We’re already preparing for the four day weekend. Large delivery of alcohol from Total Wine (I love living in 2019 America!), including a few bottles of Feteasca Neagra in honor of the Glibs’ favorite vampire, and the spiritous components of dbleagle’s egg nog. I found some delicata squash, and am about to do some ambitious grocery collection. Mom keeps asking us if she’s eaten yet (she just put away about a football player’s ration), then tells us she’s not hungry. We’ll give her a couple of glasses of vodka (“It’s local Artesian water! Good for you!!!”) to quiet her a bit. Maybe give some to Wonder Dog as well. I should lay off because after I drink, I start tweeting.

Then again, there’s birthdays to celebrate, including the greatest horror actor ever– EVER; a guy who makes you wonder why anyone ever paid any attention to Marcel Marceau;  the fattest pitcher with the shakiest windup; and a horrible cultural appropriator (who taught me everything I know about Mexican cooking).

Oh yes, news.


In the ongoing circus, “mistakes were made. But don’t worry, not by anyone powerful or famous.”


The downside of automatic bill payment.


Let Joe grope Lindsay. Problem solved. Everyone wins.


In local news: this is impressive. Thank god he passed all of his drug tests.


I have an alibi. The absolute lack of any regard for criminal defendant rights by the people quoted in this article is sadly expected.


Basically, we fucked them into extinction.


I’m not sure of how to get snarky about this.


Grup no more.


Old Guy Music continues my trend of highlighting traditional Jewish musi… fuck it, let’s listen to the Jimi Hendrix of country music.