I'm sacreligious. I flicked the television off when the pope died (as in gave it my middle finger, not as in "turned it off").

Perpetuating sexual abuse by shifting priests from parish to parish, as well as barring people, particularly women, the right to use a condom to prevent HIV are pretty abominable. Uhm, also, a billion-member organization that doesn't have Black women represented is creepy to me. I think the Vatican should be run via a panel chaired by Cornel West, like in The Matrix. But I'd add in Oprah and Lani Guinier. And Debbie Allen, cause she could get all the priests and bishops and cardinals to do a mean ensemble number to Missy Elliot's chorus of "pussy don't fail me now".

I've got a cold and should have stayed in last night. Instead, I went to a party. It was like Sex in the City without the humor. A lot of pumped up fags in $150 jeans, factory-ripped at the flank; svelte women in Prada footwear; expensive furniture. I mildly enjoyed the zoological exposure, but the crowd wasn't very hospitable and I wasn't feeling well enough to strike up conversations. It would have taken a vat of kerosene and a lot of flint to get these people warmed up. Think funeral pyre.

I hope no one random reads this. They're gonna totally think I'm Third Reich instead of Queer Semite.