ginmar grouses about wartime strictures on shopping for items a female soldier finds to be personal, essential, and almost unobtainable (not even accessible via the Web). I can’t get to Victoria’s Secret any more. That means that Pat Robertson is, in fact, in charge of what we can see and read. And you know, I’m a girl, which means they’re censoring me from looking at halfway decent underwear! Jesus Fucking Christ, if I can be trusted with a fucking weapon, can’t I be trusted with a fucking thong? Because I’m really trying to see what kind of danger this could…

Rance pops up after a long, no doubt busy silence to offer a little more in the “piss ‘n vinegar” line. I’m pretty sure that whatever he’s doing in politics just now, it’s not just “diddling.” And yeah, if he was working for the other side I probably wouldn’t read him as much. It’s easier to hang out with people you mostly agree with than otherwise. Never liked that word “diddling”, by the way. It has unpleasant assocations for me. But it’s nice that Rance took the time to vent, no matter the subject. I’m starting to think there’s a…