It feels so good to vent. And it's so nice to have you wonderful people to vent to. So with no further ado:

Madonna divorcing Guy Ritchie. Because if those two kids can't make it in this crazy world …

Tonight's final presidential debate. Does it even matter at this point? A while back I was going to write a screed about my lack of faith in the American voter's ability to choose an umbrella when it's raining, but it seems that Obama, after all, will win. I'll watch it, out of some misguided sense of my duty as a citizen. But I don't have to like it.

People who diss Britney Spears. She may not be an artiste with arteestic integrity like that indie band you plunk down $15 to see every time they play your local watering hole, but that's not what she's selling, is it? And that art-for-art's-sake ethos you abide by is as much a commodity your heroes want you to pay for as is the charisma and sex appeal that are Ms. Spears' selling points. Don't believe me? Check out your iPod playlist. Britney's just another option on pop culture's television. Don't like it? Change the channel.

This Sunday's slate of NFL games. Up is down, and black is white, as those of us participating in Creative Loafing's pro football office pool have learned this NFL season. Which Giants team will show up against the Niners: the one that got blown out by the lowly Browns, or the one that took apart the Cards and Seahawks? Is San Diego back on track after crushing the Pats, or will they fold up like a cheap suit in Buffalo? Should I put my faith in a resurgent Indy squad at Green Bay, or did they simply take advantage of an overrated Ravens team last week? Ouch. My head hurts …

Boston Red Sox fans who cheer during a hopeless game. I couldn't believe my eyes when, down by 10 to our beloved Rays, they unironically roared and high-fived when their Bosox scored a run to make it 11-2. This is great cause for concern, because if Red Sox Nation is capable of cheering when the ship is sinking, who knows what other evils they may unleash upon society? You know, besides Bloody Socks. And 2004.