I am not a political blogger. I swear, I’m not. There isn’t a political bone in my body. (Is there an echo in here?)

But I am a citizen, and a woman, and a registered voter (otherwise, no right to whine), and a mother, and a neighbor, and a bunch of other things, and I’ve tried all my life to be a kind and decent person.

(Those college years don’t count, do they? Oops.)

I think it is the ‘mother’ part of me that is outraged here. I can feel myself morphing into a grizzly bear, standing tall and ready to rip to shreds anyone or anything that came near my children with perverse intent.

Ordinarily I don’t mention political names on this blog because I AM NOT A POLITICAL BLOGGER. But I simply must put my two cents in about Mark Foley.

Wait. He’s not worth two cents. Ach, where’s a ha’penny when you really need one?

Mark Foley. Scum. Predator. Whiny excuse-maker.

His being gay doesn’t bother me in the least. Many of my friends are gay. Many are not. That part of their lives is none of my business. I love them for being the people they are, not for what they do in the privacy of their bedrooms. We are what we are.

What bothers me is that he made inappropriate advances towards children, and then tried to excuse his actions with sniveling statements about his personal addictions and his own teen trauma, all the while standing before us as a nation and vowing to bring down those who lay a violent hand on the bodies/minds/hearts/psyches of our children.

Can we spell “hypocrite?”

And now his own law is coming back to smack him in the arse, because if he goes to jail, it’s because of his own work to get it passed.

Talk about shooting yourself in the foot. Way to go, Foley.

I waste no sympathy on him. He’s a predator, and what he did was inexcusable.

I tend to be pretty tough on grown people who try to use their childhood traumas as excuses for behaving badly as an adult. No. Sorry. Won’t work. Life is full of choices.

Mark Foley chose to be a dirty old man.