weetie, the Food and Drug Administration went beyond its usual scope to approve abstinence last week, endorsing the political stance by rejecting over-the-counter sales of the "morning after" birth control pill known as Plan B. Plan A apparently being wait until you're married to bone.

Over-the-counter sales of Plan B were denied despite recommendation of an advisory panel, whose suggestions are almost always accepted by the FDA. The Plan B pill is a contraceptive tool intended to be taken within 72 hours after sex to prevent pregnancy, and has an 89% effectiveness. While less controversial than the more famous RU-486 contraception, which is taken orally to induce abortion, critics can be heard from their moral high horses critiquing the pill for encouraging promiscuity without the punishment of pregnancy.

Pro-Choice lawmakers and women's rights organizations have blasted the proposal's rejection, suggesting politics have guided the decision more than science, and the Bush administration has maneuvered the FDA decision to curry favor with its conservative base. The FDA claimed its decision was formed on the lack of research on girls 16 and under who take the pill, and not on cowardly bowing to special interests.

The FDA formalized its position Friday by releasing an official approval of abstinence.

"We find abstinence to be one hundred percent safe and effective at preventing pregnancy," said the decision. "All of our studies on the subject find that sex is way over-rated, and people who won't be your friend if you don't have sex aren't the kind of friend you need anyway. While some opponents say abstinence is for squares, our research shows that abstinence is the method for kids too cool to play the peer pressure game."

Critics have charged the FDA with exceeding its authority and entering the realm of politics with Friday's decision, as well of being complete dorks. The FDA ruling went on to acknowledge that while the Plan B pill's over-the-counter sales could ostensibly prevent thousands of unwanted pregnancies, that abstinence was the only sure-fire way to prevent "the bad reputations and normal feelings of guilt associated with underage pre-marital sex." Thus concluded the report: "Abstinence… yay!"

Some have called for the resignation of acting Commissioner Lester Crawford and acting director for the Center for Drug Evaluation and Research Dr. Steve Galson, or at least signed confirmation the decision wasn't politically motivated. Galson previously headed a research group for the Abstinence Foundation performing a study on how the use of condoms reduced all feeling in the penis and the connection between teen-age sex and the holding of low-income jobs.

While the FDA has not closed the door to approving the over-the-counter sales of Plan B, it has significantly stalled the approval until, say, after the November election. If political motivation can be proven in the case, it will be more hard times for the FDA. The agency has faced recent scandal for letting so many male enhancement commercials ruin dinnertime television and approving over-the-counter sales of Placebo, the world's wonderful cure-all pill.

esame Street’s resident expert on numbers and counting, Count von Count, shocked onlookers at the North Hollywood Police Station last Thursday after being arrested on several counts of domestic abuse. Led into the station by numerous uniformed officers, the Count peppered the staff and his accuser, long-time spouse and fellow Muppet the Countess von Lexya, with counting-themed verbal abuse for close to an hour while officers attempted to obtain prints from his uncooperative felt fingers.

“Zat’s two! Two times I tell you, bitch!� the Count yelled across the station as the Countess was speaking with detectives. “Vat do you do ven she just von’t listen?�

The marriage has been a rocky one since the Count married Miss Lexya, a counting-impaired female Muppet created by Jim Henson in 1974 in an effort to bring attention to learning disabilities and spread tolerance among the nation’s youth. Friends of the couple and other Sesame Street regulars were doubtful of the union from the start, due in part to bitter memories of Count von Count’s disastrous failed marriage to backwards-counting prodigy Countess Dahling von Dahling. While some considered the opposites-attract pairing to be adorable, many feared that violence would inevitable result, given the Count’s volatile temper in counting-related matters and Miss Lexya’s utterly inept grasp of the numbers one through ten.

“Zat’s three, three fingers I use to slap your stupid face!� the Count yelled across the police station to the Countess, waving his felt fist in the air.

Since becoming the Countess in 1986, Miss Lexya has filed several reports of domestic abuse, but has never pressed formal charges. However, prosecutors received a break with the news that the Countess does plan on pressing charges this time around, though she’s not sure how many.

“Vait, how many is zis?� the Count questioned, holding up the middle of his three fingers and belligerently waving it in the air. “You must tell me, I canno see zis. Zat policeman did step on my glasses!� The Count continued to flip off the entire police station until advised by his legal counsel to desist.

Similar charges are being considered against puppeteer Marc Sanders, who has been operating the Count since 1991 but claims no part in the alleged domestic abuse. “You can try to talk the Count down, but once he gets his felt up, you’re better off just staying out of his way,� Sanders warned.

“Totally,� agreed fellow puppeteer and long-time Sanders girlfriend Maureen Baker, who also happens to operate the Countess/Miss Lexya puppet. “This may look bad now, but it’s clear that the Count only did what he did because he loves the Countess so much,� explained Baker, who recently received a black eye when she carelessly walked her Miss Lexya puppet into a doorknob.

Reaction among the other Sesame Street cast members was split, with some lamenting the Count’s tragic failings, and others bidding good riddance to an anal-retentive tyrant known to be extremely demanding on the set.

Fellow Muppet and longtime Count friend Dr. Bunsen Honeydew perhaps summed it up best. “The Count isn’t always the easiest chap to get along with,� admitted the myopic sadist. “But everyone would agree he’s the kind of friend you can really count on! Get it? Haha!�

“Me meep,� agreed Honeydew’s submissive man-child Beaker, nervously attempting to fake a smile.

I don't know why everybody expects me to know everything around here. "Omar, what's your car doing parked in my office?" "Omar, who the fuck hired Menudo to tile the break room?" "Omar, what ever happened to that Japanese woman you had living in your house?" What am I, Google? Get your lazy ass over to the library and look it up yourself, Curious George. AskOmar.com don't run for free and when I charge, I charge in pain.

I have to admit though; the "Japanese woman" question did get me thinking. I seem to remember something like that, some kind of foreign squatter in the Bricks Manor a little while back. At first I thought I must be remembering some lame sitcom, but according to resident prick Orson Welch, The Jap of Luxury went off the air years ago.

I definitely remember the house smelling like soy sauce a lot last year, and a quick peek into the compost heap outside shows strong evidence that there was a lot of chop-sticking going on around here during the same time period. So it certainly looks like this place was all Japped up for a good couple months last year. Weird.

I decided to hit the Internet for a little research, which mostly turned up strange cartoon pornography that's likely going to screw up my Saturday mornings for the next few years. But the most useful info came from the commune itself (no shit, we're on the Internet now) in the form of my own Polio columns from last fall. That was really a trip; I was wondering how in the hell people got to our site. Turns out all you have to do is search for "Japanese cat-piss cornhole" and you're there.

So now with that confusion out of the way, I'm faced with a question: What in the hell happened to my Asian live-in cohort? Jesus, you turn around for nine months and these people disappear on you, it's insane.

The last thing I remember, we were teamed up in this rickshaw polo tournament I had organized for charity. Osaka had been building up some serious skills carting me around town during those carless days, and I was getting pretty sharp at not eating shit out the back on sharp turns, so I figured we should put those skills to use for a good cause. There was some static about a school for training immigrants to pull Omar Bricks around town like a dogsled team not being a real charity, but those whiners were weeded out pretty fast and most of them had some pretty sad sack rickshaw-pullers anyway, to say the least. Mostly scrawny neighborhood kids or hookers trying to get off the street, Osaka and I would have poloed circles around them without either of us breaking a sweat.

In retrospect I wouldn't have minded if those guys stayed on, because the poloers who did stick around were a pretty rough bunch who favored a brand of full-contact rickshaw polo that wasn't for the faint of heart. I really felt sorry for anyone who parked their car on Brown Street that day, that's all you need to know.

In the end nobody there could match the skills Osaka and I brought to the arena, but they didn't need to since we flipped the 'shaw while popping a wheelie on the victory lap after I'd scored our first goal. Needless to say the rickshaw was destroyed, which Osaka probably wasn't too thrilled about since she'd paid for it and I'd talked her into getting one of the nice ones, really the Mercedes-Benz of rickshaws, it had a mini-fridge and a doorbell and everything. After the crash there was rickshaw shit all over the street, a stray dog even made off with the portable DVD player. It was a sad scene, especially for me, because I was right in the middle of Rollerball when it happened. I still don't know how that movie ends.

Come to think of it, I don't remember seeing Osaka after the crash, she may have given up on America or been kidnapped by the Triads for all I know. Hell, she could still be at the bottom of that pile of rickshaw rubble, but I bet they've cleaned that up by now. I probably could have stuck around and found out for sure, but the cops were on their way and we only had about ten minutes to make the half-off beers at Runyon's, so nobody was exactly volunteering to hang around for casualty detail.

It's probably all worked out for the best, unless she died. In that case, Osaka, or whatever your real name was, I'll never forget you. Again. After this time, never again. So I'll only forget you once. Probably, can't promise anything. But if you are still around and have learned to read English by now, Foghat's been sleeping on a pile of your stuff, so if you want it back you'll have to talk to him. Bricks out.

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