

Still, it’s sad to see what happens to child stars when they realize they’re incapable of growing up.

No matter how long the mustaches grow on the hairy-chinned feminists, they never get any wiser. Women are still being badgered to “have it all” and “do more”, even though nature trumps nurture when it comes to childbearing.

Women returning to work post-baby often care less about their job than before they gave birth, says a joint survey released last week by ForbesWoman and TheBump.com, a U.S. website for first-time parents.

The survey, which polled 2,210 women online last month, found that although 59 per cent of mothers said they were “glad to be back at work,” 59 per cent also said they “no longer cared as much” about their job.

Nor should they care as much, since raising children is a much bigger, more important responsibility than pushing papers around a desk at some made-up corporate job. Having worked in the belly of the beast, I’d say that at least a third - and that’s a very conservative estimate - of office jobs could be eliminated in a fell swoop with nobody noticing the loss. Start with the HR departments, for one. Jobs for women, about women. What a waste. The same way the washing machine made women’s work easier at home, the computer has done for men at the office - except women keep insisting on working. So jobs have to be invented. Form-filling is nice easy work - let’s have women do that!

Think I’m making that up? Read on:

While 23 per cent of the women surveyed reported having flex hours, it is still a challenge to find employers willing to tailor jobs to women’s needs. After her son was born in 2006, Sara Sutton Fell found so many telecommuting scams online that she decided to started FlexJobs.com, a job-postings site for returning moms looking for alternative work arrangements.

The Colorado woman said companies would do well to invest in work-life balance solutions for new moms to avoid high turnover and the cost of retraining: “The employers have a short-sighted view,” she said.

The employers only have one view, Sara - making money. And if you are demanding things that mess with the bottom line, someone else will come along and do your job better than you, with fewer complaints. Employers pay us to do our jobs as the employer needs them done. Unless you are some kind of award winning CEO that a company couldn’t possibly live without (think Steve Jobs - they brought that guy back from the dead when Apple stock began to tank), the company is under no obligation to accommodate you or your children.

There are plenty of part time jobs out there, ladies. But they pay part time wages.

I’m not saying women shouldn’t work. And I’m not saying women shouldn’t have children - frankly there’s no one else who can. All I’m saying is don’t buy into the feminist line that you can have babies and a gold-plated career and six orgasms before breakfast. Life is about compromises. What are you willing to trade?

Hmmm… As someone who has dealt with chemical imbalances leading to depression and anxiety over the years, I’m not sure I want my own personal brand of crazy to be lumped in with Islam. Though when I think about it, wouldn’t you have to be crazy to subscribe to such a lark of a faith?

Attorneys for an Orchard Park man accused of beheading his wife want to pursue a psychiatric defense.

They’re asking the courts to give their client, 44-year-old Muzzammil Hassan, access to his bank accounts to pay for experts.

Investigators said Hassan beheaded his wife, Aasiya, in February of 2009.

In addition, he’s apparently suffering the ravages of Islamophobia.

Since we’re on the subject of various forms of madness, let’s look once again at the word “islamophobia”, shall we?

A phobia is an irrational fear - like of non-poisonous spiders, open spaces, enclosed spaces, or the number 13 (treskidekaphobia).

Islam indoctrinates its followers to run around the globe murdering people. Examples are September 11, Ecole Polytechnique, gay bashing in the Netherlands, the stoning of women in Somalia… the list goes on.

So is the fear of Islam really all that irrational? And if not, is there such a thing as “islamophobia”, since any fear of Islam is based in rational reasoning?

I’ve received a few emails about the link ad to the right of the screen. The one about cigarettes. One person reminded me that my mother died of lung cancer when I was still a child - good thing this busybody reminded me, because I had forgotten!

Look, I’m not Warren Kinsella, despite my affection for drinking, bad music, fucking around and pissing off my employers. Ok, maybe I am Warren Kinsella. But I’m not going to nanny you to death over your choices, and I don’t expect you to nanny me over my advertising.

The thing is, the guy who put the ad there paid me for it. He paid me in cash, not in cigarettes. That link on the side of my blog isn’t going to persuade me to smoke, and it likely isn’t going to persuade you either. But if you already smoke - and it’s frankly none of my fucking business if you do - you might be interested in the site he’s pimping.

There’s also an ad there for some kind of dick pills. I’m not terribly likely to take those, either (might be more suited to Warren, actually), but the ad is there in case someone is interested.

I don’t care if people smoke. I only care about me. And I don’t smoke. So please shut up.

Thanks!

Finally, Geert Wilders, outspoken Dutch MP and wild-haired critic of Islam, made it into England and to the House of Lords where his film Fitna was screened. His speech to the peerage can be read here.

Ladies and gentlemen, not far from here stands a statue of the greatest Prime Minister your country ever had. And I would like to quote him here today: “Mohammedanism is a militant and proselytizing faith. No stronger retrograde force exists in the World. It has already spread throughout Central Africa, raising fearless warriors at every step (…) the civilization of modern Europe might fall, as fell the civilization of ancient Rome.” These words are from none other than Winston Churchill wrote this in his book ‘The River War’ from 1899.

Wilders isn’t the bigot that people make him out to be. He’s simply calling out a hypocrisy in the Netherlands that makes it ok to ban books like Mein Kampf, but not the Koran, which is even more vitriolic toward Jews. He has chutzpah, and a massive following in the Netherlands and around the world. Unless some crazed jihadi takes it upon himself to assassinate him in the near future, Wilders is poised to become the next prime minister of the Netherlands.

If you want to wear the smokin’ hawt t-shirt that you see on Wilders, you can order one here. The text reads “When you laugh you are not afraid. When youa re not afraid you are free.“

On Monday, after a long and agonizing separation, I was reunited with my gorgeous, smelly, dopey, loving, devoted and delightfully silly best friend, Bug. For four grueling months I went to sleep without the comforting lump against my ribs that used to tell me Bug was asleep next to me.

At one point I panicked, thinking I would lose him forever to the forces of those who think they know what’s best. But I persevered, and I was rewarded with snout smudges on my glasses, obscuring the tears I was so desperately trying to not spill.

Welcome back, Baby Bug. I love you.