I can't tell if that's Molly or Beef. Either is just weird (after all that, what could possibly make Molly leave? And Beef... well, doesn't strike me as the transgendered sort, born semi-intersexed or no.)

And Philippe... God, Philippe is five. It is sad to think that all of the guest strips about Philippe being old are off the mark, because Philippe is five.

NOT SHOWN: Pat defeated in re-election bid (R-CA), LN 'experimenting' in college and settling down with Chuckle Bot, Nice Pete smoking a whole mess of meth and dying eighty years old at the typewriter, Doc Andretti's Magreux Dog wearing his Nobel prize for cybernetic ears, Todd's scheme to shake down the Dude and Catastrophe for protection money going horribly awry, Lyle earning tenure.

Holy shit: has anyone else noticed that Cornelius is rocking the ganj?

So is it only cute animals that have sacred life? What about bacteria, or ants, or cockroaches, or rats, or beets?
How can one arbitrarily draw a line at what living thing is sacred and what is not?
Can it be simply understood that there is a very clear division between the life of a human the life of a beet? I'm just saying it is not necessarily hypocritical to eat animal and believe human life is sacred. The fine area of the debate, for me, is when exactly "human life begins". As a pro-choice male, I still struggle to justify to myself drawing some artificial line at the third trimester or day before birth or day of conception as to when its "ok" to terminate. What I don't struggle with is knowing that I don't have lady parts and therefore have very little to say about what happens in or around them.

Technically speaking, if you justify humanity on anything reasonable - something that doesn't entitle ancephalic fetuses or the braindead to legal protection from termination - the level of brain activity which would qualify isn't present anywhere except in potentia until about, oh, 6 months after birth.

The only reason we get our panties in a bunch about infanticide is because we're programmed in the dumb hairless ape part of our brains to consider children cute (as opposed to the three other preprogrammed states: sex, food, and run) well before they're worth according with the dignity of a human being.

For perspective, it is literally biologically impossible for a human being to remember anything that actually happened before they were 18 months old. (Hypnotic regression to infancy, re-birthing, and especially 'past lives' are hilarious to me, knowing this. (That people have been put in jail because of 'recovered' infant molestation memories, that the idea of reincarnation basically kept the caste system alive and billions of human beings in rags in India for millenia, and that a young girl in Colorado died of strangulation while being crushed to death under a 'womb-simulating' blanket by her well-meaning parents and a couple of fraud therapists does kind of ruin the humor.)) I am not sure why I know this, but I do. I can look for a source for you if you like.

I'm not saying kill your baby with a tack hammer, but next time you hear about infanticide in some famine-stricken country don't be too fast to shout away the devil's advocates saying how otherwise the grown children are gonna starve. And pretty much any line in the sand as to where abortion becomes OK is arbitrary, unless you really find fetuses adorable.

That was on a Mythbusters episode.  Did you know they're not gay?

Don't want to see the episode where they test that one.

I've done it, certainly. This is why I talk about the "plot" -- the majority of the times I watch porn are actually with a group of friends, usually mixed-gender, with no intent on anyone getting off on it. This means that generally we rent ludicrous things (like "High Desert Pirates," which had a surprisingly elaborate rolling-pirate-ship set, a subplot about "nuclearized anthrax," and a greasy guy in a poncho who never appeared in any porn scenes) such that they can be mocked. (Admittedly, for "High Desert Pirates," most of the fun was spending a good 20 minutes wandering around the porn room at Movie Gallery and laughing hysterically while choosing a film. "Hey guys!! Can we get 'Unusual Gay Cocks?' Seriously, look at this cover -- they're unusual!!")

Canned for being so kind as to explain Unusual Gay Cocks.

This is me in a tie some time ago. Note pimples and youthful innocence.
This is me as a duck around the same time. Note Mao-jacket-thing.
This is me and my fiancee on Halloween. She is a catgirl and I am a princess.

Who the fuck cares what those assholes say?

The IRS, for starters. Part of why Sam and I aren't getting married until it's legal for everyone is that several of our gay friends have been in long-term relationships and if one of them were on his or her (mostly her, but that is because American men have ants in their #####) deathbed the other one would not have power of attorney or be able to provide insurance or anything. It is unfortunate in all kinds of ways living in a country where assholes who are OK with Britney Spears marrying a man for five minutes but not OK with one dude marrying another run shit.

Unfortunately, when people act a dick it is everyone's problem in at least a little way. Even when they are marginal and obscure - the world is basically poorer for the Westboro Baptist assholes being the subject of mass-media attention. Thanks to their asinine business, there is at least one preacher out there who will be more comfortable castigating gays openly instead of just going after their practices, and one more red-state gay teenager who would have had a decent enough upbringing being denied it because his parents are impressionable when it comes to 900-foot Jesuses.

Never underestimate the power of one man or one lady to make a difference - whether he or she is a power for good or for Dick.

I sent the meatspin link to my roommate under the title "A-CAP Bans Alcohol".
He threw off his headphones, called me a dick, and stormed out of the room.

Canned, you magnificent reactionary bastard.

I can't even imagine college without alcohol. I prefer pot, but my first strong memory of the dorms in which I now live was waking up in one covered in vomit and wearing someone else's clothes. (On second thought, calling that a strong memory is probably an overstatement.) You basically only get cracked down on for bringing Substances into your room if your RA is a huge dick or if you are. Then again, my fiancee and I aren't big drinkers and parties are boring if you're not single, so I don't know too well from experience.

at least SOMEBODY'S havin' fun!

Michael Jackson?