Monday's gruel

The last succour of the weekend's warmth wraps some comfort this morning as the ditz blonde right-wing nut-case singsongs Murdoch's "news" to you, laced with lively Falwelled taunts against your soul, Liberty Universitied and zealot think-tanked hireling that she is, to chirp another warning to guard all infants and beasts against your naughty glance. It's Monday, and it's time to know your workplace, little fella. Smile, when you finish your oatmeal. Smile when you've stripped your last strokes in the shaving mirror. Practice the face of Monday, don't let them get you down. You're American.

Besides, remember: there will be lunch. Let them kick themselves to find out how you do it.