I was working on my own stimulus package of Oodles Of Noodles when the House Financial Services Committee hearings started. I was reduced to noodle slurping after my peanut butter and jelly way of life was tossed into the toxic assets bin....aka....the Bad Bank, or, the Parnell & Falwell Bank. But, just like a mortgage dumpster diver, the financial hearings ended-up giving me all the banking salmonella I could handle.

Seeking help, I reached for the phone, but didn't know whether to call the doctor or my investment banker. Would the wire-tap guy know? If I do call somebody, will I be labeled as some sick whistleblower? Is this situation covered in the new Susan Collins "Don't Snitch" video?

I started to feel so bad that the Wall Street Dogs couldn't even cheer me up:Right paw up, left paw up, roll over. But, it was kind of amazing what they could make them do with just some authoritative commands - and a blind $176 billion dog bisquit

And now, having successfully completed the symbolic Congressional Obedience School, I guess we're supposed to consider them as officially house-broken. We can once again trust them not to crap on our trillion dollar carpets. Just make sure that we, once again, walk them with a symbolic legislation and symbolic enforcement leash.

Congress is like the waiving & smiling perfect neighbor with the well kept yard. Their yard stays that way because they sneak all of their dogs up to crap in your yard after dark.

So, I find myself at sunset with Congress constantly fouling my yard, a stimulus package dripping from my chin, and, desperately searching for a cure for bailout salmonella. It's a damn Peter Pan nightmare.