An Ariel Sharon Post.

I just brought back the Marcia Gay Harden dog, and now Ariel Sharon. What else can I possibly recycle for your entertainment?
In the last week, two people, one of them my own mother, snidely asked me if Ariel Sharon was still alive. When I understandably responded to that question with profane shrieks and accusations of impertinence, I received condescending chuckles and the reply, "Well, I wasn't SURE." To punish these sorts of people and to get in my Ariel Sharon monthly quota, it is time for a comprehensive update.

Ariel Sharon is still alive. His son Gilad claimed there were subtle signs of improvement back in April, but that's sort of like when I went to see that crappy J-Lo movie with the bear last year and weakly stated that she was probably sort of attempting to make a comeback. But we do not lose faith. Ariel Sharon will wake up, and the first words out of his mouth will be, "Where is my BFF Emma?"

It looks like he's holding a whoopie cushion.

In other Ariel news, his son Omri was sentenced to seven months in jail yesterday for shady financial shizzle and election fraud stemming from Ariel's campaign fundraising for the 1999 Likud primaries. It doesn't reflect very positively on our comatose chum, so it is probably for the best that he stay in that coma for a little while longer. If he wakes up in eight months, maybe he never has to know. If I had entered into a years-long coma in 1995 and woke up now, I probably wouldn't know that Arnold Schwarzenegger ruined his amazing career to hobnob with Sacramento fat cats. Sigh.

Omri apparently shares his father's love of a good animal.

I have decided that I will have an Ariel Sharon birthday next February. I have no idea what one would do at a party like that besides have an Israeli flag cake and make fun of Palestinians, but when there's an Emma, there's a way.

Hunk o' man.