Substantial posting will resume shortly, but today, I want to talk about wuv. Tw wuv. The kind that “will fowow you foweva…”

The rock shop is a place where one can fall in wuv several times in an afternoon. So it’s interspecies. Don’t judge me.

Wex was just a fling, though, a passing fancy, two ships passing in the night (one with rather larger teeth than the other). Twu, enduring wuv can be found with a bodiless reptilian head, granted. But there’s something to be said for someone who can do more than bite.

I wanted to introduce my latest love interest.

I know he’s no fashion plate. But he’s certainly manly. And who can resist a skull-topped stick held together with duct tape? Very chic.

I’m afraid this romance shall be short-lived, however. Now that Obama has admitted that same-sex marriage is not an abomination (do you see what I did there? This is how humorous I am when I’m still discombobulated), I’m afraid I’ll be leaving him for another woman. Nothing personal, it’s just that the rabid right assures me that love, marriage and civilization itself are ending because two people of the same sex have been told by the President of the United States that he doesn’t mind if they make their love official, and who am I to question their judgment? So I’ll be haunting kitschy tourist traps looking for that special someone, a cavewoman after my own heart, so that we can get gay married and help move America “one step closer to becoming like secular, post-Christian Europe.”

I’m so sorry, Grog, but I want America to become more like secular, post-Christian Europe, so sacrifices must be made. But I will never forget the special times we had.