Again, I apologize, I seem to have been missing for another week or so.  Life is like that, sometimes.  Chalk it up to some needed down time and a family reunion.

So one of the 'big' stories on my return to the blog world was the whole Rachel Ray kerfluffle over her scarf?

So initially I assumed there was some dark sinister message hidden in her headgear, but then I saw the picture you see to the right.

And I don't get it.

Oh, I get the fact that it is somewhat similar to a kaffiyeh, the traditional Arab headdress worn by our enemies in the middle east.

But at the same time, it is a scarf, around the neck of a woman who hosts a TV cook show, and who has never to my knowledge made a single political stance on the war or on Islamfacism.

The sexpresso craze I first blogged about here, and then again here, continues to grow and flourish here in the Pacific Northwest, the home of Starbucks, the unofficial caffeine capital of the US.

The concept is really a no brainer.  Dress the baristas up in sexy clothes and see if they draw business.

Duh.  Of course they will.  You don't really think Hooters is still around for the food do you?  Seriously?

The latest craze started when a Bonney Lake mom, kids in the car with her, went through a Hot Chick-a-Latte stand, and the barista was wearing pasties. 

OK, that might be pushing it a bit, but then again some bikinis don't cover much more.

She has decided to organize a protest.  All well and good, though voting with her wallet is usually the most effective.  I do have to laugh at her stated intention of starting a clothing drive…Ma'am, I don't think lack of clothing is the problem here…

As this election season drags on, and the GOP, lead by it’s new standard bearer, John “Maverick” McCain, lurches even further to the center-left than it had already been drifting; and given the near third party status of the Republicans in Washington State (after the Democrat party, and Really Democrat Party) , I am finding myself out in right field, without a Party to support.

I am not alone, by any stretch of the imagination.  There are many others out here.  We can see each other, and even converse with each other, commiserating in our sad new existence.