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The form of the destructor
The dogs get me up at oh-five-hundred hours every day. I let them out back to do their business, then pad into the kitchen to prepare their breakfast. As I filled their bowls with kibble yesterday, I remembered the coronation and turned on the TV to watch. Good on you, Charles, king at last. And you too, Camilla.
What a terrible era in which idiots govern the blind (wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more).
Both friends took me to task for lumping restrooms in with places women or men should not have to share with non-GRS transgender women or men. They’re right; I shouldn’t have.
This is a post from 2009. In it, I complained about the blurring of license plates and brand names in commercial videos and television programs, presumably done at the behest of corporate lawyers anxious to avoid lawsuits. Since then it’s grown worse, to the point where non-commercial photographers and video producers — people like you […]
I’m on my own but there are leftovers in the fridge and I shan’t want for entertainment.
I’m in my 70s now, and when I write the only organization I represent is me, so I reckon I can be a curmudgeon and disagree with the AP Stylebook on a point or two.
The annual collector car show on the golf course at Tubac was yesterday. So too was the annual Sunnywood Estates homeowners’ association meeting. On the agenda: the election of new board members … and I was a nominee. Guess which event I rode my motorcycle to?
Why Congressional Democrats conducting the impeachment inquiry aren’t focusing on Trump’s repeated violations of the Constitutional prohibition against using the office of the presidency for self-enrichment … actual, provable, criminal behavior … is beyond me.