I can't tell my grand-daughters yet the real reason why they can't watch TV at Grumpaw's house. Because at this point I can't bear to have those kid's shows on, knowing that each and every one of those kids has probably been sexually abused at some point by an agent, casting director, director, producer, or other cast member (which are all just synonyms for jews) and probably with the full knowledge and consent of their parents. It fills me with the kind of cold rage that leads to thoughts of shovels and wood-chippers and what bothers me most about that, is that I find *those* thoughts *don't* bother me at all. They make me smile. But you can't tell them that. So we just don't watch TV here. Maybe one day their Oma can explain to them that Grumpaw has certain rules to live by. They just aren't necessarily the same as everybody else's rules.