Things haven’t been the same around here since sexual harassment reared its ugly head. (Perhaps “head” is a poor choice of words…) It all started when one of my employees accused me of sexual harassment, which is ridiculous. She’s not even my type. Everybody knows I like my women the way I like my petroleum: light, sweet, and crude. OK…just kidding! But because of this we all had to take a sexual harassment awareness course where I learned I can be sued if one of my employees harasses someone! Tony-who’s opening for me this week-is an example. (And when I say “opening”…see how quickly it happens?) If Tony does anything overtly sexual as my opening act—like, for example, his act– I could be in big trouble. Meanwhile, our newfound awareness of sexual harassment has made us all so uptight we’re afraid to even hug each other or make friendly, innocent comments like, “Nice caboose, sex machine. How much?” Here’s the point: I know sexual harassment is a very serious issue, but how much more aware of it can I be before I stop being Joan Rivers?