Pacing Ourselves
Streaming TV was made for folks like me.
Garbage In, Garbage Out
Putting out the garbage first thing in the morning once a week is just an extra step in my morning chores. So far it’s working: today there’s garbage all up and down the street, but none of it’s ours.
Tuesday Grab Bag
“Hey,” I said to her as I walked out, “that was kind of fun.”
How Do You Say “They’re” in Spivak?
Damn it, I’m old, and preferred pronouns other than he and her are fingernails on a blackboard to me.
Friday Bag o’ Cahoots
I’m told Craigslist is no longer the place to sell things; Facebook Marketplace has supplanted it. Is there nothing Facebook isn’t busy taking over?
Another Year Shot To Hell
My calendar year starts on the first day of November, and ends on October 31st, Halloween. Show me a Halloween baby who doesn’t feel the same way, and I’ll show you a soulless robot programmed to go along with the crowd.
Air-Minded: MIDAIRs & ZELLs & FOD, Oh My!
Am I the only person in the world who worries about shit like this? Probably.
Boomer Yells at Clouds
How hard can it be to write a damn headline? Why does the person who wrote that shit have a cushy job at a major newspaper and not me? Am I being too picky?