I say it all the time, but report cards are my one bitch about work. They're so utterly pointless and frequent and no one lets me write, "Look, you make your child come here on the weekend. They hate it. Can't you understand this?"

Turns out that the brain dead American woman, Terri Schiavo, died last night. In principle, I agree with letting her die, but I got to tell you, starving her to death over two weeks is harsh. Strikes me that they should have just euthanasied her, let her go quickly and quietly. If that was my brain dead body, that's how I'd want to go. But then if they had done that, I wouldn't have had the whole sad mess beamed into my world, and how less richer in the World's Fucked Up Moments would I be? Still, at least I'm not one of those pro-life people who expressed support to Schiavo's parents, as they plan to sell the contact details of all who expressed support to a direct mailing list for an undisclosed amount.

That's the kind of thing that happens when you're not pro-choice, though.