Though I stopped giving my wife gifts the day before we were wed, I’m still aware of the traditions in our society that plague men who weren’t as shrewd at nuptial negotiations as I. As Valentine’s Day quickly approaches, I’m reminded that nearly every holiday on the calendar has been carefully designed as a trap for other men, by women, to break their spirit. Sad, sorry men, who will inevitably emerge from each of these “festive” events feeling as if they are a severe disappointment to the women in their lives, they will transfer that feeling of failure from that where it belongs, onto themselves and shoulder the burden alone.

Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, Anniversaries, Secretary’s Day…all diabolically crafted by the fairer sex to maximize the perceived romantic shortcomings men will deliver on each. And for some reason, men continue to allow it.

But not me, I asked long ago: When is it our turn to be disappointed in women?

Then I answered my own question: You mean other than every day of the year?

To which I replied: Yes. You must cancel Valentines Day and repurpose the date for your own reward!

And so I did.

I suggest you “men” read carefully because I figured out a solution to this problem that I think could help many of you.

Though I’d already forbidden most ceremonies and holidays in my home other than my birthday and Christmas, It was time to banish Valentines Day and replace it with a holiday I created in my own honor. I called it “Sausage Day” and it continues as a tradition in our family.

No, Sausage Day isn’t a day to enjoy the fruits of the Hog, but instead it’s a day where the man of my house (me) is served obediently by my women as my reward for the hard work I’ve done over the year. A day that I’ve named as a subtle nod to one of God’s most amazing physical accomplishments—the male genitals. More specifically, my genitals.

Sausage Day is a day where I don’t lift a finger. And though my recent medical conditions have forced me to spend many days not lifting my fingers, in previous years this day was in stark contrast to every other day where a more physically potent Speide Bahl was capable of rising from the motorized chair I’m now confined to and spread my elbow’s grease as I saw fit. Sausage Day is a day where those who are special to me, and more importantly I am special to, bring me gifts that I may cast a disappointed gaze over and dismiss with an indifferent glance as revenge for the many holidays where they’d do the same to me had I not banished them all years ago.

Take pause weak men, and take control of your lives before the very thing that gives Sausage Day its name is taken from you completely.

Many agree that women should be allowed at least some voting rights on certain things, especially those related to domestic issues in the home. But when are womens’ voting rights more important than the welfare of our society—or national security?

Interestingly enough, women were first allowed to vote only when their husband’s were unable to. Presumably the idea was that they would cast an identical vote to that of their husband had he been able to cast it himself. This practice began with Mrs. Josiah Taft—or Lydia Taft as she’s known to most—when she was allowed to vote on a few local matters beginning in the year 1756. This “right” was granted to her due to the untimely and disorganized death of her husband, a prominent land owner with varied local interests that required input from his estate. Since he was already dead, they allowed the old lady to vote for him.

Though history is very kind to these events as they relate to women’s rights, it’s pretty clear to me that in reality Mrs. Taft’s participation was a complete disaster since after this initial proof-of-concept ran its course women weren’t allowed to officially vote again in the United States until 1893 when Colorado was blue-balled into submission, followed shortly after by my two spineless adopted home states: Liberal-pandering Utah and Gay-harboring Idaho.

Finally in 1920 the controversial 19th Amendment was ratified and we’ve been paying for it ever since with a seemingly endless string of vagina-sympathizing leaders starting with Warren G. Harding in 1921 (1 year after the 19th became law)—considered by most to be one of the least effective, most politically impotent presidents ever to have held office. Fortunately he died of a heart attack before he was able to do too much damage to anyone but himself.

As with many things in life, when the squeaky wheel gets lubricated nobody pays attention to it any longer. Now that women have the constitutional right to vote, nobody has stopped to see how it’s working out.

It’s time to start asking some hard questions…actually, the questions are pretty easy, let’s just ask them.

Is the world a better place now that women can vote?

Why can’t she do her duties to begin with? Men have a lot to worry about already.

The answer to these question is mostly, “no”, though some are “yes”…and a few require further elaboration. The point is that we’re no better off now than we were hundreds of years ago before anyone had even heard of Lydia Taft.

Everything that was bad before they could vote is still plaguing us. But now, we find ourselves losing some of the good things that we had prior to their being able to vote because women spend all their time voting for things, having kids without men, and taking our jobs.

It’s time to stop ignoring centuries of evidence that clearly shows that women voting simply doesn’t work. I hear a lot about a woman’s right to choose. It’s time we men exercise our own right to choose and we should choose that women can’t vote anymore.

In Paradise California the Dominguez family survived for three days in the snow after being lost in the wilderness while searching for a Christmas tree. The children wrote “Help” in the snow with their pee while the rest of the family sang and prayed in a culvert.

It would be the perfect heart-warming Christmas story if it weren’t about illegal aliens from a broken home poaching trees.

I’m not talking about the cosmic joke, I’m talking about the time you all wasted trying to frame Idaho Senator, Larry Craig, for being a homosexual. Turns out he was going to quit anyway.

Craig spokesman Dan Whiting also confirmed to CNN that Craig had already decided not to run for re-election, and originally planned to announce that publicly in September.

As most of my fellow members of ASS (Amateur Spacer Society) will attest, as soon as the incident with bediapered astronaut, Lisa Nowak, occurred—I immediately said “Suicide Mission Candidate.”

Of course I was talking about our immediate need for American astronauts willing to sacrifice their lives for the greater good, primarily the good of science and exploration. It’s been clear from the beginning that our current technologies for space travel are inadequate to support round-trip missions to the deepest corners of our solar system. Manned missions to the outer reaches of our solar system are only possible if we don’t send enough fuel and materials for a return trip. The big question has always been: “Who would we send?”

We’ve always known it should be a woman astronaut, especially during this time of war when all able-bodied men need to stay Earth-side in the event they’re needed for the war effort—either in a traditional sense, or even to drop bombs from space—but our weak-stomached society of pansies can’t take the thought of sacrificing someone for science, or anything else. Well, I believe the choice has been made for us.

Who better to send on a one way-trip to the cosmos than someone who has proven her own inability to be a productive member of society AND has all the necessary qualifications as an astronaut? Lisa Nowak is not just a qualified candidate, she’s our only hope.

I proposed at an ASS meeting a few months ago that we impregnate Nowak and send her along on her mission. The impregnation would serve to not only keep her busy during the long flight, but also to possibly help ensure the propagation of our species on other planets…as long as she has twins and they also breed when they arrive.

There are some details to work out, but it looks like the process is starting sooner than I expected. Yesterday, Orange County Circuit Court Judge Marc Lubet paved the way for her exodus by ordering her cumbersome ankle-bracelet to be removed.

Today, Texas. Tomorrow, the universe.

Idaho, long known to be one of the straightest states in the union, is home to Republican Senator, Larry Craig. Craig is the most recent conservative to be viciously targeted by homosexual liberals—apparently for conversion to the gay lifestyle.

Earlier this month while innocently making a number two in an airport restroom, the Senator is accused by a police officer of “tapping his right foot”, which is known by the gays “as a signal used by persons wishing to engage in lewd conduct.” The report also claims that Craig “touched the officer’s foot with his foot” and “proceeded to swipe his hand under the stall divider several times,”

My question is this: How would this officer know what the gay signals are, unless he himself is a gay? And if he is a gay, how can he be trusted to enforce the law, after he himself has likely broken many of Idaho’s tight sodomy laws?

Many teenagers who grew up in the age of The Village People went into law enforcement and construction (probably some Indians too) as a way to live out their vacant lives in character as their favorite homosexual role model. It’s no surprise to me to hear that a police officer knows the detailed secret gestures known by the gays, myself, and very few others.

This officer sounds like a man with an agenda—or perhaps a bruised ego after being rejected in an airport bathroom by a certain senator?

Either way, this is the most preposterous allegation I’ve read in some time. Despite several previous attempts by others to besmirch Craig’s reputation by making claims about his propensity to participate in homosexual activities with male senatorial pages, indulge in occasional cocaine use, and even engage in as many as four previous sexual escapades—some even in other bathrooms—notably, in Washington’s Union Station—his sexuality is well documented by his voting record against the homos.

God bless Senator Craig and the work he’s done in service to his country. Shame on gay police officers for turning what Craig himself has explained to be his “wide stance” while defecating, into a clearly subjective invitation to participate in gay sex.

I might also question the mindset of any officer who would consider participating in such activities immediately following the evacuation of one’s bowel. I think his badge should be taken and he should be monitored with an ankle bracelet to ensure he does not enter any public restroom facilities in the future.

Prince Charles’ ghastly wife, Camilla, has elected to forgo her attendance of her husband’s first wife, Princess Diana’s memorial party. Camilla egotistically says that her attendance at the event will “divert attention from the purpose of the occasion…” Evidently nobody informed her which of Prince Charles’ wives the world gives a crap about.

I understand that it’s technically possible that Camilla is just fearful that the same CIA-assassination fate that befell her predecessor may also befall her—but I find that scenario to be highly unlikely. It seems far more plausible that she simply feels her impact on the world is more significant than it is.

One of the biggest problems facing us Pro-lifers is how ugly fetuses are. I have long held the belief that this is a large reason many pro-abortionists fear being saddled with children, they see how ugly the fetus is and panic. Another trend that appears to be on the rise is the disposal of newborn babies, either in dumpsters or designated drop-off facilities. This likely stems from the fact that newborns are not much more attractive than fetuses, typically gray and wrinkled—covered in blood, and often, their own feces. They look more alien than human (not really, aliens actually have very slender bodies, but the coloring is similar)

I’ve though that the best way to overcome this challenge is through the caricaturization of the fetus as a fun, playful, cute thing—or even an action hero. It worked during WWII when we were able to use cartoon drawings of big-toothed Chinamen to turn the world against the Japanese. After the war we saw a world vacant of such propaganda and perceptions about the Chinese returning back to their normal state. Without the imagery of the evil Orientals, you find events occurring like Jackie Chan starring alongside an African American-colored man in a hit action movie.

The same thing can be done for the fetus that was done for the Orientals…only the other way around. We can introduce the fetus as a Saturday-morning cartoon action-hero for boys, or even a cuddly plaything for girls. For adults, things are already on the move. This Fox News article tells the tail of the first socially-networked fetus, “Bubba.”

Now I don’t know much more about Social Networking sites than I’ve learned from being on MySpace, but I do know that if little Bubba ever gets evacuated from his current environment, there are going to be a lot of angry private message being sent by his network of friends. Perhaps if more fetuses had a web presence it would help us keep track of them, and help their mothers think twice before terminating a pregnancy. After all, it’s one thing to make a quick trip to a clinic…it’s something else to have to answer 100 angry e-mails and delete an account.

I’m not going to get involved in a debate on the matter, but suffice it to say I do have an opinion. So did Pittsburgh Post-Gazette reporter Paul Zeise, but apparently it’s not the right one because he’s been removed from the sports TV show he was on.

I would encourage you all to consider your own answer to the question very carefully in case a situation ever arises that you are forced to make the decision.

I’ve been using this kit, but it costs about $50 and I go through about one a month, which I’m willing to continue if I have to, but would like alternatives if they are available.