I felt the same way with the series finale of Friends … the series finale of Sex and the City … and now I have to feel empty with the loss of my current favorite program, The L Word. Yes, ladies, our favorite group of Los Angeles lesbians is breaking up after six seasons, Showtime says. Ilene Chaiken, L Word creator, is in the process of creating eight final episodes to wrap up the series … which in and of itself is distressing because every other season has twelve or thirteen episodes, but Chaiken seems to think that everything can be “wrapped up” in eight episodes. Yeah, we’ll see.

Either way, it’ll be a sad ‘n empty Sunday night for me at the end of this.

Thanks for the tip, Shazzer.

I love British news. I check BBC News regularly, and it’s more often than not that they highlight a story that just makes my day.

We’ve all heard the stories about Welshmen (and New Zealanders, for that matter) and their sheep, as well as Catholic priests and their little children, but one little occurrence that goes overlooked is perhaps the most bizarre: blue-collar men and their inanimate objects.

We travel now to Wiltshire, UK, where a man has just been arrested for - get this - having sex with a lamp post. The 32-year-old was, for all intents and purposes, humping a lamp post outside of an apartment complex where a number of young women lived.

Oh, but that’s not all. Last week a Polish man was found allegedly having sexual relations with a vacuum cleaner. Despite claiming that he was merely “cleaning his underpants … common practice in Poland,” he was quickly fired from his job. Poor Henry never saw it coming. The ironic part is, I had a Henry in each of my flats at university. And, no, I never “cleaned my underwear” with him.

Both of these come at the tail end of two other stories involving men and, well, non-humans. Back in 2007, a 51-year-old got drunk, did naughty things to his bicycle, and was sentenced to a three-year probation. He was recently listed on a sex offenders registry for “sexual breach of the peace.” And around the same time, a 24-year-old drunk guy broke into Leicester Square Gardens and got up to some hanky panky with a fence.

But I guess it’s not fair to just pick on the strange characters of Great Britain.

An Indian man, erm, in India, was so convinced that he had been cursed after stoning to death two dogs that he did the obvious: he married one. The wedding, which was attended by 200 people, was a huge success, I’ve heard, except for the minor incident of having a runaway bride, though of course they found her again and shortly thereafter consummated the marriage … by feeding the dog a bun and some milk.

Meg’s mom sends us stuff pretty regularly regarding current events and political theory. The one that follows is a bit off the beaten path so far as her emails are concerned, but I thought it was great. Read on.

Socialism
You have 2 cows.
You give one to your neighbour.

Communism
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and gives you some milk.

Fascism
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and sells you some milk.

Nazism
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and shoots you.

EU Bureaucratism
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both, shoots one, milks the other, and then throws the milk away.

Traditional Capitalism
You have two cows.
You sell one and buy a bull.
Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows.
You sell them and retire on the income.

Surrealism
You have two giraffes.
The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.

An American Corporation
You have two cows.
You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows.
Later, you hire a consultant to analyse why the cow has dropped dead.

Enron Venture Capitalism
You have two cows.
You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so that you get all four cows back, with a tax exemption for five cows.
The milk rights of the six cows are transferred via an intermediary to a Cayman Island Company secretly owned by the majority shareholder
who sells the rights to all seven cows back to your listed company.
The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on one more.
You sell one cow to buy a new president of the United States , leaving you with nine cows.
No balance sheet provided with the release.
The public then buys your bull.

The Anderson Model
You have two cows.
You shred them.

A French Corporation
You have two cows.
You go on strike, organise a riot and block the roads, because you feel you should have three cows.

A Japanese Corporation
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.
You then create a clever cow cartoon image called ‘Cowkimon’ and market it worldwide.

A German Corporation
You have two cows.
You re-engineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and milk themselves.

An Italian Corporation
You have two cows, but you don’t know where they are.
You decide to have lunch.

A Russian Corporation
You have two cows.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
You count them again and learn you have 2 cows.
You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.

A Swiss Corporation
You have 5000 cows. None of them belong to you.
You charge the owners for storing them.

A Chinese Corporation
You have two cows.
You have 300 people milking them.
You claim that you have full employment, and high bovine productivity.
You arrest the newsman who reported the real situation.

An Indian Corporation
You have two cows.
You worship them.

A British Corporation
You have two cows.
Both are mad.

An Iraqi Corporation
Everyone thinks you have lots of cows.
You tell them that you have none.
No-one believes you, so they bomb the **** out of you and invade your country.
You still have no cows, but at least now you are part of a Democracy.

A New Zealand Corporation
You have two cows.
Business seems pretty good.
You close the office and go for a few beers to celebrate.

An Australian Corporation
You have two cows.
The one on the left looks very attractive.

Damon has an entertaining blog post on his site regarding to the nonsense of happy hour, and the variations he would offer, so I thought I’d share it with the rest of you alcoholics.

“Slightly Peeved and Perturbed Hour” - You get 60 minutes to drink your way into a memory lapse to forget the week’s stupidity. I got to go with Captain Morgan & Coke on this one.

“Emphatically Euphoric and Delighted Hour”- We’ll serve up that fru-fru garbage happy people all love. Pitchers of ‘fuzzy navels’ or ’sex-on-the-beach’ should shut ‘em up.

“Crazed and Out of Your Freakin’ Mind Hour”- Tequila shots aaaaaalll around. Buenas noches, mi amigo.

“Anxiety and Paranoia Hour”- I figure an Irish Coffee should fill the bill. I’m pretty sure the alcohol and the caffeine cancel each other right out. Just like the voices in your head. And if it doesn’t, you won’t worry about being seen leaving the bar with who’s left at 2 am.

“Lonely and Depressed Hour”- Just for fun, I’ve decided to 2 for 1 draft beer is painfully appropriate. You know, that tear in your beer thing. Oh, and each table will only have one chair, so you can sit alone in all your solitary pathetic glory.

“Totally Ticked Hour”- This could be scary. I’ll have to post a disclaimer (and an armed guard). With a bar full of angry workin’ stiffs and enraged alcoholics, I’m servin’, you guessed it, Jack Daniels and Grand Marnier. Just wind ‘em up and watch ‘em go.

Note : Dart league canceled during “Totally Ticked Hour.”

Read the full post here.