"My Friend, Joe the Plumber"

During last week's Presidential debate, I thought that nothing could be more annoying than Sen. John McCain's incessant use of the words, "My friends."

Sen. McCain, you're not my friend, you're just an employee working for the people of Arizona.

I don't like being told I'm someone's "friend." I don't like it when a boyfriend downgrades our "I've got regular sex and a date on national holidays" relationship to "just friends," and really despise it when a political kiss-ass, lagging in the polls, tries to upgrade our "I'm a citizen and you're my elected bitch" relationship to the cloyingly precious "my friends" level.

Like we're about to break into "Bosom Buddies" from Mame or something. John, I repeat - - "I was NEVER in the chorus!"

You see Mr. McCain, just because you claim something to be true doesn't necessarily make it become the truth. If that were the case, I would be repeating "28-inch waist, 12-inch cock and a full head of long, luxurious, smartly styled hair." My mantra.

But last night, "My friends" took a backseat to the most annoying callback since Urkel's, "Did I do that?" - - Joe, the Plumber.

Bringing up - - and continuing to refer to!!!! - - "Joe the Plumber" ad nasueum didn't bring McCain closer to the Heartland or the struggling middle class or even his core supporters - - "Old Men with Potato-like Skin Who Can't Raise Their Arms Above Their Nipples."

Enough of "Joe the Plumber." Unless of course he looks like the cutie above and he knocks on my door saying that he's come to clean my pipes.

And while we're at it, let's put "Joe Six Pac" out of circulation as well.

As much as I enjoy chiseled abs, I only want to hear those words grouped together if Nancy McKeon returns to her mulleted-80's glory as Jo in a Facts of Life tv reunion special.

And she's carrying six beers. And Mindy Cohn.