Tired Monday

The blah weekend was punctuated by almost getting massively rear-ended on the Superstition Freeway in Phoenix. The boy learned a valuable lesson, distilled to "that's why you always check your mirrors." Anyway, disaster was narrowly avoided via creative use of the no-man's-land between the carpool lane and the regular traffic lane (see skidding vehicles approaching from the rear? check your mirrors and scoot outta the way) and I got an unfortunate closeup of a nasty two-SUV collision inches from my rear bumper.

In other news, the Arizona legislature is scrambling to pass a law criminalizing bestiality, which apparently was removed from the books 30 years ago in a clean sweep of archaic statutes. Too many incidents of this particularly vile brand of animal abuse have been surfacing lately, from the horrific story of a sexually abused and maimed greyhound to a deputy fire chief attempting to boink his neighbor's sheep. It's stuff like this--definitely the greyhound, definitely the fuckheads who skinned a puppy alive last year and dumped it on the rez--that makes me rethink my opposition to capital punishment.

I'm waiting, of course, for the inevitable letters-to-the-editor wondering why bestiality is being punished while that other, you know, heinous sin is being celebrated. Maybe I'll be wrong; I certainly hope so.