Thursday tells of one reason why Sudiegirl will never be a nature show host, the usual news weirdness, plus Sudiegirl's plea to the blogging community

Raul Castro remains in Fidel's shadow
(Well, it's probably cooler there.)

Greetings, y'all!

Gee - I'd say, it's still hot out there, but everyone knows it and is sick of hearing it so NOT a WORD will come from these lips about the temperature.

However, I've got other things to say...so deal with it.

First of all, as much as I love D with every fiber of my being, he did something yesterday that scared the bejeezus out of me. No...he didn't kill someone in front of me or anything that ghoulish.

We were coming home last night, and while I stopped to talk to someone and admire their dog (something that D humors me about, but goes on his merry way anyway and leaves me behind), he found a BAT. Not baseball, either. We're talkin' the little winged critter with the ugly face.

I know there are no vampire bats here in the DC area. Intellectually, I know this, but I can't convince my nerve endings and "flight or fight" syndrome about this.

My first response was one that befitted the mature woman-of-the-world that I am, and it went something like this: "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

(So I lied.)

D was like, "What's wrong with you? It's just a little bat."

I responded, "Well, it could have rabies or athlete's foot or something. Ick. Ick, ick, ick...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" (Bravery, thy name is Sudiegirl.)

Then, I inched along the wall to the door to our apartment building, in fear that D would make me look at it or touch it or something. If it were me, I'd be beating it with the nearest blunt instrument and screaming, with every breath in my ample lungs, "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

(I know, it's cliche, but it's what would happen - TRUST me!)

So I went upstairs, well ahead of D. I calmed down, figuring the worst was over, right?

HAHAHAHAH. Uh- huh.

D brought the little bugger in to give it water! ICK. ICK. ICK.

(You thought I was going to say, "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!", didn't you? Come on, admit it.)

Calmly, I asked, "What do you think you're DOING?"

D replied, "Well, I'm trying to help him...I'm giving him some water."

I'm not an animal abuser, believe me. Really. But BATS in my house are unacceptable, and I don't care if they've signed up with the Make-A-Wish foundation...they're not drinking from MY FAUCETS.

I rolled my eyes and went back into the living room. I know it was an ordinary fruit bat, but you couldn't tell my fear factor that...I know it had bloodsucking fangs somewhere in its little head.

Anyway, D played good samaritan to the incapacitated bat, and then he took it out of my house (whew!) and put it back where he found it. He came home and held out his hands, saying "See? No more bat!"

I told him to wash his hands before he could even come near me.

This morning the bat was gone - and really, I was fine with that. I could just imagine what he told his little bat buddies:

"God - you'll never believe what happened to me. I got stuck in someone's hedge last night, and this fat lady was screaming and some big man tried to make me drink water out of the TAP! Can you imagine? EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

(Hey, it was the bat, not me.)

OK - now that you've heard the bat story, let's head to the wacky world of news, shall we?

First up - this Mel Gibson thing will not die! From the "I really wish this story would just fade away, but even I'm caught up in the intrigue" files, there's still more to be learned about.

If you click HERE, you'll see that Mel was invited to speak at the Yom Kippur services in the Temple of the Arts. Hmmm...Yom Kippur is coming right up - do you think he'll be out of rehab by then? Something tells me that he may want to wear body armor if he knows what's good for him...just in case. (I know that sounds harsh, but let's just say that this rabbi is handling the situation better than I ever would.)

If you click HERE, even the Pacific Coast Highway is getting press out of this. Great. A road that kills some people and jails others gets more press than I do.

And HERE, you can read about REAL people's opinions on the whole matter. They're pretty much what I expected them to be, but still worth reading.

Now, in a humanitarian turn here at Rancho Sudiegirl - as you read yesterday, Tori Spelling is sad because she's only getting $800,000 for her inheritance from dear dead daddy Aaron Spelling. (SARCASM ZONE...)

Your dear pal Sudiegirl does not have a heart of stone. (It's more like particle board, but ANYWAY...)

In an effort to bring the blogging community together in one cohesive loving unit (stop me if you're going into diabetic shock), the good folks here at Rancho Sudiegirl have put together the "Save Tori From Being An Ordinary Person Foundation."

Here is our logo (forgive me if it's primitive - I am still learning all this):

I mean, just look at the poor thing - her clothes barely cover her, her chest is swollen with some sort of respiratory disease, and her man can't afford a new t-shirt or shampoo to wash his hair with.

I'm appealing to you, the members of the blogging community, to reach out to someone less...uh...clueless than yourselves. If you have tips for Tori on how to bargain shop, how to save money, how to make tuna casserole without tuna, or other helpful hints, please help by leaving your ideas in the comments of this entry. Tori needs us!

(Please note that this is total satire, and I am not requiring money of any sort - just funny hints to "help Tori" through these troubled times.)

Reach out and touch someone - if you have to.

Sudiegirl