"Rooneys Have A Baby, Yes Lord!

Our friends Ted and Lori Rooney are adopting an adorable boy from Ethiopia. After many months of waiting and many miles of paperwork, they finally got their "referral call." We have your son! There's still another hurdle. The court in Ethiopia has to approve of the adoption, and then he is theirs. Please send them thoughts and prayers so they can bring him home soon!

I'm not Striking, I'm Writing

I'm not on strike from my blog. I've just been writing. My book manuscript is due January 15 and I. must. finish. So if you check in and I haven't been posting, it's because I'm In The Zone. (Or totally having a disco freak OUT).

Once I finish the manuscript I'll be out on the picket line, supporting the WGA. Before I dip under the radar, here's a cartoon my cousin Eric sent me.

Justice for Miss Barstow

"They told me that if I didn't give up my crown to Miss Barstow, my personal integrity could be questioned."

California's annual state beauty pageant crowned the wrong woman. Per a CNN article, five celebrity judges miscounted the votes, giving the lowest point to the true winner (Miss Barstow) and the highest point to the fourth runner-up (Miss Sounds-Better-In-A- Headline).

See, this is what happens when there is a writer's strike. Unemployed celebrities, desperate for media attention, agree to be beauty pageant judges, forgetting they have to DO things, like add and subtract. With math skills like that, they could get jobs as movie studio accountants, who cooked the books to show that "Forrest Gump" was a financial loss, so the writers weren't due any royalties.

For those who don't know California geography, Barstow is a eyesore desert town, half way between Las Vegas and Hell. (wait, Las Vegas is Hell) ... Anyway, you never heard the Beach Boys sing about the girls from Barstow, did you?

Well Barstow has the hermits with the rusted cars on their lawn
And the girls so bored, they turn to crystal meth,
And pop out kids like demon spawn ...

The chicks work at the outlet mall, it's the only job in town
Or the ARCO station, selling gas and twinkies for the desperate, Vegas-bound.
I wish they all could be Barstowfornia girls ...

Well you go, Miss Barstow. Go prove that Barstow has something to export besides despair...