Wow. Must be slower in Indianapolis than I thought. The battle for right to work legislation must have worn both sides flat out, as now there's an apparently punch-drunk or sleep-deprived state representative more or less calling out the Girl Scouts.

In a letter to fellow Republicans in the Indiana House, Rep. Bob Morris (R-Ft.Wayne) said that after talking with "well-informed constituents" conducting some Internet research, he was not going to support a resolution commemorating the 100th anniversary of the Girl Scouts, as he now believes them to be a "radicalized organization" that supports abortion and promotes homosexuality.

Naturally, cause if I had a nickel for every time the Girl Scouts started beating on my door, demanding I buy four boxes to support their big lesbian drum circle abortion rally, I could afford a subscription to the poorly-mimeographed newsletter that must play in this guy's head.

No mention was made if another reason was those delicious, delicious Samoas, and how they should be named Chewy Chocolately Democracy with Coconut instead.

Morris, the only member of the House to refuse to sign the resolution, said his research turned up allegations the Girl Scouts are a tactical arm of Planned Parenthood, encourage sex, and allow transgender females to join.

Seriously, has Morris been drinking more than the recommended two Five-Hour Energy shots a day or something, because this is the kind of shit you see crumpled up on the floor of the South Park writers' room.

As expected, Planned Parenthood of Indiana (PPIN) President and CEO Betty Cockrum issued the following statement earlier today in response to Morris, and Ashley Sharp, spokeswoman for the Girl Scouts of Northern Indiana-Michiana, said Monday the group's website states it leaves sex and reproduction questions to parents, and accepts transgender youth on a case-by-case basis.

Morris, who has served District 84 (Allen County, including the city of Fort Wayne and most of St. Joe Township) since 2010, also told the Fort Wayne Journal-Gazette that other would join him in opposing the resolution, but in true dingbat fashion, walked that statement back later during an interview with the Associated Press.

While Rep. Morris may have the whole don't steal candy from a baby ideal down pat, maybe someone could nudge him and remind him that bullying a Girl Scout (let alone all of them) is just as bad. If not, test the water table in Allen County, cause boy howdy that "informed constituency" just might not be as well acquainted with the word informed like you think they are...

Okay, so now that the spectacle of Whitney Houston's funeral has passed (it has passed, hasn't it?), it's time to resume the normal flow of things and...oh, hold up. The fucking idiots at Westboro Baptist Church. Almost forgot them.

Normally I disdain giving that gaggle of fucktards any time in my columns, even if it's to make fun of them for being a gaggle of fucktards, but this one is just prime dumb bastard material.

After announcing their intentions to picket, protest, or whatever they call their attention-seeking public circle jerks at the funeral of Whitney Houston this past Saturday, the group was noticeably absent. As in, they weren't there, ain't nobody saw them there, wonder how the weather is in Boondoggle, Florida or Bumblefuck, Kansas or wherever the wheels fell off the mobile home most recently.

Not to be deterred, Margie J. Phelps, daughter of the church's leader, tweeted an image purporting members to be waving signs as the procession passed, although it was then debunked, as the New Jersey Star-Ledger confirmed that no one, let alone the protestors, had access to the area in the picture.

“Time for Westboro picket of Whitney Houston funeral.So many piling up to blather about her today. Not ONE of them warned her of hell,” Ms. Phelps tweeted, apparently having been one of those not warned of Photoshop, or how easy it is to ferret out its use, especially when you place it on a tee for them while handing over a bat. Maybe you should confer with the North Koreans, then you too could come up with something slightly more convincing than a blown supermodel photo with a 9 inch waist.

Bottom line, since you can't even get the whole church thing right, leave the special effects to guys like James Cameron and George Lucas. They can at least make us believe in other worlds and fantastic scenarios. You schmucks couldn't even convince anyone you went to New Jersey.

T-minus 318 days until the alleged Mayan Apocalypse... and we head to St. Charles, Missouri, where a possible sign is manifesting itself on Westhampton View Court.

According to coverage in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, in one of those quirky occurrences that can only be a harbinger of the impending doom on our horizon December 21, all five homes on the court are having issues with their garage doors.

The trouble began shortly after Christmas, and is blamed on frequency pollution, or interference among various wireless frequencies, but this even has the experts stumped, as they are not used to this phenomenon occurring in a multiple-home cluster. The residents of Westhampton View Court have filed complaints with the Federal Communications Commission, but as with most things government-as-usual, no word on how long the FCC is going to take to get back with them on that.

Of course there's no idea how long it's going to take- that's always how the disaster works in a B-movie: "Eh, there's no problem, nothing to see here, now move along...oh," the monster's alive/the meteor's coming/mother nature's on the rag big time...everybody run for your lives!

Could it be the garage doors? I mean, that can't really be what starts Skynet, can it? The future is turning into more bullshit by the minute...

Of course, we will not be so lucky. Given our current path, we will probably meet our maker when World War III is triggered by a cultural misunderstanding involving a Real Housewife, a stick of butter, and some unsolicited finger in anus. Me personally, I'd prefer the asteroid...or if I can't buy the farm like in an Irwin Allen disaster-film, maybe having a Biggest Loser first-round send-off crushing me on an escalator. Something with a little dignity.

Having kicked around the idea of maybe pursuing a business-related J.D. degree, when I saw this story, it made me glad that if I should gain that degree, I probably will not have to engage in any trial law.

Not that I don't think I would be a decent litigator, but just like seeing Evel Knievel crash his bike cured me of wanting to jump the fountains at MGM Grand, this story of legal prowess makes me reconsider standing before the bench arguing a case.

Well, okay...you got me. This isn't a story about legal prowess at all, as it turns out to be about Orly Taitz, a woman so delusional she should get her own reality show. Unlike smashing up a motorcycle on a stunt, this is a wreck that unfolds all day, everyday.

This time, the birther legal eagle managed to lose a case to an empty table. Even Lionel Hutz or the Hyperchicken from Futurama aren't this bad. Are they?

Last week, representing one of four plaintiffs in a case regarding President Obama's eligibility for placement on the Democratic ballot in Georgia, Taitz found herself facing off against nobody, as the President's attorney responded to subpoenas with a letter saying they would not be in attendance, as the presiding court had no business hearing the case, even if they did have jurisdiction.

Sucking it up as anyone would, Taitz and her colleagues proceeded with their arguments, requesting a summary judgment on the merits.

And the verdict. No case, no credible evidence, no law to support their claims. So in other words, no. Nope. Sorry. Denied. Rejected. Return to sender. Judgment for the empty table, er...the defendant.

Since daytime TV is chock full of courtroom shows, may I suggest adding this one, maybe this fall if everything goes right, and we can get Dr. Taitz on board. Every afternoon, she would present an argument in a TV court to a suitably TV-esque judge, and the defendant would be a empty table, save for a placard bearing the argument. It would be great. We'd call it Taitz v. ?...one day, it'd be Sasquatch, the next, the magic bullet theory or why they switched Harriets on Family Matters. Every once in a while, just to be fair, throw in one she can win, like Taitz v. Flat Earthers...maybe during sweeps.

Wow, was all I could muster, as I sat here at my desk, reading news of a planned professional American-style football league being launched overseas. Wonder what part of Europe it will be in, how many teams, and oh...wait. It's in India.

Yeah, I hear ya. India? Absolutely, as the Elite Football League of India is gearing up to kick-off its inaugural season this November. The league is being bankrolled by numerous Indian and American investors, notably NFL legends Mike Ditka and Kurt Warner, and former Green Bay linebacker Brendan O'Neill Chillar, and Mark Wahlberg. Um...okay.

How great would the TV be for this league in America? I mean, how the NFL style product translates into Indian culture. I know enough not to think the players will be dressed like guards from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, but there is still a part of me that kind of expects every touchdown celebration to include thousands of extras and last fifteen to twenty minutes each. How many yards for that excessive celebration?

Really though, no one should be surprised at the EFLI. There are actually pro/semi-pro American-style football leagues in Britain, Germany, Ireland, Poland, Romania (wonder if they have a team called the Impalers), New Zealand, and the utterly insane X League in Japan (60 teams, a crazy mishmash of professional, corporate semi-pro, and club teams). Guess I gotta put that on my bucket list - see an X Bowl. Take out the tentacle rape and massive pixelation, and that's gotta be a halftime show for the ages. Beats an aging Madonna and whoever the blue fuck M.I.A. is...