The Mexican Divorce No Longer

I would like to dedicate this post to Rush Limbaugh, as according to Wiki, he's been married THREE times. Republicans, think about you mouthpiece. You're playing with fire when you get rid of the simple "no fault" divorce.

That and I need blog hits.

I've got a story for you:

http://www.totaldivorce.com/divorce_articles_get_divorced_in_texas.asp

I hope this link gets you to where you need to go. If it doesn't let me explain:

Rep. Warren Chisum (R-Pampa) introduced a bill into the Texas legislature giving couples a choice between the marriage licenses. One is called a "covenant" the other is a "standard" license. Under a "covenant" license, one may only be granted a divorce in "adverse circumstances".

What exactly are adverse circumstances?

Basically, domestic violence.

Then the couple has to attend both psychological and clerical counseling.

This is the second time the idea has been proposed. It was heard last year in the Texas house and voted down. (Imagine that, a ridiculous idea voted down in Texas Congress. The logic is freaking me out.) Now it is appearing again.

There is also a discussion about allowing the "no fault divorce", under the covenant plan, if all parties are willing to take a class beforehand.

Which brings me to another episode of Masterass Theater:

The I Wanna Divorce Class

This, of course, is merely speculative.

So don't sue me, A Rod, Madonna, Christie Brinkley, Christie Brinkley's husband, whose name I'm too lazy to look up, A Rod's wife whose name I'm also too lazy to look up, and Guy Richie.

Don't hate me because I'm lazy.

Scene: This play takes place in the Sunday school classroom at a local Baptist church. (It just had to be Baptist-- if Madonna had to attend the divorce class wouldn't it just be awesome that it be in a Texas Baptist church?) Chairs are in a circle in the center of the room. From clockwise: Patty Goodwill, a licensed professional counselor (LPC), who is a perky blond about thirty, Madonna, Guy Richie, A Rod, A Rod's Wife, Christie Brinkley, and Christie Brinkley's husband.

Patty Goodwill: OK, let's start out by introducing ourselves. My name is Patty Goodwill. I am a Licensed Professional Counselor and have been practicing for three years. Our purpose today is to explore options available to you other than divorce.

Madonna: My name is Esther--

Patty: Excuse me? I thought you were Madonna?

Madonna: Madonna is my performing name. My Kaballah name is Esther.

Patty: Oh

Madonna: I am a Golden Globe winning performer. My concert tour was the highest grossing of the summer of 2007.

Patty: How lovely (looking at Guy) and you are?

Madonna: (a little annoyed she was cut off) He's my husband Guy Richie, the famous director.

Guy: (smiles) Hi

A Rod: I'm A Rod

Patty: Is A Rod what we should call you?

A Rod: Yeah, I don't remember my legal name. I'm a professional baseball player for the New York Yankees. This is my wife and she's pretty pissed.

Patty: How so?

A Rod: Basically, I've been screwing Madonna.

Patty: Let's not say "screwing", A Rod. Try to be a little more sensitive.

A Rod: I'm sorry--

Madonna: Wait a second. A Rod and I are just good friends. I introduced him to the Kaballah--

A Rod's Wife: (angry, looking at Madonna) Oh, and I suppose the late night visits and the pictures of him leaving your apartment were Kaballah studies. Don't call me stupid, SKANK.

Patty: Let's calm down, please. (looking at A Rod's wife) I know you must be very troubled right now. It would be very helpful to you to use more concrete language so that we understand your anger.

A Rod's Wife: I think SCANK is pretty concrete.

Patty: OK . . .

Christie Brinkley: (tossing her blond hair over her shoulder) I'm Christie Brinkley, eighties supermodel. I'm here because my husband is addicted to porn and 18- year- olds.

Christie Brinkley's Husband: I'm the husband.

Madonna: Oh please

Christie Brinkley: Excuse me?

Madonna: Christie, I've known you since Studio 54. You really cannot still be this stupid.

Patty: Name calling is absolutely unacceptable--

Madonna: (Turning to Patty) I'm talking. (Back to Christie) Anyway, how many times have you been married?

Christie: Four

Madonna: Four times. And you STILL are picking idiots?

Christie Brinkley's Husband: Hey--

Christie: But we had a near death experience together--

Madonna: So? I had near death experiences with both Charles Barkley and Warren Beatty. That certainly doesn't mean I should marry either. Look at the list, babe. You were married to the race car driver--

Christie: I was really young then.

Madonna: Whatever. Then Billy Joel, who could be considered a race car driver, if race car drivers drink Peach Schnapps while racing and NASCAR is held on roads in the Hamptons. Apparently there was a third husband, who I don't know anything about, and this loser.

Christie Brinkley's Husband: I don't appreciate being called a loser by an aging club girl, who right now is a plastic surgeon's portfolio.

Madonna: (Sucking in air) I've never had cosmetic surgery. NEVER. I've aged well due to my exercise regiment, diet regiment and--

A Rod's Wife: Screwing EVERYONE.

Christie Brinkley: And a little Botox

Madonna: (screaming) THAT'S NOT TRUE. I don't use Botox.

Patty: (a little panicked) Hold on. That's not why were here. Let's take a step back from our individual anger and consider talking honestly about what you can do to salvage the relationship.

(a long pause)

Christie Brinkley: I got nothing.

Christie Brinkley's Husband: Me either. I guess I shouldn't have screwed the 18-year-old.

Patty: Again, let's not say "screw".

Christie Brinkley: Probably not.

A Rod: I should have stayed away from Madonna.

A Rod's Wife: Yep

A Rod: And Madonna's assistant

Madonna: Excuse me?

A Rod: And that dancer from Score's

Madonna: What?

A Rod: And that intern with the Yankees front office. Both of them.

Madonna: You CHEATED on me.

A Rod's Wife: The other woman doesn't get cheated ON, idiot.

Patty: Please, let's end the name calling.

A Rod: And who are you to talk, fleeing to Paris with ole Lenny.

A Rod's Wife: Lenny is a friend of mine. I needed to get away from all of this drama.

Madonna: Did you stay at his place in Monmatre? Isn't it great.

A Rod's Wife: (with a giggle) Totally

Patty: Madonna, er Esther, you haven't spoken about your relationship with Guy. What could you do to improve your marriage?

Madonna: Oh, we're not divorcing.

Patty: Excuse me?

Madonna: First of all, we have no prenump. If I divorce Guy, I'm out like 100 million dollars.

Guy: Try 300 million, dear.

Madonna: Greedy little failure, aren't you?

Patty: So why are you here?

Madonna: Well, the Hollywood drama divorce is really trendy right now and I'm just feeling out the turf.

The room is silent, as the group considers the concept.


A Rod's Wife: (turns to A Rod) I'm writing a tell all.

A Rod: Really?

A Rod's Wife: Really

Christie Brinkley's Husband: (turning to Christie) So am I.

Christie Brinkley: (annoyed) And what are you going to say? That you were sucking a $3,000 a month porn habit out of my checking account?

Christie Brinkley's Husband: Point taken

Christie Brinkley: (flipping her hair back) This is getting old. Patty it was a joy. I think you can tell that we are definitely divorce material. What would you do in my position?

Patty: (looking haggard) Drink. Give me the form and I'll sign it. (looking at A Rod and Wife) And you guys I assume want the same.

A Rod's Wife: Yep. (A Rod's wife's cell phone rings) I'm sorry I have to take this-- it's the PI I hired to go through A Rod's garbage. (Turning to A Rod) I hope you were good last night.

A Rod: (following his wife out of the room) YOU CAN'T DO THAT. I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING AT HOME LAST NIGHT.

Madonna: (watching Patty pull out a third form) What are you doing?

Patty: I'm completing another one of these for you guys. I don't want to sit through this again and I'm not seeing your marriage lasting a lifetime.

Madonna: (shrieking) OF COURSE MY MARRIAGE WILL LAST A LIFETIME. I CAN'T LET JOKE OF A "FILM MAKER" TAKE ALL OF MY MONEY.

Guy: I won't take all, just half.

Patty: Whatever, I'm not spending another evening like this again.

(Madonna storms out of the room. The soon-to-be former Brinkleys exit as well.)

Patty (turning to Guy): So . . . do you have a plan in all this ridiculousness?

Guy: No. I just like to dangle the idea of divorce periodically. It's not like we see each other that much. We're not even in the same country most of the time.

END OF SCENE

In Texas we are all about protecting the "sanctity of marriage". We've got amendments to the already quite amended Texas constitution prohibiting certain populations from marrying and everything. My question is this:

Does making divorce difficult really do anything for protecting the "sanctity of marriage"? I guess, perhaps it makes people consider the whole picture a little longer and harder. But divorce is a real pain in the ass. Not to mention expensive. I asked Karen about this and she told me of all the divorced people she knows, she can only think of one she truly believes didn't give her marriage a true shot. She also knows one person who pondered divorce for roughly thirteen years before she acted on it.

I think I have a better solution: why not make GETTING MARRIED a little more difficult? For heterosexual couples, it's not difficult to marry. I think the license costs like forty bucks (someone correct me if I'm wrong-- the man won't allow me to marry). Maybe you should be evaluated beforehand. I don't know. It just seems pretty stupid to try and convince adults not to divorce at the point when they've already made the decision in their little pissed off brains.

Good luck with that.

What the Chuck???

So much going on. So much going on. . .

It's been a very eventful weekend.

Chuck the Pug

J.T., Karen's non evil brother, came to visit from Dallas. He brought with him both a girl and a dog.

Other than the fact that the girl stole my room and shut the door so I couldn't go inside and take a nap in her suitcase, I have no serious beefs with the her.

She seems nice.

However, the pug is a different story.

Chuck is a PUPPY. He kind of looks like a drunken Gargoyle. He runs about chasing things. Sometimes when he moves with stuff in his mouth he runs into furniture. He chews on things. Thankfully his attention span is nil, so he doesn't chew long enough to destroy or damage much.

Chuck chases his tail, that is, until he is distracted by something random.

He tried to eat tissue paper. I could not make this up. Who does that?

I can't believe Karen's parents would allow a DOG in their home. It just isn't civilized. The dog even pooped on the rug by the back door. That's utterly disgusting. Even Sadie wouldn't do that.

Sadie, by the way, is hiding underneath the bed in the spare room. She comes out only when she's sure Chuck is in his kennel. Period. Then she takes care of all her business at once and goes back into hiding.

Thankfully, Chuck has a healthy fear of me and is too small to jump on the couch. So I'm pretty safe as long as I stay on furniture.

Karen told me I needed to "be nice" to Chuck.

Whatever

Chuck ate some of my food, I think. I didn't actually see him do this, but I could sense his dog stench by the bowl.

So I ate some of his.

Done

Rush Limbaugh and the Celebrated Stalker

I've taken a slight hit at the blog counter. For this reason, we are returning to our original format of dropping the name of Rush Limbaugh in the headline.

To the right is a picture of my problem.

This is Sofie. She comes over during the day between the hours of nine and noon. During this time I live in the most serious fear for my life. Sofie is a dangerous stalker, obsessed with my celebrity status. She follows me around the house, squealing and shrieking with delight. She tries to pull my tail, poke my eyes, bite my ears, etc.

She licked Sadie. I could not make this up. This is even more disgusting knowing the fact Sadie sheds to the point it is amazing she has any hair at all. (Karen and I've discussed waxing her, but Karen thinks that would be "cruel"-- whatever.)

As a celebrated writer, it is very difficult to produce under such stressful circumstances. Due to Sofie's "cuteness" Karen is only minimally sympathetic. She did say that as soon as the house sold we'd buy another one and then Sadie and I would move back in with her.

Actually, I'm kind of digging it here at Karen's parent's house. The house is like four times the size of Karen's. They have lots of places to hide and Karen's mom does a far better job with fulfilling all of my general needs.

I just would like a restraining order against Sofie, who is probably planted here by her father, the evil Jeff, just to terrorize me.

Anyway . . .

Our House

Our house if finally officially on the market!!!

Karen asked me to use my notoriety for marketing purposes. I'm going to put some pictures in a photobucket slide show and display it on ye ole blog in the sidebar. Anyway, if you like what you see shoot me an email (penelopeandsadie@aol.com) and I'll get you in touch with the right people.

In the meantime, it's now five after nine. I have to get upstairs before Sofie gets here.

Go 'Stros

"Pimple on the Arse of Journalism"

I totally stole this from my good friend Billy Pilgrim, as I love "pimple on the arse of journalism" almost as much as "asshats", which I haven't figured out how to use in a sentence yet, but still I am looking for a way to work it into daily conversation.

Being that I am providing you, the educated reader of discriminating taste with a plethora of knowledge, I have decided that I am a journalist.

Karen begs to differ.

"At best you are a editorialist," she told me. "Occasionally you would fall into the category of satirist. Mostly, I'd say you are a critic."

"I can't call you a journalist because you offer too many opinions," she informed me. "Besides you do virtually no investigation and don't even leave the house."

"Furthermore, journalists don't sleep eighteen hours a day."

How does she know what a journalist does?

Whatever. But what if my opinions are right? Could that give me any credibility?

"An opinion can't be right. It's just an opinion."

Oh please. Karen clearly is misinformed.

So what else can I tell you???

Congratulations to Our Blogger Friend

Speaking of journalists . . .

Our good friend Reid Kerr, at Reid About It (see link list) just got hitched.

Isn't that great???

You guys should all go over to his site and send your kudos.

More About Me and My Troubles

I am still at Karen's parent's house. Sadie takes refuge most of the time under Karen's parent's bed. I prefer to hang out in one of the upstairs bedrooms.

Mostly things are very quiet. The spawn of evil Jeff hangs out with us only for a few hours in the morning and since she does not roam upstairs, I am very capable of keeping myself safe. Karen comes by every day or two to visit.

Sometimes I miss her. Right now I'm exploring other options though. I mean, Karen's mom does a pretty good job of feeding us and, quite frankly, she does a hands down better job of keeping the box clean. I'm not saying I'm planning on replacing Karen just yet, but if she refuses to take me seriously as a journalist, I think I might need to consider other options.

A really cool thing about Karen's parent's house: the birds.

They have these birds that are very arrogant and get right up on the front porch really close to the door. Karen's mom gripes about the bird crap on the door frame constantly. All I'm going to say is this: just give me just one shot at those birds and the bird poop problem is over.

Totally

Tim Russert is No Ordinary Cat

Today I am foregoing the shameless name dropping of Rush Limbaugh for the purpose of blog hits. I think it's important for us to recognize one of the greatest men in modern American journalism.

FYI: The photo is of Luke Russert, son of Tim Russert. It was taken by Alex Wong and provided by Reuters.

I did not pay for this, as I am a cat and have no money.

Now back to the show . . .

Tim Russert

For my entire life I spent almost every Sunday morning while Karen flipped between Face the Nation and Meet the Press. It's just what we do here at I Don't Pretend to be an Ordinary Cat.

Sunday's broadcast brought back so many memories. My personal favorite was Russert nailing Chertoff (who I swear looks like those Nazis in Raiders of the Lost Art when their faces are being melted off by the Ark of the Covenant) over the slow assistance after hurricane Katrina. I also like the "is there anything in your past which would make your nomination for presidency an embarrassment" question to ole slick Willie circa 1991.

I don't want to repeat what everyone else is saying. But let's face it: Tim Russert was by far the fairest interviewer in the American media. We have lost more than what we realize.

Youtube has the Sunday's show if you'd like to see it.

Anyway . . .

Have you heard about this?

http://www.thestandard.com/news/2008/06/13/ap-sues-blogger-too-long-excerpts

Does this mean I can't cite articles from Associated Press anymore?

What happens if I continue?

Are they going to sue me?

What do they expect to get? I'm a cat. I own nothing, as I am far too important for property responsibilities.

I guess they could sue Karen.

"Don't even bring me into this," Karen said to me. "My name better not be affiliated with your blog if I'm going to be sued over a violation of fair use."

Whatever

S0, fellow bloggers, what are your plans? How do you guys interpret this ridiculousness?

Anyway . . .

More on My Circumstances

So as you know I'm temporarily living at Karen's parent's house. This is OK, except for one thing:

The small one.

Every morning the small one (who they call Sofie) comes over. This wouldn't be a problem except she is very predatory and I spend most of those hours looking over my shoulder, hoping that she isn't behind me, making an attempt at my life.

It just isn't fair. She's allowed to come after me, going for my tail or ears, but if I so much as hiss in response, I'm the "bad" one.

There are just some things I don't understand.

"And so we go on, boats against the current, borne ceaslessly into the past . . . "