The Musical Fruit
Before I hit the kitchen, here are a couple of thoughts weighing on my mind.
Wednesday Bag o’ Chill
You know, it’s a miracle I’m still around.
Is There a Dream Doctor in the House?
I think it’s widely acknowledged there’s a difference between sleeping dreams and napping dreams.
Very Fine People
It would be entirely in character for Trump, in a fit of loser spite, to pull the trigger on the kind of white supremacist street violence we saw last night.
Voter Fraud Casserole
It drives me crazy how the media pussyfoots around Republican lies by reporting “no evidence of widespread fraud.” Why “widespread?” Why not “no fraud?”
Explain This, Unexplained Monolith!
A little local color before the Thanksgiving holiday, during which I plan to blog not a jot or tittle.
The Logjam Breaks
Lordy, it’s going to be hard to be gracious in victory and not return spite for spite, but I’ll try.
Increasingly Thinking I Picked the Wrong Century to Quit Drinking
Why is everything so goddamn hard? Fucking coronavirus. It’s easy to understand why so many people want to pretend it’s no longer a threat and get back to normal life.