Days when you hear pshrinks recommend sending a cop-killer to Wal-Mart - for "therapy"- as the holiday shopping season begins...well, I must admit I had to close one eye and twist my head almost completely around to see the logic of that.
Okay, in truth I still don't see it but I could be on the wrong medication.
Luckily there were meatier issues to take my mind off of that one...like the hopping debate over what to call kangaroo meat to get more people to eat it. The Kangaroo Raisers Association or whatever says if cows can be called "beef" and pigs "pork" than kangaroos should have a more palatable name too. They've already determined that "Skippy" would be a bad choice...no doubt averting a lawsuit from Mattel the first time someone said, "Hey Mate! Toss another Skippy on the Barbie!"
Speaking of skippers, you did hear about James Doohan's ashes - you know "Scotty" from the original Star Trek? The story about how his cremated carcass crumbs were grounded due to an engineering snafu...well, that seemed to put the world back in perspective for me...if I squint just right..
