Okay! Okay! For goodness sakes, we'll have Christmas AGAIN! Sheesh!

So stop your whining, please.

And I'm sure Jesus is happy that he's won a court battle.

Tempting fate, I know...but I've installed a new comments system.

Speak up! Speak down, for that matter, if you can figure out how to do such a thing.

The Jesus Helicopter.

Enough said.

How much do you need it?

It's one thing for Auntie Mame, with her whiskey swilling and grand gestures, to sing it, but hearing We Need A Little Christmas sung on the radio by a full four-part choral group from years past makes the entire affair take on a manic, desperate aura.

I don't find the song uplifting at all. It sounds like the co-dependent addict's Christmas anthem.

For those of you who pray, could you pray for my cousin, Cheri? My mom just let me know that she was diagnosed with lung cancer and is now in the hospital. She's young, which is both good and bad -- good in the recovery sense, bad in the overall sense.

With the early morning announcement of the Golden Globe nominees, today is the official opening of the gay sports season. Since I've been learning at work that football teams can let you down and since I have no idea where I can catch a hockey game, I've decided to throw myself into this sports season. And as always, I have no criteria other than my own sentimental favorites.

I was glad to see Felicity Huffman get a nomination for "Desperate Housewives," which, for all its soapy-ness, still offers one of the most surprising and entertaining hours on television.

It was also nice to see "The Incredibles" get a big kid nod in the Best Picture category, usually reserved for living, breathing human films.

As for the one to beat, that would be Justin. He has his lists and his insider thinking. He had whole categories picked before the nominees were even announced. In one case, he was naming the names seconds before Mira Sorvino. Hmmmm...will my sentiment-driven picks win over his know-how? We'll see. =)