1.  I’m a little envious of Mrs. Wigglebottom.  She’s sleeping on the afghan and looking so cute I just about can’t stand it.  I love her freckly nose.

2.  I’m a little more envious of The Nashville Knucklehead.  If I could write like him, I’d quit my job and spend my days locked in my house masturbating and writing sentences like “As I was falling, I heard a very loud scream. Much to my surprise, it was me. ”  I would quickly starve to death and die, but it would be a life well-lived.

3.  I’m a little envious of Newscoma, who meets the divine Patrick, who says, “Damn, having Bush do a probe on gasoline and oil is like putting a pedophile in a preschool.”

4.  I’m very envious of our Wayward Boy Scout.  No, it’s not just because he’s got this sweet old disconcerting way about him that he keeps hidden behind a thin veneer of scary right-wing propaganda.  It’s also because how awesome would it be to have someone as cool as me constantly flirting with me? 

Does Kleinheider appreciate how awesome it is when I flirt with him?  No.  Apparently once you become a professional right-wing pundit, you want to be teased by other professional pundits, not us lowly amateur ones.  Your loss, Kleinheider.  If you won’t flirt back, I’ll just move on to Terry Frank.

Oh, wait, Frank is in favor of heteronormativity.  I guess it could never work between us, then.  That’s too bad, because she’s like our very own Nancy Grace.  It’s kind of cute.