Some pleasant reflections from last Sunday:
The Supreme Court rules that everybody doesn't have to buy health insurance but everybody has to have a shed.
The Latter Day Saints announce that Mormonism will henceforth go with something a little more plausible.
Every dog-peter gnat in the world perishes from a cause unknown.
The Duggars agree to try a different approach — something called restraint.
The United States says it will leave Afghanistan by the end of April if the bad guys there make a solemn promise that they'll straighten up and fly right.
Op-ed insipidity is held to be a violation of the First Amendment; WSJ is first charged; second, cretins closer to home.
Department of Agriculture predicts big comeback this spring of big succulent tasty pink tomatoes.
A liberal psycho, too wimpy even to carry a gun, pulls out all of Karl Rove's nose hairs on live TV.
Mitt R. thinks better of equipping his lavish California pad with a high-dollar car elevator. Or his handlers think better of it for him, and go to Plan B.
Rev. Franklin Graham agrees to take a vow of silence after admitting that every time he's opened his mouth for several years now something stupid has come out.
Ann Coulter admits that just the thought of Joe McCarthy makes her hot.
Iran leaders give up fanaticism, return to sanity after successfully completing a Dale Carnegie course.
New York Times calls Bentonville "one of the most cosmopolitan small cities in the country"; Pine Bluff files complaint, says it, not Bentonville, deserves the accolade.
Mild winter results in overabundance of ticks, but hey — they're an extra good source of protein. (Boil them first, of course, as a precaution against Lyme.)
State legislators who own and operate hallelujah Jesus schools admit it's unconstitutional and unconscionable to ask taxpayers to finance them.
Kansas legislature votes to require resident females who have impure thoughts to have vaginas sewn up.
Confederate veterans organizations mull the bitter cup of finally acknowledging that the Civil War is over and was lost, but insist on sweetening the acceptance with a last word of encouragement to diehard partisans: We'll get 'em next time. Another way of saying fergit hell.
Catholic bishops concede that there might be areas of human conduct that are none of their business.
Baseball hitches up its britches, spits, gets the bullpen going, turns on the corn popper, and preps for new season to be played out under the new MLB motto, Slow as molasses, but steroid-free.
Charles Krauthammer passes in front of a mirror that shows a reflection.
Stinky L. submits to the indignity of his weekly bath after his latest and proudest avoidance strategy, playing dead, fails to fool anybody.
Scientists say man-caused global warming is bad but could be worse as the human race has possibly 100 years left. At least 50.
Miss Jane passes, immediately takes up new post as a WalMart-style greeter at the Pearly Gates, telling new arrivals, according to her obituary, "Honey, come on inside. Let me introduce you to everyone's best friend, Jesus Christ."
The Easter bonnet with lots of frills upon it comes back into fashion. Wear one to the big Easter parade and you're sure to look demure in the rotogravure.
Spa flack calls Oaklawn slots loosest west of Tunica and east of Tahlequah. Oaklawn brass thankful for the pub but say their machines aren't slots. They may look like slots, sound like slots, whirr and flash like slots, and relieve you of your legal tender the same way, but they're not slots. No, really. Call them slotnots if you must, but not slots.
Frogs return from edge of extinction to fill warm nights with hearty ribbets. Bees still doing their Amelia Earhardt, however.
Texas schoolbook oversight board relents, admits Thomas Jefferson might have been as notable a historical figure as Phyllis Schlafly, and maybe as important a political thinker as Newt Gingrich.
Huckabuck asks to return as Arkansas governor just long enough to pardon a vanload of killers to take back to Florida as cheap labor finishing the gruntwork on his beachfront mansion.
Mark Pryor belatedly grows a pair but isn't sure what they're for.
House Speaker says he will devote congressional spring-break recess to working on his orange.
Jerry Lee Lewis, 76, who's married as often as the Duggars have whelped, does it again; forecasts a whole lotta wedding-night shaking and great balls of fire.