Nothing makes me appreciate DAVID SCHMADER more than those weeks when David Schmader goes on vacation. During said weeks, when Mr. Schmader is no doubt exploring the vivacious sex-tourism industries of small nonextradition Pacific Rim nations, CIENNA MADRID is enlisted to try her hand at his regular Last Days column. One could employ any number of words to describe Miss Madrid—Latina, lesbian, drunkard—but "funny" is not one of them. As a member of the fairer sex, this is, of course, to be expected—name one female humorist worth her salt, and I will show you the insecure male comedy writer hiding behind her apron—but Miss Madrid's lack of wit is remarkable. Perhaps her material is funnier in her native tongue? This entire sad affair appears to be printed in Miss Madrid's flop sweat.

And while we are focused for the first time in years on the Last Days column, allow me to ask: Why, in this age of weblogs and tweetering, does this column still exist? Slog, The Stranger's infernal daily weblog, appears to do everything that Last Days used to do, only with more frequency and efficiency. This column may as well be renamed Last Week's News, for all the good it does readers.

At least Miss Madrid's failed attempts to be amusing prevent her from contributing to the debacle that is the news section. Unfortunately, others have picked up her slack: GOLDY tries to convince the automobile owners of Seattle to pay an unfair tax to help subsidize the Homeless Mobility Fund, and we are "treated" to a pair of unfair hit pieces aimed at the Grand Dame of Seattle Politics, Mrs. Jean Godden. That these articles are penned by glorified stenographer ELI SANDERS and unpaid intern MEGAN BURBANK only serves to further the insult.

Elsewhere: BOOKS: After demonstrating her lack of prowess at comedy, Miss Madrid proves that she is also incapable of interviewing even the friendliest of friendlies, a close compatriot of hers—I would alert the readers to a conflict of interest, but when you pick up The Stranger, you must automatically expect that every article is about a good friend or drug dealer to the author...VISUAL ART: If Miss Graves stopped going to the Frye Art Museum, do you share my suspicion that the institution would be forced to close its doors for lack of attendance? Corollary: Does anyone care about any of Miss Graves's claptrap? I suspect you could not even trick a parakeet into defecating onto the visual art section of The Stranger... THEATER: How do you coerce Mr. Kiley into showing up and sitting through the entirety of your play? Promise a sex toy in the production's title, of course... MUSIC: Mr. Mudede indulges yet another of his embarrassing crushes on a famous female. If I were the Miss Sadie whom this article is dedicated to—no last name for this songstress was provided in Mr. Mudede's piece, because informing the public does not even rank in the top six of his priorities—I would immediately file a restraining order... FILM: Didn't read... SAVAGE LOVE: Didn't read, but somehow still too gay.