In case you missed it: GetUpGrrl's Gefilte boy is finally here! Congratulations, Grrl!! Don't worry, you'll learn to anticipate the fountain effect.

To the person who found me today by googling "relocation and wetnursing your husband":

You have issues my friend. Seriously big issues. But as long as you asked, I advise taking careful aim with your nipple, shoot him in the eye to get his attention and tell him to get his ass back to work unloading the U-Haul.

New life to Civil Unions?

Perhaps. Rep. Mary Nolan today introduced a new Bill, HB 3508 that would combine both the anti-discrimination lingo, civil unions and Repub's reciprocal benefits idea into one bill. Since SB1000 is apparently dead in committee.

Screw On, Screw Off…(or Don’t Fuck with a Woman’s Battery Operated Tools)

What is it about men and tools? (I know, rhetorical question)

The other night I got a hair up my ass and decided to assemble the Critter’s high chair. He’s getting bored with the recumbent position of his bouncy and is demanding to sit up all the time. So the high chair seemed appropriate.

But the minute a screwdriver or hammer appears in my hand Curt turns into this condescending toolmaster who bears a striking resemblance to Mr. Miyagi of Karate Kid fame. He becomes intently fixated on my technique and if I don’t successfully get something screwed all the way in within 5 turns or less (or whatever time period he deems appropriate) he begins to offer such annoying advice as “it’s all about the leverage”; “you’re approaching from the wrong angle” and "visualize the hole". You would think I was holding in my inept hand some kind of subatomic particle splitter cleverly masquerading itself as a roughly machined, crude shank of metal by the level of complexity he assigns to the operation of said device.

It’s a freaking screwdriver! It’s not that hard! Or at least, wouldn’t be if he would only keep the battery of the electric screwdriver I brought to the relationship properly charged. But no – he’s got this warped love/hate relationship going with the tool where he loves the big comfy grip of it, and loves how you can quickly switch from phillips head to standard head, but he only uses it in locked/ manual mode which makes the magic that is the electrical power absolutely redundant. Which would be fine if he would just leave the battery in the charger so it’s good to go when I need it. But again, no. Apparently the heaviness of the battery provides a great deal of the heft that makes the device so appealing to my dear husband in its dumb, inanimate state. So he leaves it dead in the toolhandle, sadly bereft of its magical electric charge.

For the record, I bought the damned electric screwdriver back in my single days for assembling furniture and the like because I don’t really see the point of getting my hands cramped up doing such a simple task as torquing a screwdriver when I can get my pals Black & Decker to do it for me. Apparently some men feel differently. Why have a machine do what your hands can do just as well? They think. These are the same men who watch Yankee Woodcrafter on PBS. And I imagine, are a little intimidated by the battery powered toy collections of their women. Sidenote to any such guys in the audience: the problem is the hands often don't do as good of a job. We're just too embarassed to admit it. But I degress.

I must admit, his behavior leaves me feeling a bit betrayed. You see, when we first met I made a point of specifically testing Curt on his M.C.Q (mechanical condescension quotient). Because I find this characteristic in a man that insulting. Not because I’m some kind of Sally the ToolGal expert, but because it is very important to me to figure stuff out and do it myself. Pathetic, I know but I take a great amount of personal pride in my independence. I’ll ask for help when I want/need it, and won’t get too annoyed if you politely offer to help before I ask, but if you rudely INSIST on helping* after I’ve also politely said “no thanks, I can do it/ I want to do it” or Maude forbid, pushing me aside to do it FOR ME all hell will indeed break loose. Because this indicates that you think I am incompetent and are, in fact an insensitive ass.

Back to the test: when he requested a second date, I told him I was planning to replace the sparkplugs in my ’69 Mustang** that night, but he was welcome to hang out with me while I did so. I figured – no truly annoying man prone to mechanical condescension would pass up the opportunity to delve into the engine of a muscle car, and if he did resist the urge to do so (or didn't have it at all) and let me bumble around and do it myself, why then he was a keeper. He proved to be so good about failing to comment or instruct until I asked for his input that I couldn’t help but fall in love.***

Fast Forward: You’d think he’d catch a clue when I gave him that look and said “Honey – I don’t give a flying fuck if I’m not mastering screwdriving technique to your high level of expectations. If it pains you to watch my clumsy attempts than by all means kindly leave me the hell alone. If I need help I’ll ask for it.” But in case he didn't, let me make myself perfectly clear: Before we get a divorce some fateful Christmas Eve after trying to put together Duncan’s first bike or swingset, please use your own damned screwdrivers and leave my electric one alone. Thank you.

Love, your oversensitive wife.

*Now, (like all men who aspire to behave in a chivalrous manner) in Curt’s defense he was taught that it’s rude NOT to offer to help someone. Which is true, provided – if that person a) agrees there is a problem requiring help in the first place and b) agrees they cannot help themselves. If either of these conditions are not met then quite simply, your help is neither needed nor appreciated. So don’t be surprised when it’s not well received.

**Given to me by my Gramma, who bought it new over Grampa’s symbolic dead body after she was physically attacked walking home from work one night (though she didn't tell him that was why). So needless to say I rather enjoy the opportunity to get up to my elbows in oil and personally maintain the car.

*** Apparently I underestimated the cleavage/auto distractability quotient while crafting this test. Later review of that fateful date has shown that he was so intent on the girls peeking over my low cut top while I bent over the engine that he wasn’t paying any attention to what I was or was not doing with the damned sparkplugs. And yes, I am aware that not all men possess the chromosome that instills a fascination with muscle cars. The test was supposed to establish that inclination, as well.

This just stinks like Rummy is finally seriously considering pulling the troops because he knows there’s going to be a shitstorm of epic proportions once the 2nd wave of Abu Ghraib photos/videos comes out and the fecal matter seriously hits the fan. Which leaves me conflicted. Troop pullout is good of course provided there’s some level of security to protect innocent Iraqi civilians from the criminals/terrorists. It might even be good anyway if that would genuinely put a dent in the bombings. But a troop pullout in shame because of atrocities committed in their name? Humiliating. Infuriating. Sickening. I’ll admit there’s a part of me that almost wants the troops to stick around long enough to do enough good to clear our national name. But is my (or our) clear conscious worth putting more innocents at risk with our continued presence? No.

Congress finally planning hearings on "issues raised by the" Valerie Plame leak.

Was that so hard?

Lest we forget...

Karl Rove, Karl Rover, John Robert, John Roberts…..Roxanne reminds us not to forget Taguba.

Remember back during the Abu Ghraib scandal when both Rummy and Seymour Hersh said there were “worse” photos and video that hadn’t been released yet from the Taguba report? Photos/Video that Rummy himself characterized as “blatantly sadistic, cruel and inhuman”?

Apparently the worst was finally supposed to be released this weekend, long after the election and once the public was finally sick and tired of hearing about Abu Ghraib. But the Pentagon blocked the release at the last minute. No reason has been given so far.

As a refresher, the “much worse” in question purportedly includes the video of the rape/torture of not just women who were imprisoned, but their children who were imprisoned as well. And evidence that the women who were passing notes to their men outside begging to be killed for what was being done (and presumably, to their children).

This old post at Boing Boing is a good place to refresh your memory.

I’m already getting sick just thinking about how horrendous the footage must be if Rummy himself called it “inhuman”. 2006 senate races are just around the corner. Remember this mantra: GOP: Proudly torturing children since 2002.

Got Guts?

It's going to take some to get SB1000 passed in anything like it's original form. Today's update - under pressure Minnis did let it go to committee where it was summarily "gutted" (civil union portion replaced with something called "reciprocal rights" which was an earlier alternative bill proposed in the House). Per Also-Also, it still stands a small chance if some gutsy Repubs in the House go ahead and pass the reciprocal rights bill and send it over to the Senate, who can do their own gut & stuff (replacing the reciprocal rights with civil unions); then it would *have* to go to the House floor for a vote in order to reconcile the two. But that's speculation.

Complain all you want about the initiative/ referendum process, but it's bullshit like what Minnis is pulling that forces the people to take matters into their own hands.

Volcano Update

St. Helens keeps building her new dome, generally without incident. But she's had five 3.0+ mag. quakes in the last 6 days which is unusual. Generally a quake of 3.0 rates a news conference so is considered indicative of *something big* happening but they're not speculating on what that might be just yet. I've noticed all the snow has melted off in the last month, so perhaps it's meltwater starting to percolate.

Most recent images (including some night glowing lava) here.

Oh, no... for anybody who keeps track of the more popular Iraqi bloggers, Riverbend tells us that Raed's brother Khalid has been abducted and is being detained by what I gather is the new Iraqi government's version of the Secret Service. Apparently for his blog-related activity. Ever since Salam Pax introduced us to Raed's family (and all their blogs) back during the invasion I've looked to them for the "insider's" civillian view of what's really going on there. And worried about them for making themselves such visible targets of themselves.

When Shrub & the Repubs talk about the need for brave, pro-democratic Iraqi civillians to stand up and stick their necks out to help rebuild their country and build a democracy, these are the kind of people he needs. Educated. Committed. Incredibly patriotic. Freedom loving. You pick the buzz word & they're it. They've done (and continue to do) some amazing humanitarian work given the risk involved. Reading back in their archives you can see just where the U.S. occupation went wrong and how they lost the hearts and minds of everyday Iraqi's.

And this is how that bravery, that commitment is repaid. Please keep Khalid in your thoughts and prayers.

UPDATE:*** Khalid has been freed! Woohoo!

Action Alert

Call/email Oregon Speaker of the House Karen Minnis (Rep) and demand that she allow the Civil Union bill ( SB 1000) to get a vote on the House floor.

Earlier this month the Dem controlled Oregon Senate passed the bill which would give partnered LGBT Oregonians nearly all of the same legal protections of marriage; and add sexual orientation to the state’s existing anti-discrimination laws. The bill is strongly supported by Gov. Kulongoski who has promised to sign it. All the media I've read about this bill to date indicated it would be dead in the water once it reached the Republican controlled House, but I was listening to supporters on Thom Hartmann this morning who are plugging a rally tonight in Salem, and they say they’ve actually got enough Republican votes in the House to pass the bill if only Speaker Minnis would let it come to the floor for a vote.

Up/Down Vote here folks, that's all we're asking.... a little quid pro quo.

Spawnroll

UPDATE:: Looks like GefilteFish may be coming into the final stretch!

For anybody playing along -

Casmir now has a happy, healthy baby brother named Carl. Congratulations, Ms. Polkadot!!

I'm going to have to move Em of Postcards of Grief to the "Spawning Grounds" as she & partner Brooke are busy preparing for the arrival of their own Fry sometime next year. May the River Gods bless you with a swimmingly easy pregnancy and delivery, Em!

And no word yet on the emminent arrival of GetUpGrrl's Gefilte Fish. I think he's stuck in an eddy upstream.....

Backtracking Shrub style...

Let me qualify.... I'll fire anyone in my administration who leaked info. on Valerie Plame, provided they are convicted of doing so criminally, and provided they did so while rubbing their stomach and patting their head at the same time - and wearing nothing but a bathrobe. Now if the ongoing investigation proves *that*, why then I'll think about firing them. Anything shy of that, and we'll probably just let them off if they say they're very, very sorry and promise to never do it again (get caught, that is). 'Cause we know they've got a good heart... and it's the heart that matters (not any actual, you know... treasonous activity).

Born to Party!

Friday I got a call from the sitter – Duncan had spiked a temp of 103, apparently having a reaction to the vaccinations. Poor miserable little guy – we were up most of the night Friday. Saturday he was feeling much better so I took him to get the X-ray the pediatrician had ordered. Which was itself a major ordeal*. But that night? He sleeps through. 8-4am. Sunday, after another nice, long 3 hour nap the Happy Family goes to Grampa’s where he’s dropped off so Mom & Dad can enjoy a flick – Batman Begins (which was pretty damned good, if I do say so) and dinner. Before driving 10 blocks we get a call asking if Duncan can accompany his Auntie K. to the in-laws. Big Mexican family, and apparently a party is in progress where there will be lots of laps to sit on, hugs to be had and new faces to be seen. We give our blessing provided he learns to babble in Spanish by the time he returns and nobody spikes his bottle. He had a great time, but again missed his afternoon nap. By the time we pick him up I’ve got a crushing sinus headache and he’s in full-on Hyde mode. Managed to get him to nap a little after 5 with Daddy. A little after 7, Dr. Jeckyl has awakened – all smiles and babbling with a slight Spanish accent. He goes down for the count around 9, and once again sleeps through until 4 am.
It occurs to me that the few times he’s slept through the night have been following an exhausting day partying with strangers. His first night down at Gramma’s with their friends playing domino’s; our friend M ‘s birthday party. Partido at the in-laws. Our boy’s a party animal. That explains the late night wake-ups! Don’t all the cool kids know the party doesn’t start until 10:30? But seeing as how the authorities might frown on any attempt to leave him with strangers everyday (and I hear in about 4 more months the stranger fear/ separation anxiety should kick in anyway) I’m left thinking maybe a short late afternoon nap, some margarita’s (for us, not him) and a later bedtime might cue the sleep-through trigger and make us all much happier. Failing that, we may re-decorate the nursery in piñatas.

*I know I’m damned lucky to have any insurance at all and others would love this headache. But here’s a perfect example of how things that are supposed to make life easier (i.e. insurance and computers) end up having just the opposite effect when you throw an idiotic admin clerk into the equation. If you want the long boring account continue reading...

Saturday I go to the local small hospital to get the X-ray. Doctor’s order in hand. I give it to the admin clerk who tells me, after 30 minutes of hemming and hawing that she can’t find a freaking insurance diagnostic code in her manual for “birthmark on spine” to enter into the computer and therefore, cannot let me have the x-ray. I ask her how we're supposed to have something called a "diagnostic code" to get the x-ray when we need the x-ray to get a diagnosis, but she neighter grasps nor appreciates the catch-22-esque logic of my question.

My pediatrician's office is closed for the weekend. I’ve already taken off early two days in a row dealing with doctor’s visits and sick child. I’m not going to take more time off on Monday to deal with this shit. My frustration is compounded by the fact that I know my ped faxed the order over to them 2 days ago. You’d think that when they received it, they’d have checked it out, made sure they had everything they needed and you know, maybe called her when the office was open to straighten out the code problem? But no. That would be too damned proactive, I guess.

They have another office that’s opened limited hours on Saturday, so I defy the clerk's "begone frazzled mother with the grossly unkept hair" body language and insist she call over there to get a code. Their on-call doc tells her via his receptionist that he’s not willing to guess what it should be without having the charts on hand. She once again tries to dismiss me. But by now I'm determined that come hell of high water, I WILL get that fucking x-ray done today. So I call the office myself and proceed to make of myself a major pain in the ass. After being on interminable hold, the receptionist agrees to have the doc call me back “soon”. By this time I’ve been dinking around the hospital waiting room for over an hour. We’re both getting cranky, given our sleep-deprived status. I hate being one of those obnoxious parents my mother always complains about who come into the E.R. and make the staff’s life hell. But at this point, I’m not being given much of a choice, am I?

While waiting to hear back from the on-call ped I call dear old Mom to wallow in a teary, expletive-filled account of our dilemma, wondering if there’s some secret healthcare professional password phrase I could utilize to gain entry to the exalted hall of the diagnostic imaging room. Years ago, she used to work at this very hospital. I have fond memories of bringing her milkshakes from the diner down the street when I had a new driver’s license and she worked nights. I thought she might have a better solution than what I had in mind – namely committing the unpardonable sin of just walking the 50 feet across the hall to the emergency room and demanding a doctor look at what’s in all likelihood a totally benign, harmless, absolutely non-emergent patch of pigment on my baby’s ass. Or temporarily stashing Duncan with the kindly grandma in the waiting room while I go ram my car into a pole on the far side of the parking lot in frustration so maybe while they're x-raying me I could convince a kind-hearted tech to snap a few shots of him, too. But then again, there's probably not a diagnosis code for "crazy muthah" either.

She absolved me of guilt for my first inclination, and encouraged me to go with my second instead. Namely, that given the logic that if you’re going to be a pain in the ass, it’s generally more effective to do so in person I should just drive on over to the on-call doc’s office (not far) so he can take a quick peek at said birthmark and give us an appropriate code. After promising to call her back later to make sure I haven’t had a meltdown that’s landed me in rubber handcuffs, we head out – Duncan much happier driving than fussing in the waiting room.

My logic paid off as when I show up in person, the receptionist is oh so apologetic that the doc hasn’t called me back yet. Within 10 minutes the doc (actually a very nice man) pops out into the waiting room, takes a quick peek at the birthmark and the order and says “well, it says right here ‘reason for exam: birthmark on spine’ what’s the problem?” I take a deep breath to let off some steam before exploding into a bawling, frustrated mess and quite calmly say “well, apparently a “reason” isn’t good enough. There’s no computer code for that reason. Without a code, no exam”. “Oh, well then we’ll get you a code”. “That would be delightful, thank you”. 15 minutes later we have the magic diagnostic code 737.52 or some such for some kind of vascular something or other. The receptionist again apologizes, bemoans the fact that insurance just won’t pay without a proper diagnostic code, and off we go back to the hospital. Where we wait another hour before getting the x-ray, at which time the x-ray tech says “sorry about the wait – you came at a really busy time”. I couldn’t help but politely snark, “actually, when we were here the *first time* his morning it wasn’t busy at all”.

Sometimes I think the conservatives who claim introduction of market forces in healthcare make it more efficient must never get sick. Because just about every time I have the sorry luck to have to deal with the healthcare industry, it becomes patently obvious that the fucking requirements of insurance plan bureaucracy do more to muck up the works than any gov’t run system ever could.

Friday Baby Blogging

The Critter discovering toys
Originally uploaded by MsMustangsally.

Quick Critter Update:

He’s the picture of good health – developmentally right on track (and a little advanced in some ways). Yes, there is gum swelling so the Doc. confirms he’s feeling “some discomfort”. Tylenol is OK sporadically but not as a general night time constitutional. Damn. Plot to cruise through infanthood by drugging child comatose has been foiled. Will have to investigate other alternatives. We’ve been given the OK to introduce rice cereal, but probably not any other solids until 6 months. I checked his percentiles – about 60% for weight, 80% for height. Which makes sense as he’s fitting into some of the smaller 6 month clothes.

She was just a little concerned about this birthmark he has on his lower back, right above the diaper line. Said something about “hairy spine” and ordered an x-ray, just to make sure everything’s OK. After talking to my day care provider, I think that’s “don’t freak out the Mom” code for “spina bifida” or some other spinal abnormality. Curt will take him for the x-ray this afternoon. I’m not too worried, yet. Really. I swear! Believe me yet? Yeah, me neither.

I believe we have spawned the rebirth of Dr. Jeckyl/ Mr. Hyde.

The Critter, he is kicking our ass. I knew there would be payback for his angelic first few months…

In the last 2 weeks he has: 1) gained roll-over superpowers; 2) gained his initial certificate of mastery of the hands; 3) suddenly discovered his feet and the magical world of toys; 4) increased his lung capacity 5 fold; and most ominously….5) started teething.

During the day these new developments make him so much fun. He’s all smiles and giggles with the occasional grunt of boredom– wanting nothing more than to PLAY! And STAND! And do sit ups. And reach for the toys and roll off the ottoman. He especially loves dancing with Mommy to tunes on the radio. And bouncing in the bouncer. But come crank-thirty (roughly 6:30 in B.C. (before-child) time they all conspire to create a perfect storm of infantile angst and upset that has resulted in my not getting more than 4-5 hours of sleep a night for the last week. And I’m damned lucky to get a 3 hour chunk all at once. And 5 days a week, the day care provider is the lucky recipient of the daytime angel. Not us.

Where before he would sleep uninterrupted from 8 – 2:30 in his pack-n-go basinet and again from 3:00 to 5:30, he now wakes up at 10:30. On the verge of screaming. With no interest whatsoever in eating, via boob or bottle (he’s usually too impatient/cranky to wait out my regular lactational slowdown in the evenings so that’s nothing new). Sometime around 11:30 he can be coaxed back to dreamland, only to re-awaken around 2. At which time we nurse and go back to sleep as usual**. But then, like the sun after a rainstorm out comes this beauteous smile and laugh at the end of the nap/sleep. His bright blue eyes meet my blurry, blood shot ones and all crankiness is forgiven.

We thought maybe it’s time to wean him off the Miracle Blanket. And discovered that if we put him on his back unwrapped he proceeds to coo and babble and play with his feet, and generally get himself revved up to full consciousness (since obviously it must be play time!) So that won't work. At the same time, we've begun transitioning him from his basinet to his crib since he’s almost gotten too long for the basinet. He'll only fit diagonally, and squirms so much he ends up rubbing his head/feet against the vinyl sides, waking both himself up and me. Up until now the nursery has been mostly a storage room - he hasn't spent any time there. But he's settling in. The cute little Oceans Aquarium music and light projector/ baby monitor is helping quite a bit. Cartoonish fishies swimming on the ceiling is like baby crack, I tell 'ya!

I get some relief giving him Tylenol before bed and again when he stirs around 11:00. The other night, he *just* about slept through after the 2nd dose but I tried to sleep-fed him around 3 (after pumping) to make sure. But I use it sparingly. It's all fine to have him strung out on light shows but I draw the line on getting him addicted to pharmaceuticals. We’ve got our 4 month check up with the pediatrician this afternoon, however and (I never thought I’d say this, but) damn I hope she tells us he IS teething, and gives us leave to administer the magic elixir that is children’s Tylenol at will.

Which is why I haven't been posting much. My synapses are not firing like they should and I can barely form a cohesive thought let alone get it out onscreen. Curt and I have begun communicating in Cro Magnonese, with as few words as possible: "laundry. dryer?" "wha?" "you. put.clothes.in.dryer?" "Ah, no." as I must use what remains of the mush slopping around inside my cranium for more practical purposes. Lik work. And paying bills. There just aren't enough sparks left over at the end of the day to fire anything more profound.

** "As Usual” means either the critter and I kick Curt to the hard, lumpy couch, or we retire there to let him have a turn in the bed. We gave up on all 3 of us co-sleeping in the first few weeks. Curt & are are both rather "robust" in our physiques and there’s not enough room for all of us to sleep comfortably. Without a little breathing room Curt worries he'll roll over on the Critter, and I'm such a light sleeper every little kick/squirm wakes me up.

*** I use the term “sleep” loosely. More like him closing his eyes and being quiet until he loses his pacifier, at which time he starts to fuss. Then the little mental mommy monitor drags my consciousness back from the road to the blissful land of Nod kicking and screaming inorder to retrieve & re-insert the binky in his mouth, which by this time has become a mobile target what with the flailing of the head from side to side, back arching and grunting…. You get the picture - general demonic behavior.

Hummer's Hope

This is absolutely amazing: Photoessay of baby Hummingbirds from hatching to first flight...

Condolences

My heart goes out to the families and victims of this morning's bomb attack in London. And I know I don't say it enough, but also to the victims of the seemingly daily similar attacks in Iraq. It's so easy to fall into the trap of thinking "so what else is new?" when you hear about the ongoing violence there and in other parts of the world. We must remember that every one of those victims is a wife, mother, husband, father, partner or child of someone who cherished them as much as we cherish our own loved ones.

Summer is traditionally high spawning season for teenagers, and while watching the local adolescents engage in their time-honored mating rituals I've been thinking about sex ed again lately. Conveniently, the national press never stops thinking about teenagers having sex either* as evidenced by a couple of recent articles.
Today's MSNBC article Doctors denounce abstinence-only sex ed

Here at RiverRocks we're big on metaphors.

People who believe increased availability to contraception will increase sexual activity have their priorities backwards. It's not their place to impose their own religious views regarding sexuality on others who don't share those views. To the contrary, restricting access of fellow citizens to vital safety measures makes them partly liable for the consequences - increased pregnancy rates, increased abortions and increased STD's. I don't personally believe it's right to risk your life (and those of would-be rescuers) in dangerous sports like mountain climbing, for instance. I would never engage in that kind of risky behavior myself. But it could be argued that the increased availability of safety measures designed for that sport (ropes, gear and emergency locator beacons) encourages people who otherwise wouldn't chance it to engage in an activity that is inherently risky. But nobody advocates restricting the access to that safety gear. And certainly nobody advocates withholding government funding for rescue operations when the foolhardiness of those who do mountain climb imperils their own life and limb. Controlling access to emergency contraception is the moral equivalent of controlling access to mountaineering survival gear.

*let's face it - from Romeo & Juliet to Lolita to, to Porky's and American Pie and on up to the vilest form of "barely legal" pornmongery we as a society have always been fascinated with the sex lives of teenagers. At the same time churches have been preaching abstinence only for 2000+ years. If it hasn't worked yet, what makes them think it will start working now?

Deep Impact successful

Frankly, I find it rather reassuring that we can hit a comet 268 Million miles away when we really want to.

Didn't see this one coming

Justice O'Conner announces retirement.

Shit. Everyone expected Rehnquist, which wouldn't be so bad since replacing a conservative with a conservative wouldn't be that big of a change. But O'Conner is often a key swing vote. Hell's bells!

It's gonna get ugly, people... really ugly.