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Jun
30 |
 Brent insisted the new Michael Moore movie would be something to see, even for the politically-resistant like myself. I have nothing against Moore other than his "documentaries" having a history of fictitious facts and padded statistics. I find him to be the Rush Limbaugh of the left, full of bloviation, mindless rhetoric and enough hot air to, well you get my point. So he (Brent) rides my jock for five days, anxious for Moore's new "documentary" Sicko. I agree to go along because that's the kinda guy I am, always up for satisfying my fellow man or date or neighbor or whoever the antagonist may be.
A small popcorn, bottled water and smuggled bag of Whoppers later, we're there, and I'm struggling over having paid this guy (Moore) 12 precious dollars to see his take on America (bad, bad America. White guys bad. Karl Marx good) and its state of health care, or lack thereof.
The sad part about this adventure isn't that half the Whoppers melted into a lump of gooey, chocolatey malt during transport in the baggy pocket of my cargo shorts, it is that most every point the man makes in his film is correct. Sure, Moore really does hate so much about this country, dedicating about five minutes of the film to canonizing Hillary Clinton; He does everything but hold the camera on a 'Hillary for President' placard. Still, it's sad, and depressing and all too true. During the film, near a portion that demonstrates L.A.'s notorious habit of 'patient dumping', Mike asks "who are we? Is this what we've become?" Questions I don't think we ask enough in our country and of ourselves.
There's way too much to get into, but the film hits a bull's eye. Sure, he compares us and our system of health coverage to the French, Brits, Slovenia, and Canada and spends the last part of the film praising Cubans, even taking four of his health care-desperate subjects to Havana for treatment by Cuba's finest medical professionals. Okay, THAT was a stretch and so very pure Michael Moore. His love for socialism and Marxist ideology is never cloaked, but the truth is the truth and that truth is, people in France and the U.K. and Canada and Cuba simply don't have to pay for their major health care, or pay very little at worst. One lady's cancer medication here is $125 per Rx, and she needs it twice a month; and she's unemployed, and has two kids; and did I mention she's single? In Havana, the cost was .5 cents. In Canada, it was free.
So I left a bit enlightened, still knowing Michael Moore for what he is and thankful for it, to an extent. Will it change anything? No. Democrats are Democrats and Republicans are Republicans my friend. They'll not change until we force them so the lesson here is not as much about what our politicians will or will not do, as much as it IS about our own complacency, and I'm afraid for now that's a chronic condition we're destined to suffer for a long time coming.
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Jun
22 |
 I've been reading about that Long Island couple who were taken to court earlier this week over their wilding little girls who are so loud and obnoxious; the neighbors felt they had no other choice but to get litigious after several prior complaints to both the family and local cops.
William and Rachel Poczatek were taken to court after neighbors launched several complaints about the hysterical noises their two daughters cause while playing in the family's backyard pool, one of those above ground jobs; not what you might think for Long Island, but that's beside the point. Apparently the children, ages 5 and 11 get completely out of hand while playing Marco Polo. My first thought was "kids will be kids, what's the neighbors' problem?" That's the kinda guy I am see, always giving the benefit of the doubt to the youngsters. Yissiree. But my deep suspicions about how these kids might have exacted such an outcry were confirmed yesterday when I saw a news broadcast where the neighbors played a tape of the little banshees. In 30 minutes of the recording, those kids nearly broke the tape recorder and one comes away with the impression that a little of it, perhaps is being done to egg the neighbors on. This was NOT typical child-like hoots and hollers, it was outright screams and screeching at the very high decibels a 5 and 11 year old can put out: And in my book, an 11 year old is simply too long in the tooth to carry-on the way that one does, more reason to suspect the kids might be yanking the neighbors' chain with passive encouragement from mommy and gumba daddy.
This reminded me of before I left New Orleans and the way families with young children began lining Mardi Gras parade routes with tall painting ladders which they'd modify with kid seats at the top. As if that weren't bad enough, they'd taken to chaining them together in some twisted spirit of people-with-kids solidarity as to block out other people from standing in front of them, thus preventing the offspring from catching more beads and such. Crazy stuff, don't you agree?
Hey, I LOVE kids, especially little bitty ones, but I'm a firm believer that your rights end where mine begin. Seeing the transition my own neighborhood is going through and how many more young, upscale families gentrification is bringing, it's apparent every day that much of the new breed of mommies and daddies simply don't care if they block the sidewalks with SUV-sized baby strollers and decide to roll them right into the cramped coffee shops and cafes around the neighborhood. Apparently the new mantra of parenting is 'to hell with you, I've got kids'. Attention: squeezing out a puppy doesn't entitle you to special social rights and privileges. Hiding behind the battle cry of "it's for the CHILDREN!" is getting quite old.
I see this issue reaching class-war proportions. I've picked my side and have my water gun and sling shot at the ready.
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Jun
20 |
 I don't like getting older, I really don't. Who does, right? But for me it's worse, and if you disagree, get your own blog. I notice it a bit more each day; like when the guy inside my head won't let me rest until I know the stray trash in front of the house is picked-up and so I go out to do it. I've actually bought rubber gloves just for the chore. The surgical kind. What kind of young hipster do you know who'd do that? Eh? Tell me. Others may see someone at the threshold of 40 who's maybe, just a little hypersensitive about his milestone. What I see is a quickly aging guy who has a little dog he talks to while in the shower. Sometimes in a baby voice. I don't care, I'll own it. Like you haven't done it a time or two yourself.
I'm noticing lots of things I contribute to age: My worship of all things spicy is forsaking me. A craving for pizza that I turn into a dinner, dripping in Tabasco and jalapenos now requires careful self analysis and consideration and strategic planning not unlike the storming of Normandy. "Wait, what do I have going on in the morning? Do I have time to sit around and wait for the spicy jalapeno pizza to exact its fiery revenge? Is there Pepsid in the house? Alka-Seltzer? Cold milk? TP?"
With age comes certain intolerance, while I always figured I'd grow into a Zen-like understanding and tolerance; like when the ghetto kids who walk through our neighborhood boldly drop their emptied Frito bags. I should just kinda ignore that and shrug my shoulders and say "eh, kids!", right? No. I don't do that and it makes me angry. Not just a little angry, but an I-want-to-drink-their-blood angry. Kids! The intolerance extends to people and things and little hard-headed dogs who hurt or offend or won't listen to me when I say "No" and "Don't eat that!"
It's becoming easier to sever the people and things and situations that hurt me, except for food. I've recently discovered a food allergy. One that's popped-up out of nowhere. Honey. Never mind I could always suck it down with a straw if I wanted to (not that I have. No, never. I'm serious), used it in coffee until I weaned myself off sweeteners. I've discovered that if I use it as a quick antidote for a sugar craving, it swells the neck a little and sets off an itchy reaction in my inner ear, the sensation as close to medically diagnosed insanity as I care to get. Yet I keep going back. It can't really be a sudden food allergy, can it? I'll just take a little taste. Maybe it's the combination with the B12 vitamin. Woop, there it is again. No, is it really? Better take another taste...and so on. Unlike people, I seem to give food items 4th and 5th and 30th chances to prove me wrong. The moral here? There is none.
I saw my buddy JJ yesterday afternoon biking through the neighborhood. JJ's an artist along with her husband; they own a successful sign and graphic company here in Boston. She's 53 years old with the body of a svelte 30 year old; yoga, cycling/and or running everyday, a constant happy-high, one of those people you want to strangle before you've had your coffee. And did I mention she's training for a bike marathon and race in Italy this September? As we stopped and talked JJ suggested she 'train me' for a few months to get me back to fighting strength. I shrugged it off and said I was easing back into spinning and light training, which translates to a gym visit once every two weeks. "Bullshit" she said. "That'll get you nowhere." I told her I wasn't easing toward 40 very gracefully, but she said "40 is the new 25". Yeah, well 50 is the new dead, lady, and you've got plus-3 years on it. I had to submit for that comment and we begin training on Saturday morning. Wish me luck.
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Jun
18 |
 MSNBC is running a piece today on the U.S. Government's failure to provide mental health care to its veterans, particularly those returning from wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Could you imagine, being a 21 year old kid who goes to war, expecting to eliminate 'weapons of mass destruction' only to learn it was a sham and in the process being shot at, having to kill people, ordered to collect body parts, seeing a sea of blood and gore; and once you're home, you can't even see a shrink or have benefits to cover it, or be forced to use some DOD-run care facility like Walter Reed?
I'm the kid of a Korean vet and cringe when I hear my dad has had to seek care at the local veterans' hospital and clinics back in Mississippi.
All this while Congress grants itself and its employees some of the best healthcare coverage on Earth. Something is very, very wrong here.
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Jun
17 |
 I need a vacation and almost anyplace will do. It's been about seven years since I've just gone some place for five days or more, just for the hell of it. You might think it's easy enough but it really isn't. Working for yourself only complicates matters, typically because you can't afford or justify the cost of pointless getaways.. I get lumps in my throat to see photos of friends or friends of friends who go rafting through the Grand Canyon or hiking in Utah or skydiving over Ft. Lauderdale. That's me! I love all those things! Why can't I do that?! I don't NEED weeklong shopping sprees in Europe, any wilderness outside New England will do.
Greece, Rome or Italia's Tuscan region, Paris, Utah, South Florida: I don't care anymore. I just want to get away and know there's work for me when I get home and that the dog is taken care of. I had big dreams of Pamplona and the Running of the Bulls, and that's no early Hemingwayesque midlife crisis talking. I really want to go and have for years. But try convincing friends you want to plan a trip with them to Pamplona Spain and stand back as eyes roll like marbles. I've given up on those plans but not on a week, hell, TWO weeks on a beach or river, or in a sunny Italian wine valley. Anyplace far away that would give me adventure and a new memory. I think I've exhausted all the ones I had. It's time.
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Jun
16 |
 So soon-to-be former Durham D.A., all around white devil and darling of the radical Durham, NC black community Mike Nifong has been disbarred, but only after a few of days of him whimpering and feigning deep sorrow during his hearing before the state's Bar disciplinary panel.
The North Carolina Bar found Nifong guilty on Saturday of most of the charges against him including misconduct and deceit. Nifong, apparently thinking he'd steal a little thunder from the three-member Bar panel, issued a statement late Saturday before the panel issued its penalty saying he agreed he should be disbarred. This after he resigned from the stand on Friday. This guy knows no shame and I'm looking forward to a criminal trial which, with any luck, will see him locked away as the bitch of some 7 foot guy named Tyreese.
In the meantime, no massive protests against the rape of justice which occurred there. No females or massive Duke student demonstrations with candle-lit vigils as there were against the three wrongly accused WHITE GUYS last spring. Al Sharpton and his cronies are a no-show, and I was so convinced they fought for injustice anywhere. No apologies. Not one.
Justice served? Yeah, perhaps. But the machine it took to get to this point was nothing short of a miracle. How many innocent men sit in prison today, victims of a simple female finger pointed in their direction with an accusation of rape. Let's hope this case turns the tide on point-and-click prosecutions based on simple accusations which hold no weight. In the meantime, no charges have been filed against accuser Crystal Mangum. Sad, isn't it?
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Jun
15 |
 I've spent the last few weeks getting to know my new neighbors in the most intimate ways and I'm wondering if that's by design on their part or an accidental process. See, the brick sidewalks that line our neighborhood are charming and make nice clip-clop-clip-clop sounds when you walk down them with heels or dress shoes. That's a good thing. The drawbacks are that they reveal lots of little trash items more easily than your average sidewalk. NOT that any sidewalk is capable of concealing pizza boxes and emptied bottles of vitamin water and numerous spent cigarette butts because that's what my neighbors enjoy leaving in front of their $2 million brownstone. They don't own it of course, only rent the bottom floor.
One might think those who have $4800 to pony-up each month for a three bedroom in Boston's South End would be the types who aren't keen on using used pizza boxes and Old Navy bags as trash containers on trash day. One would be wrong. Dead wrong. So like some crazy old man, the type that most every neighborhood has, I make a twice weekly sweep of the sidewalk out front, collecting their bottles and stray boxes. Oh look, somebody got new Steve Maddens. And somebody enjoys X-box games, even if they DO look to be late 30s. Rolling Rock? I would have figured them as Amstel or dark lager types. It's a shame to admit I know the brand of personal hygiene pads my female neighbor uses but it's that or some even more uncomfortable confrontation by asking them to secure their trash bags each Tuesday and Friday. So fine, I invest in a little pack of rubber gloves and consider it my own little community service.
I doubt I'll get a "sorry" or thank-you card from the neighbors. The sad reality is, they're clueless, at least until I blow my top or decide to reintroduce that Rolling Rock bottle to their living room by way of the large window out front. Yeah, I know. I won't do that either, but maybe I'll get some good empty shoe boxes out of it.
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Jun
13 |
 It's only 10:30 a.m. and I've already been asked for my mother's maiden name, the obligatory Social Security Number, date of birth, bank account number and driver's license info. Yes. I'm not joking here. And it was all extracted during a simple call to the cable company to drop HBO and a request for a new parking sticker.
Why can't people operate with a simple identification along with first and last? I have better things to do today, project work to shill, a baby gift to mail, praying I'll win a new Mercedes. And on top of it all, the dog has a runny nose. I DON'T like seeing a dog with a runny nose. Go ahead and laugh, but they're like kids to those of us lonely enough to see them as such. YOU see a dog with a runny nose, I see a vet bill; about as welcoming as an iron lung or enduring a Michael Moore movie.
I've tried asking some of the customer service drones why they need such information. Do people actually call the cable company pretending to be other people with their address and full names and phone numbers, all in a plot to cancel their HBO? Is someone rogue enough to deposit money in my account and go through the trouble of making a fake ID just for the evil joy of doing it? Do such dyslexic criminals exist? It's all in the name of safety I'm told, at least that's what their script tells them to say.
Sorry, I needed to let that out. It's here and now or growing old and bitter, eventually telling it to a bartender through the bottom of a shot glass and tequila farts.
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Jun
12 |
 American men and women, heroes all, as of today only and not inclusive of the other innocent lives lost. Beautiful and each with a life and someone who loved him or her. 3,494 all dead, because they were told there was something to be feared in the deserts of Iraq. Weapons of destruction on a massive scale. The weapons were never found, but those precious people were lost forever. The weapons were fiction, but not the lives and I wanted to stop and think of them. I bear so much of the responsibility for helping to elect the man who's responsible. I'm so sorry. 3,494. What a waste. And a shame and a pox on our history. It's so very unAmerican and unGodly, why don't more Baptist ministers speak out against it? 3,494 Americans' blood spilled in a foreign place because they wanted to protect you and me and Keegan and Tom and Andy and Vicki and aunt WhatsHerName.
The media is consumed by a rich white girl in Los Angeles and who will win TV talent shows and life goes on for all of us, except for Bill Newman and Timothy B. Cole jr. and Robert Liggett and 3,491 other boys and girls and men and women and countless broken hearts of dads and moms and sisters and partners and little kids who will ask why. Be still my aching heart.
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Jun
11 |
 "But you're not leaving him for good, right?"
"Hell no, but HE doesn't know that."
"Well, what're you gonna do?"
"I'll leave for a week and then when I'm back, I'll hold-out for a couple of months."
"Hold out? Will that actually help or hurt the relationship?"
"It'll teach him a lesson to respect me more."
"How?"
"Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder."
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Jun
10 |
 I woke up at 6am to sun and a Cavalier hybrid pawing at my arm for a rare early morning cuddle session. Even for a love-ready bachelor it doesn't get any better than this. Or maybe it does and I'm just used to it.
Anyone thinking about summer reading? Does anybody really do that? If so I have two recommendations: The Reagan Diaries by Ronaldus Magnus himself. Love or hate him, it's a fascinating look into the man's brain, personal life and eight-year presidency during the excessive 1980s, the height of the Cold War and all things Reagan. The other is Ant Farm & Other Desperate Situations by humorist Simon Rich. It's comprised of several very funny pieces including musings on how a sultan talks to his women and the names a depressed Crayola employee might try to give crayons. Both are a day at the beach and you can find them on Amazon, of course.
Heather Small and Natasha Bedingfield songs are blaring from the stereo, windows are open, sun and air are pouring in, fresh from the rain promising a new week to start all over again. I could sit here all day drinking coffee and Boost, and maybe I will. Or maybe I'll head to Boston Common with the college students and tourists who ask for directions to Cheers and the Boston Baked Bean Factory. "There's no such thing but I recommend Olive Garden.".
Shit, scratch that. I have a thousand loads of laundry and tortilla chips to buy. It's Soprano's finale night. Have a nice day.
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Jun
9 |
 Delicious, peaceful quiet, that's what I hear right now. It's 7 a.m. Saturday morning and I woke particularly early. The dog is sleeping and while getting up even earlier is typical of me, I'm not often conscious this early on a Saturday.
I forgot how nice it could be. My tree-lined street which can typically be hustle-bustle, part of Boston's lush South End neighborhood yet close enough to Massachusetts Avenue to hear frequent sirens and trucks and rude drivers and all the other sounds such cities bring. But not right now. Only the birds, that's it. Not even a car. Maybe the fog has kept people in bed especially late, and maybe this is what 7a.m. on a Saturday morning brings, I've just never taken the time to listen. I'm always in a hurry to grab my coffee and hit the remote, but this sweet quiet is better than anything the tube could show, so I've left it off.
Today is Boston's 'Gay Pride', the gays are proud. Of what, I'm not quite sure. I'd rather see it as a day and weekend focused on civil rights but that's what makes me different. Today in my neighborhood, there will be dancing men in leather harnesses and drag queens in sequined mermaid gowns and Marilyn wigs, all dancing down Tremont Street toward Boston Common. The obligatory women on motorcycles and guys with tie-dyed flags marching in unison will play their part also. But for now, only peace and quiet with morning birds calling out. I wish it wouldn't end.
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Jun
8 |
 In Selmer, Tennessee today, Mary Winkler, who killed her preacher husband with a shotgun blast to the back as he lay sleeping in bed, was sentenced to less than 3 years in prison and also given time-served. Winkler's defense was based in part on claims her husband abused her psychologically by coming down on her for writing bad checks and making her wear hooker shoes during sexy time.
Further proof that in America, a clitoris not only grants you special laws, accepted double-standards and immunity from the draft; it also assures you soft treatment when you blow someone's head off, as long as you say you're a battered woman.....
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Jun
8 |
 Has Bush been nuked a'la the former KGB spy in the U.K.? One might speculate. Bush's drama is putting us in yet another bad light, no surprise there. Hopefully though, it's legit and not the result of last night's party binge.
After meeting with Pooty Poo on Thursday, the President's people say he's come down with a stomach thang and sidelined himself at the G8 in Rostock. Anybody remember when daddy tossed his salad at a Tokyo summit back in 1992? I do. I felt sorry for President Bush back then, but my feelings for Jr. aren't quite so sympathetic.
"I'm not sure if it's a stomach virus yet or something like that," said Dan Bartlett, the President's chief counselor. "He's just not feeling well in the stomach."
I've felt the same way for about four years now.
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Jun
7 |
 I'm a great uncle, again. My beautiful neice Tory just had her first little one down in Louisiana. Keegan Elijah Neely is 4-plus lbs. and while there are a few issues, overall he seems to be mightly healthy and now breathing on his own.
He's had a tough 9 months of it for such a little guy and this is one of those days I wish I was back down south to bask in the sunshine a little baby brings.
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Jun
6 |
 I'm waiting for the shit to hit the fan on the whole Lewis 'Scooter' Libby/Bush pardon issue, which isn't really an issue yet, but will be.
Most of the media is reporting a likely or at least highly speculated pardon of Vice President Dick Cheney's former aide, convicted of perjury in the case of outed CIA bunny Valerie Plame.
Will George W. Bush create a new firestorm controversy by pardoning Libby or will he take a pass, angering those who say Libby was an obvious scapegoat to save Cheney's job? It's a sad thing we're even talking about such things.
But while pardoning anyone convicted of a crime should be absolutely abolished due to the elitist double standard it creates and the message it sends by proving you CAN be above the law if you know the right people, are you really surprised by it? It's nothing new.
Paris Hilton sits in a special jail cell in Los Angeles today, isolated from the other inmates and having received very special treatment in both the booking of her entry and in the way her case has been handled. If I were a resident of Los Angeles, I'd be hard pressed to stand in the street and protest until I was joined by thousands of others. One nation, one set of rules and one set of punishment guidelines for all of us, right?
From Richard Nixon to Martha Stewart to OJ Simpson, seems like our judicial process is one giant set of double standards. Why's it okay for an unattractive woman convicted of drunk driving to sit in a general population cell in the Los Angeles Women's Correctional Facility while Paris Hilton receives such preferential treatment? This is all rambling of course but my frustration isn't as much with the system as it is with our general population's complicity about the whole thing.
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Jun
5 |
 While getting dressed this morning, I overheard someone on one of the morning shows saying that everything you need to know about your life, or the state thereof, could be found by opening your medicine cabinet.
I had no idea what the vein of conversation was but I couldn't resist the curiosity and self analysis. Let's see, Imodium, Pepcid, Alka-Seltzer, there's some kinda cream, hair gook, lots of pain killers, the only one I really take though is the Aleve. Those med bottles are old pain killers from my back injury. I'm not one to take pain killers unless I really have to but just can't throw away good drugs which may come in handy...There's Robitussin from my recent Spring cold, (at least I think that's what it was), and some sore throat stuff. ThermaCare Heat Wraps which is really good stuff, I love it. And Gold Bond Powder, (I have no idea when or why.)
This is definitely the medicine chest of a guy turning 40, and a bit too many acidy, bad stomach concoctions. I'm too young to become my dad so I'll have to work on cleaning it out by adjusting my needs for most of it. The Aleve and ThermaCare though, I'm keeping.
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Jun
4 |
 Ryan weighs 300lbs and it's killing him. He's a great guy who volunteered with me a few weeks back at the battered womens' home and we've become fast email pals. Ryan's a nice guy, somewhat quiet, obviously a huge heart of gold and very self conscious about the weight he says he's gained the last few years. Saying I relate is a gross understatement. I've tried to gently push him towards cardio, especially Spinning; but what works for me apparently doesn't come so naturally to others.
Our conversation renewed an old frustration of mine though. Ryan has no obvious inspiration where methods are concerned, no weight loss plans or diets targeted at him aside from the occasional Dan Marino NutriSystem commercial.
As with most things, advertisers target a female demographic when it comes to things like fashion, beauty/looks, personal hygiene and of course, the holy grail of them all, weight loss.
While nothing prevents him from trying any method across the weight loss spectrum, nobody is out there speaking to HIM, the way Dove targets those pretty fat women by telling them their curves are beautiful and that "real beauty" is not what you see on the cover of Vogue. That's all fine and well, and I love Dove for doing it but there are fat guys out there too you know.
Maybe if L.A. Weight Loss would show some successful male weight loss stories, or Kirstie Alley's new sidekick would be the fat guy from her Star Trek days who lost a load, that might help. Sure, we had Jared the Subway guy, but how long can you milk inspiration from that?
Companies, like daytime television marketers need to realize there are more and more men who don't fit the traditional advertising demographic. Many work from home. We like to shop at Target too. Plenty of us have some weight to lose. Lots of men are self conscious about THEIR bodies and are willing and able to spend money on products we feel a kinship with, on companies we know want our business.
Who's asleep on Madison Avenue and why?
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Jun
4 |
 I recorded the Democratic debate late night. Could I be the only guy in America who wakes up to actually WATCH a political debate while having coffee?
I'm on a journey for the first time in my life, so this stuff is important. That journey is decided who to cast my one, lonely yet precious vote for in the 2008 Presidential election, without any loyalty to one party or ideology. I've promised to keep my eyes open, to educate myself, to vote for the Democrat, Republican or Independent who I think will best lead the greatest country in the world and hopefully un-do some of the damage caused by both Republicans AND Democrats over the past 8 years.
So here's my recap: Chris Dodd did the best job at bringing himself and his platform thus far into sharper focus as informed, forceful, independent and realistic. Whether that will translate into poll numbers (or my eventual support) remains to be seen but I think he did the best at breaking out of the shadows of the top three.
Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama lost no ground with Hillary seeming a bit more relaxed than the last debate and Obama seeming slightly more of the defensive, his shiny nickel, newcomer honeymoon period obviously coming to its predicted end.
John Edwards continued his annoying, buttery-fake effort to sound overtly Southern and more "Democratic-than-thou" as someone else stated. Just his voice tends to annoy me and I'm not sure if it's the blatant patronization he engages in or the fact he's simply trying too hard. Look, I have no doubts the guy is gay. And I can say that. The GayDar thing is true ya know, so I have every reason to WANT to like him. But I promise, I'll keep trying.
Bill Richardson mistook an Iraq war soldier's mother for his wife and reflected the self-absorption that offset many of the sensible things he had to say. By the end of the evening, he'd repeated his resume a dozen times. Yes Bill, we know you were Energy Secretary AND a New Mexico governor. Okay, now what?
Mike Gravel continued his grumpy, crotchety, grey-fox grandfather shtick and Dennis Kucinich was, well, Dennis Kucinish, bland as Wonder Bread.
The tone was cordial, serious and somewhat informative. Let's see how the red team does on Tuesday night. My expectations aren't much higher but I'm wondering if Thompson will be there.
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Jun
3 |
 SUNDAY AFTERNOON: I blame global warming. It's rained on and off all weekend and I'm sick of it. It makes me sleepy and drained and grumpy and nostalgic and sad. I don't especially care for any of those feelings or sensations.
Boudreaux is hiding under the bed I think, his afternoon walk complete, half-chewed rawhide and a sticky Santa Clause chew toy from last Christmas are at my feet. My kitchen is messy. My kitchen is never messy, but it is today.
Something about the new neighbors downstairs. They seem to have peculiar cooking habits, the odor creeps upward sometimes and it's too potent not to miss. And in recent days I've seen large horse-flies in our neat, quiet entry-way. I wonder if their cooking has anything to do with it.
RJ hasn't called to apologize, and I doubt she will after her dreadful outburst on the phone two nights ago.
I ordered Chinese food today, something I shouldn't have done for lots of reasons, but it was a great lunch and will make even better eating during the Sopranos. Sometimes I hate being a bachelor. A movie with the neighbors last night reminded me of that. Everyone coupled-up. The neighbors, the twinks in front of me, the old queens beside me, the couple directly behind me.
This is what rain does to me. :-\
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Websites and their upkeep don't come cheap and a buck here or there really helps.
Thanks for your support!
-JD
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