We're thinking of changing the sign on our front door to read "NO SOLICITORS OR VIOLENT GENOME CREATURES."

Permit me to mix my metaphors as I draw an odd but important conclusion: if I could hire Keith Morrison to be the Fraulein Maria of my household, I'd do it. Then he could tell me tales of the Murder at Onion Soup Junction as we turn our draperies into suits for forensic lab techs.

An erotic thriller is erotic and a thriller, and they're thrillers that are also erotic. Everybody got that?

The blogosphere is still abuzz about "Snakes On a Liquid Cargo Barge", largely because they suggested Jackson's new catchphrase, "I'm so glad I didn't take a motherf___ing liquid fuel barge to motherf___ing Belgium."