Have I mentioned lately how much time I spend thinking about Ron Paul and what I would do to him if he would let me? Dear god, I can't stop obsessing over this. I wake up, drenched in sweat. Then I tell rottenseed to get off me and I try to go back to my dreams about that sexy Congressman from Texas.

Did I also mention my penchant for cats farting? It's not just a hobby anymore. It's become my quest for meaning in an otherwise hopeless world. I mean, I do live in the city that produces nothing but liberal environmentalist propaganda, and I hate those hippies. I hate them! So I spend my days perusing the latest Cat Fart Fancy magazines I special-order from Malaysia. They're costly, but maybe someday I can fill the Sift with enough video clips that I won't even need to check the mailbox for the latest issue anymore. I'll just click my mouse three times and the cat farts will come flying out of my e-mail! Oh, I'm getting so excited just thinking about it! Gotta go!