Nobody likes a stool pigeon, a squealer, a little rat. So we learn to be stand-up about things, and even if a howling, red-faced, spittle-spraying vice principal is reading you the riot act, well, you gotta be stoic about it because "no Sir, I didn't see anything" is your only ticket back into the good graces of the group.

Kinda like that out in the real world, too. Nobody's going to watch your back if you have a reputation for folding under fire. Maybe this is why every time you hear someone expressing grave doubts about the wisdom of bombing Iraq, every time somebody holds up a hand and says, "You know, I think our cokehead president is leading us into disaster," they always tag on the obligatory coverline, "But I support our troops."

Where did this quisling justification come from? I don't know who started it, but the way it works is that you can express as much displeasure as you like about the way things are going, as long as "I support our troops" are the last words out of your mouth. Otherwise you're a traitor, you're letting down our boys, and you're liable to be surrounded by a pack of angry bikers who want to see you bleed and hear you beg hopelessly for mercy.

So what's the exit strategy for our fine men and women, anyway? Well, assuming we kick Hussein out by force...

The most likely scenario is that a U.S. general would temporarily govern Iraq with an occupation force of up to 150,000 troops. Officially, the Pentagon says that would last 18 months, but other defense officials are saying occupation could last two or three years.

Sounds like a recipe for carnage, but don't get me wrong—I support our troops.

Leggo My Lezbo

That's Lezbosagogo, a burlesque lesbian dance troupe who've been invited to kick off the festivities at Dinah Shore Weekend in Phoenix on March 30. So what are these dolls doing in Palm Springs? Well, the Dinah Shore Weekend is a huge party held in tandem with the Kraft Nabisco LPGA Championship, formerly the Dinah Shore Invitational. And while the Ladies Professional Golf Association tries its darndest to avoid any linkage between women's golf and lesbianism, the Dinah Shore Weekend has become the "largest gathering of lesbians in the country."

Turns out that one of the event's producers, Mariah Hanson, saw Lezbosagogo perform at the Cherry Bar (which Hanson owns) in San Francisco, and thought they'd be perfect for the country-club types in Palm Springs. One of the Gogos explains:

"Girl-on-girl interaction" is what Skylar says sets the Gogos apart from other burlesque troupes, as Pulliam nods in agreement. "Grinding, touching breasts, face between legs, hair pulling, biting, licking. We give them something they haven't seen before," she says. "And then there's the muff-diving contest."

Postal Bondage

No, don't worry, it's not what you think. It's worse.

What you're seeing here to the right is a training exercise for the auditors and investigators who serve the United States Postal Inspector General, Karla Corcoran, who's being lifted up by 500 of her staffers. "What," you might rightly ask, "are these people doing? Aren't they supposed to be rooting out waste, fraud, abuse and mismanagement to make our postal system leaner and more efficient?" Why, yes they are. But IG Corcoran thinks they can do the job better if they learn to "bond" with each other. Here's some of the touchy-feely games they've been playing, and how much money they've spent learning their five core workplace values of teamwork, leadership, communication, creativity and conceptualization—which they call "TLC3":

• TLC3-by-the-Sea: 50 managers on their hands and knees built sandcastles on a beach in Ocean City, Md., during a week-long, team-building retreat. Cost: $35,000.
  
• At a four-day conference at a Washington hotel 650 employees sang "We Are Family," performed skits like "Evolution of the Values" and wore colored dots that represented personality traits. Cost: $1.2 million
  
• At a management committee retreat in Shepherdstown, W.Va., a motivational speaker taught "emotional intelligence" and execs bet on simulcast horse racing. Cost of retreat: $11,500, not counting salaries.
  
• At a "Summerfest" for the Denver field office in Aurora, Colo., two dozen staffers wrapped each other from head to toe in toilet paper, aluminium foil, straws and pipe cleaners. Cost: Unknown.
  
• At the three-day "annual recognition conference" in Washington, employees built tents out of newspapers, hopscotched across a ballroom on squares labeled with TLC3 values, learned scat singing and hoisted Corcoran aloft (see photo above). Cost: $1.3 million for 698 attendees.
  
• At leadership retreat in Gettysburg, Pa., 150 people toured the Civil War battle site to learn the lessons of Pickett's Charge, a famously failed Confederate counterattack. Cost: $100,000.
  
• At the annual conference in Washington, 725 employees went on a treasure hunt to seek clues about TLC3 from costumed actors playing a wizard, magician, dragon, princess and mad scientist. They used Hawaiian leis to spell out the TLC3 values as different teams barked, quacked, waddled, hissed and slithered. Addressing the confab was self-esteem guru Jack Canfield, author of the best-selling "Chicken Soup for the Soul." Cost: $1.1 million.
  

I Love You

That's what Valentine's Day is all about. Hugs, kisses, and naughty little chocolate candies and giggles and doilies. So what got into R. Scott Jones, a theology teacher at St. Mary's High in Phoenix? He lost his job after giving a male student a valentine that read "I hate you, I wish you would die." He gave these out to a bunch of students, in fact. One 17-year-old reports being "freaked out" by the experience.

During class, the report stated, the teacher used an eraser to write the word "Die" on the chalkboard while looking at the boy, then smiled.

12:40:57 PM