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Yup, I'm a dyed in the wool gun nut. I think this is a tragedy. I also think we shouldn't make public policy based on highly publicized outliers.

According to at least one bystander, it was supposed to be a particularly safe area. If you need to go to that sort of extreme in the safe areas, you're basically suggesting that we need to do this everywhere. We do not need to do this everywhere. It's a statistical thing -- you take a chance leaving your home, going to school, going to work, heck, you take a chance breathing. Heck, you take a chance living as a hermit in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. Nothing is safe, and we can't protect against every possible contingency. It's just not financially feasible. One thing we can do is educate. It would have been nice if there was a plan, and if the teachers knew what to do besides lock their doors and cower, although I'm not sure what else they could have done. In terms of snapping, this will always happen. I heard a psychologist on the radio discuss how the best thing we can do for nutjobs like this is to ignore them, because they do it for the attention. But in a free society with such an aggressive journalist force, that will never happen. I'm not talking sensationalization -- this sort of story is self-sensationalizing. Reporting this story in the most understated matter will still have a sensationalizing effect. It's unavoidable. So the best thing we can do is tut-tut over the losses, start with the man in the mirror and try to lead a normal healthy life both physically and mentally, do your best not to be that guy, and move on, because otherwise the terrorists win.

Thanks for the well wishes everyone. Even more thanks to Mike Sr. for picking me up, taking me to brunch and then a quick tour of downtown Chicago! You're are good man and a truly good friend! I will miss hanging around here but I will try my best to log in whenever I can. Off to board in a few minutes for my 16 hour flight from O'Hare to Hong Kong

Sup, Heads? Just got the word that I'll be on two hours early tonight, from 8-10PM Eastern.

Raffy checking out the menu.

It was near the end of a 2-hour very public Santa gig that I do every Thursday night, and there had been an unually high concentration of screaming babies. It was also a bit hot, so my cooling vests were on their last leg, and my mind was starting to wander. Then as I looked up, three youngish (to me anyway) women in their late 20s or early 30s approached me, all giddy and full of "inside joke" kind of laughter. They immediately started to get quite "fresh" with Santa, one on each knee (which is fine) but rubbing up on me in somewhat inappropriate ways, and the banter was right in step with their physicalness. Not that I minded so much, it was a welcome break from the routine, especially on this night. Some of those babies were like worms, kicking and screaming. Lots of sweet, innocent moments as well with angelic children, but that aside, this trio was shaping up to a quite interesting photo session. The photographer was going along with it as well, and probably couldn't hear half of what they were saying. Oddly enough, I didn't even notice them as they had stood in line. Just, boom! There they were, and they were all about Santa. Or so I thought. But apparently, they enjoy each other's company as well. More on that in a moment. But first, when I asked them what they wanted for Christmas, the least attractive of the three (and she wasn't half bad for a Thursday night) looked at the other two and asked, "Should I tell him?" They nodded, so she did. Not surprisingly, she wanted to get some pics with Santa pretending to (or actually, I'm not so sure which), spank her. I quickly declined, saying, "Sorry, I don't do anything like that. It will get all over Facebook, and I've got hundreds of Santa friends who will disapprove..." They thought that was kind of funny (I do too, when I think about it), but I assured them that it was true. So back to the little kids we go. We were actually running overtime. It was 7:10pm and I graciously agreed to hang around for the remaining 3 or 4 families with young'uns who were still in line. Behind the cameraman, off in the distance a bit, the three of them were hanging on, frolicking around with each other, and taking pics of odd poses on a bench that is made to look like a polar bear. I didn't think much of it, but would learn quickly that they were waiting for me! Now everyone is packing up, the props crew is knocking down the steal-able bits on the set, and the photo crew was taking down their portable lighting, while I was packing the candy bag away inside the toy bag, putting my royal robe back on and grabbing Rudolph's neck harness to head back to the SUV/sleigh. Now the conversation gets interesting. They all have boyfriends, and at least one of them isn't a half bad guy according to the others. He dates the real stunner, a Caymanian girl, who I was kind of taking a liking to. Tall and slim, beautiful smile. Definitely the pick of the litter... But he's too Churchy for her taste, and her other friends think that he's waiting for her to lure him into sin. She vows not to do so, which is to say that although he's quite interested in her sexually, he's yet to make the move. Now I guess I'm supposed to be a counselor?!?! No, as it turns out, that's not the point they intended to make. It seems that they noticed that I noticed her as well, and think that she... all of them, actually... have noticed that I might just have a little naughtiness up my sleeve somewhere, something they now wish to explore. Well, it didn't take long until they just came right out with it, that despite their "straight" nature, each of them they assured me, they are very close friends, and have come up with this fun game that they now like to play along with a 4th young lady who was unfortunately not in plain view for my evaluation. Yet, they assured me that she's every bit as cute as they are, and we're talking a 9 and two 6s. In any event, they've coined the term "boobie cocoon" (yes, there is a payoff to this long story, or so I'm now hoping). As you might imagine, this game they play involves anywhere from 6 to 8 boobies, and they're trying to recruit another pair or two in the near future. Said boobies are rubbed every which way to the carnal delight of some lucky recipient, mostly themselves. Sounding more and more interesting, and perhaps "worth the wear and tear" as Mick Jaggar once sang (credit "Some Girls"), so I provided them with one of my "adult" Santa cards (not what you're thinking, just a card with my cell number and email address), and encouraged them to call me soon. I've been home for several hours now; it doesn't seem to be happening tonight. What's most interesting is that none of them seemed to know me. They thought that surely I wasn't local, or they would have seen me around the place by now, and figured that they "flew me in" to be Santa... hopefully they won't sniff around too much, and then start getting shy all of a sudden. I may or may not actually go through with it. My loins say yes, but they're all very local and even more vocal. Not so sure I'd want to take the reputational risk, speaking as Santa now, not as merely an old fat guy who would never otherwise have a chance to come to bat in a triple header... not to mention to boobie cocoon, which they claim is outright intergallactic - it was weird, they all actually spoke with very strange words, big words. I think they've had many conversations about this topic - not the Santa aspect - but just the general experience that they like to 'share' with one another.

Stinky Purple Cast will be the name of my new punk band.

I had absolutely no interest in this player until the last post. Damn you Jeff.

The whole university is purple?

Now that I have a machine that can actually run KF at a decent frame rate, I should give it a go. Of course, to do that I'd have to stop playing Starcaft II for a minute...