Oh, laughter.

Being barefoot at work while you're alone in the office is the new secretly farting in your desk chair.

It's about time, my cross-eyed love. And by love I mean horrible nightmare with a stutter. And while I'm at it, may I say that the abuse being delved out with a wink and a smile at the Abu Ghraib prison is to be expected when your own president believes that all Arabs are going to hell. Nice example, douchebag.

Speaking of douchebags, looks like Rummy is here to stay. Whew! I was scared for a minute there that Bush might do the right thing. And by right thing I mean eat crow, grow a heart, or maybe just some lips.

Rush Limbaugh referred to the abuse at Abu Ghraib as a "fraternity prank." I'm sure it was just the OxyContin talking. That or his waddle.

I feel the previous is one-sided and unfair. Yes, I'm lashing out. Mainly because for the first time in my 24 years I am ashamed of my fellow Americans. Congratulations, everybody hates us. Even the Japanese.

In other, more pressing matters, a little show called Amigos or something like that is ending. Pass the guac. And then pass the remote. Good luck, NBC. I'm sure Miss Match is going to be huge.

I finally saw the new Britney Spears video, otherwise known as "Stephen Dorff?!?" Didn't he get punk'd, and doesn't that make him therefore obsolete? Britney's hair is a big pile of soggy noodles, and during her death scene a paler, fatter body double is employed. I think it was Anna Nicole Smith pre-OxyContin, I mean TrimSpa. Anyway, somehow Britney's head starts bleeding and she dies. But then she doesn't die. It's all very profound in that "Wow. I wish she'd die," kind of way. (Just kidding. I love my little BritBrit. It's just a phase she's going through.)

Star magazine reported last week that there would be no Sex and the City movie. I was upset until I watched an episode from Season 5, which is the season when Carrie transformed from frizzy-haired nymph into a skinny-necked and new-lipped annoyance. The show ended gracefully, full of drama and shoes, and that's how I want to remember it. Just call me Kim Cattrall.

You heard it here first: Lindsay Lohan will one day be fat. More predictions: so will Hilary Duff.

Anyhoo, Sunday is Mother's Day. I'm getting my mom indicted on fake criminal charges so she won't be able to vote (she's Republican) this year. I know. You're welcome!