So can either Salon's editors or perhaps Ms. Price please apologize for demonizing people who masturbate? You've gotten about thirty responses all detailing how idiotic this entry is.

Or perhaps Salon could start an intelligent sex advice column to balance this "Eww! People who masturbate are gross!" nonsense.

Every time I read through a debate on the propriety of using American Indian nicknames for sports teams, people always seem to say "what about Notre Dame?"

So some perspective on "The Fighting Irish" for anyone who wants the facts.

Notre Dame used to be 'The Ramblers' back in the day. Irish Catholic immigrants comprised a large portion of the student body and hence, the football team. The Holy Cross priests, who were primarily a French order back in the mid-nineteenth century, were by the 20th Century made up of many Irishmen (ND Presidents names from those bygone eras: Dillon, Corby, Morrisey, O'Hara, Cavanaugh (x2), O'Donnell (x2) Walsh (x2)... see a pattern?) Knute Rockne once wrote that he was (paraphrasing cause I can't remember it exactly) "the lone Norwegian Protestant at the Irish Catholic school."

You see, Notre Dame was adopted by the Irish Immigrants as *their* school. It was a school not known for academics, to be certain. It was instead a school for poor kids. The Big Ten (both in 1896 and in 1910) wouldn't admit ND to their presigious ranks because they so squarely looked down their noses at the poor little Catholic school. (And maybe rightfully so.)

Francis Wallace, a popular sports writer and eventual de facto Notre Dame historian started calling ND's football team "the Fighting Irish" in his columns, and the University adopted the nickname officially. It was never meant as anything other than descriptive (they were almost all Irish) and complimentary (they fought hard in games.)

Thus, the term "Irish" was self-applied by a bunch of proud Irish priests.

So this has absolutely nothing to do with the debate over American Indian nicknames.

And for the especially clueless right-wingers trying to use ND to prove their point, a Leprechaun is a mythical figure. It's not a caricature of Irish people.

Dear Too Hurt For Words,

I've long stopped reading Cary's inane responses to people letters, as the letters themselves are far more interesting and insightful.

So ignore whatever dribble he spouted and take my advice to heart.

Jealousy will kill you. It eats your heart and leaves a black pit where it used to reside. This is your problem, not your husband's.

Your husband is guilty of having a normal sex drive and lacking the super-human ability to shelf it everytime he's "supposed to." The real problem here is you. It's your response. You can choose to focus on your jealous feelings and excise them from your life. Your partner's sexuality is not your property. His spirit and flirtatiousness was something you once found attractive. Don't forget these things.

This is about self-improvement. Your husband's rather innocent spurts of his restrained sexual expression have provided you with a chance to grow and improve. You can use these experiences of discovering that your husband has a sexuality that doesn't reside 100% inside your ego to grow.

Work on it.

Starting times matter for a lot of parents. This NBA season, I only seriously looked to get tickets for the few day games available. And the Blazer's ticket office felt pretty fortunate to have a whopping SIX! daytime starts. The other 35 games are tipping off at about my son's bedtime.

But I grew up loving hoops, and he's finally old enough to appreciate them, so four Sunday afternoons this winter, we're headed to the Rose Garden. And yes, the start time trumped who the opponent was or any other consideration.

Then there's the Wrigley factor. An afternoon at Wrigley beats the snot out of night games anywhere else, and the crappy Cubs continue to get great ticket sales despite starting their games when people are supposed to be at work. Why is that? Because people like day games.

Cary, you should have smacked the LW over the head with a 2x4 for his blatant hypocricy.

The "She's a good girl, so I'm sure she's not having sex," combined with the "I love me some slutty ho's!" should have been enough to expose this guy for what he is.

She's a senior in High School. Bottom line, what she wears for Halloween of for choir practice or any other occasion is NONE OF YOUR FREAKING BUSINESS. "Back off, creepy, judgmental guy who's nailing my mom."

Religious freaks throwing stones at other religious freaks is just ~funny.~