If there are lessons to be learned in the death of Miss Deaf Texas, Tara Rose McAvoy, it’s that it’s a really bad idea for deaf people to walk on railroad tracks and not take a look around every now and then … y’know, to make sure there isn’t a train coming up behind them, blaring its horn that they can’t hear.

Tara Rose McAvoy, 18, was walking near railroad tracks when she was struck by a Union Pacific train, authorities said. A witness told Austin television station KTBC the train sounded its horn right up until the accident occurred.

I think someone’s up for a Darwin Award.

… in Baltimore, at any rate.

WBAL-AM Radio has canceled Limbaugh’s syndicated call-in talk show, saying it wants to focus on local news and hosts. It is the first station to cancel the show, which is heard in nearly 600 markets, according to Limbaugh’s syndicate, Premiere Radio Networks.

Sadly, Rush’ll be back on in Baltimore at the start of June, according to the Baltimore Sun. He’s a blowhard hipocrite who should’ve been yanked from WBAL back when his medication-abuse came to light a few years ago. I hope 105.7 isn’t planning on putting him on — that’d mean cutting into the Ed Norris show which I really like.

And more good news of all this – Ron Smith’ll be getting an extra hour of radio time.

My deadbolt stopped working this afternoon.

How does a deadbolt stop working? I don’t know. All I know is that from outside my front door, I can’t get the key to retract the bolt. From inside the apartment, I can turn the little knob and it’ll deploy the deadbolt. Whatever. This is why Henderson-Webb has an online “service request” feature.

Even better? Eight months ago I snapped a key off in the knob’s lock. Half the key is still in the lock (I only use the deadbolt). They’re gonna have to be out here quick and early tomorrow morning to get this sucka’ fixed … (I hope).

This weekend I fell off the weight-loss wagon. Overcome by stress I failed to control myself at any of my work environments and ate pizza slices, subs, assorted chicken products, and non-diet sodas. I snacked on pickel dills dipped in mayonaise. During rare off-work time Saturday night I indulged in more pizza and assorted candies. Last night, thrilled by passing the VEIP inspection, I stopped by Giant Food on my way home and bought a carton of Breyer’s mint chocolate chip ice cream and ate it. And when I say “ate it”, I don’t mean “I put some in a bowl.” I mean, I ate it … all. The entire carton of ice cream. Ate. It.

I also did absolutely no exercise this week. Not a single fucking jumping jack.

So when I weighed myself not two minutes ago, I was very surprised by my weight loss. Yes, it’s true — I lost an entire half pound. Considering my poor eating habits this past week, I was not just surprised by this, I was fucking incredulous. I was really expecting to be back over two-thirty. Instead, I’m down to two-twenty-six. Hooray!

Ten minutes into the movie, and I know how it ends.

Jodie Foster’s daughter died too. She knows and accepts her husband’s death (mostly) but can’t wrap her head around the thought of her daughter’s death … until she wakes up on the plane and her imagination/guilt won’t keep up the illusion anymore.

I’ll finish the movie tomorrow. I’m tired. Is it only Monday? Feels like Thursday.

(Sorry Phil.)