I Love You, Hun (You Pathetic Waste) . . .

Nabuko Kan, wife of Japanese Prime Minister Naoto Kan, has been an excellent helpmeet to her husband in his difficult job.

Indeed, who else, when their husband’s popularity is waning, will rush to the rescue with reassuring deeds such as stating (publicly, of course) that she would never marry him if she had to do it all over again.

Yeah. Apparently, when poor old Naoto returns home after a hard day battling dissenters, he still has to deal with his wife.

But hey! Look at the upside. Her book, What On Earth Will Change In Japan Now You Are Prime Minister, not only vies for status of the longest title in the world, but also occupies bookstands across Japan. What a lucky guy to be married to a gal who can write!

She even rags on him for dressing without taste and trying to do his job sans leadership skills.

It’s so bad that he’d rather go to work and battle politicians than come home to dinner.

But it’s only because she loves him so much, you see. She drives him crazy at home so his actual job doesn’t seem so bad.

Apparently it’s Japanese tradition to minimize the achievements of the people you love, but Mrs. Kan definitely has taken it to a whole new level.

I just know Prime Minister Kan’s heart is melting.

She’d better check her sushi, just in case he decides to administer his own love in the form of strychnine.

Long Ago, Favre, Favre Away . . .

And so, having ended the football season with 19 interceptions, shoulder, foot, and head injuries, and a scandal of Tiger Woods proportions, NFL legend Brett Favre has announced that it's time he hangs up his cleats.

Again.

Well, I would agree that it's time to call it quits. For being such a huge sports star, Favre has shown us all how to go out with a fizzle.

But given that this is his third time "retiring", the track record shows that he may decide to hobble back onto the field next year, ball in one hand and cell phone in the other.

Why? The money? The camera time? The opportunity to meet chicks? He's already made a name for himself, not only through his long-past glory days, but also by combining Michael Jordan's retirement flip-flopping and Tiger Woods' loving ways. What more blood could he possibly squeeze from this withered, worn-out pigskin turnip?

It's a matter of doubt now whether any team will want him at all. When he signed on with the Jets, he was still a coveted asset. When the Vikings got him, they had hope that his stint with the Jets was just a bad year. Now it's apparent that he's a washed-up has-been.

But hey, if he decides retirement just isn't his thing, and some sorry team decides they want him, he could make history once again as the first QB with a walker.

And he might start a movement to switch NFL play to flag football, since contact sports don't seem to be agreeing with him these days.

It could be interesting.

Beat It, Discovery Channel!

The Discovery Channel has canceled the airing of their documentary, "Michael Jackson's Autopsy: What Really Killed Michael Jackson." The documentary was scheduled to air in Europe this month.

The show was scrapped after Jackson's family raised an uproar, calling it "disrespectful". "Macabre" would have been another good word.

Purportedly, viewers would have been treated to dramatic narration underlining a reenactment of the pop icon's autopsy as we heard (for the zillionth time) about the debate over how Jackson really died.

Seriously . . . the guy's dead. Just leave him alone. Plus, we've seen plenty of autopsies acted out on TV. Show of hands: Who here has seen CSI? There you go. My point exactly. Snooooooorrrrrrre . . .

However, I'm considering pitching a new, far more unique idea to Discovery: A reenactment of Michael Jackson's myriad plastic surgery operations.

Heck, they could turn THAT into a miniseries!