Well, Reagan is dead. I have little to say about it other than "At least he's not suffering anymore." I wasn't a fan, but I can sympathize with the family's plight. I spent the weekend avoiding any news channel which might beat me over the head with a constant drizzle of syrupy "We love the Gipper" sentiment.
I was checking my referrer logs and saw someone had been reading one of my older entries,
"Child Stars For Christ." I'd forgotten about writing this one, and it made me laugh.
Lately, I've been noticing that a lot of these actors that gave me such impure thoughts when I was a kid are now older, bald, and devoting their lives to Christ. I have Pat Robertson and the 700 Club to thank for this. They keep profiling these guys and popping my lust-filled balloons.
Willie Ames, for example, used to be a frequent visitor to my nightly visions. I wasn't watching Charles in Charge for the intricate plotting, y'know? I was hoping Willie Ames and Scott Baio would recognize their undyling love for each other (an undying love that existed only in my head) and make with the smoochies.
