omygawdomygawdomyGAWD! Mel Gibson's house might burn down!

Went to get something to eat at the supermarket next door, and the daily papers are on a stand near the check-out. And all of them have lots of fearsome photos of the fires in California on the front page above the fold.

The most knuckleheaded of them informed me of this terrible fate threatening Mel in bold print above one. And beneath.... Malibu threatened. Hollywood stars to lose their homes. Ten thousands fleeing.

For a split second, I actually considered sending my lunch money to one of the afflicted stars, as a gesture of solidarity. But only for a split second.

Pavlov. Dog. The usual.... And they didn't name any of the others on the front page, and I wasn't about to buy that rag, so I decided to eat anyway. Can save tomorrow's for the deserving. And fast, and send them five Euros, yup. The other 'serious' ones also focussed on Malibu.

No, I wouldn't give my lunch money to Mel. His fate is payback for his terrible films and especially for the second last one, quoting Margaret Cho here, God yelling 'That is not what I MEANT!' After having given him a second chance with the Aztec one, but it wasn't enough. Payback can be devastating. C'est la vie, eh?

So now am going to take my tongue WAAY out of my cheek.

See how the dumbing down in the media begins? Before going shopping I read there were 260,000 people fleeing their homes according to the AP. Not 'tens of thousands'. As still purported on their online version.

As if the numbers fucking matter. It represents hundreds of thousands of tragedgies. There were emergency diaries on Daily Kos, people about to lose everything, one woman trying desperately to save her horse, and the shelters mostly don't take them. People about to lose everything they worked all their lives for. And am willing to bet that an awful lot of those people weren't sufficiently insured, and are about to lose everything. But what sells papers?

'The 'stars' are gonna lose their hoooommmmes.' Well dears, am sure they were sufficiently insured, and if not, they can fire their managers and find some work.

HerrGottnochmalfixsakramenthallelulja! Asswipe journalists. Sophomoric cliques who haven't a clue. But in the club, oh yes. And meanwhile, from a class who haven't one small empathetic feeling in their entire bodies.

Wouldn't it be better to profile people in need? Nah, boring.

The press belong to the vulture class of animal. And they sure knows how to feed, Preciousses, oh, yes.

So, now off to make some chicken soup for Barbara Streisand JUST in case. I don't know how to get it there, things being what they are, and especially without spoiling. But if worse comes to worst, I can always eat it myself. My Mom always said, 'It's the thought that counts'.....