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.

From the first day I pulled Nevil out of my duffel bag and locked him in the trophy case in my living room, I thought that I was pretty damn clever for acquiring a midget. I pictured all kinds of everyday tasks that he could perform for me; it would be like having my own butler, only puntable and hilarious. Who wouldn't want a comically undersized sidekick to make their bed, brush their teeth, or stand in for them as a real life stunt double in situations they personally didn't want to be associated with, like work, paying taxes, going to jail, or being gang fucked in a dark alley by a group of Hell's Angels hopped up on PCP?

Fate, it seems, has a cruel way of twisting your dreams into reality.

It seems like I cater to that fucking midget more then he ever waits on me. For the longest time I couldn't even take him on a walk through a decent neighborhood without him darting off and humping somebody's front yard gnomes. I can't count the number of times we would've both been arrested if it weren't for my quick thinking, drop-kicking Nevil into the hedges and soaking up the accolades from homeowners who thought I'd just saved their landscaping from some kind of demented, randy troll.

Eventually I had to solve this problem by stealing one of those remote control shock collars. It didn't seem to be doing the trick at first, if anything the shocks just got Nevil excited, but after I replaced that pussy-assed 9V battery with a Sears DieHard he started singing a different tune. I'm not sure what, it sounded like "Greensleeves" but it's hard to scream in tune when you're on fire. The shock from that car battery is so strong it'll blow a midget clean across the street, and he'll shit his pants in mid-air or your money back. That little fucker even stopped biting, hissing and spitting. I'm telling you, a shock collar is the gift that keeps on giving. Remember that come Christmastime, especially if anyone on your list owns a midget or an ornery dwarf.

In the end, I guess my biggest midget-owning gripe is still maintenance. I had a big problem with him drinking out of the toilet in my apartment, which sounds funny until you get up in the middle of the night to take a crap and realize you've just shit up the back of a midget's jammies. Trust me, that makes leaving the toilet seat up seem like no big deal. So after I got the collar, I decided to hide in the bathroom closet and wait until Nevil got his tongue in the water before I hit the button. Holy shit! Now he won't even go near the fuckin' bathroom.

So what does he do? He shits in the bottom drawer of my fridge. I should have gotten a hamster.

The vet says that Nevil doesn't have any hair anymore due to the hundreds of thousands of volts that I run through him on a daily basis, and that I should find other ways to discipline my midget. Yadda yadda yadda. But I'm nothing if not a humanitarian, so for a week I took the damned collar off. Every time he did something that I didn't like, picking at the paint on the walls, trying on my clothes, trying to escape, or pissing in my closet, I would beat him shitty with a pick-ax handle instead. Trust me, it was good exercise, but nowhere near as convenient. That and my neighbors were always complaining about the noise and asking if they could borrow my croquet set.

Communication is a big problem too. It would be so much easier if Nevil could talk. All he ever does is grunt and growl. Why can't midgets ever talk? You'd think they'd be great at it, since they constantly need help when they can't reach things. I'd expect a midget kid to be able to say "Hey bitch, hand me that sammich!" by the time they're two. Of course, maybe at one time he could talk. But when I found him, in order to subdue the little bastard enough to get him into my bag I had to stab Nevil in the throat with a piece of splintered wood, then tape the wound shut with duct tape so he wouldn't die. I wasn't worried about it at the time, since I already knew that midgets can't feel pain. So don't say I never learned anything in school. But I think that might have had something to do with his lack of conversation skills.

So a word to the wise, for those of you who are thinking about getting a midget: Think twice, because it will be more of you taking care of them, and not the other way around.

º Last Column: This is Mickey Hanes!
º more columns