Never go beer-to-beer with mexican sharpshooter. Especially when you’re thirty years older than him (or in SP’s case, 25 years younger). That my excuse for being a bit abbreviated this morning.

Birthdays can’t wait, though: some Jew thinker; a proto-Californian; the guy who gifted us with Millard Fillmore; the guy who said, “Help yourself!” and spawned a genre; a guy whom I dearly wish was writing about contemporary politics; a guy who was the mayor of one too many people and got what he deserved for inflicting Diane Feinstein on us; and a guy with many, many stories.

Speaking of stories… news.


Don’t get excited. This is like those slasher movies where the dude keeps coming back.


Tard fight!


“We want you meddling, but our way!”


Some “writers” should not be allowed near a keyboard.


Nothing left to cut.


“Fais moi un sandwich!”




How low do you have to go when disrupting a Little League game seems like a good idea?


Old Guy Music features a true pioneer of modern jazz piano, with my favorite brushman playing behind him on a breakneck version of Honeysuckle Rose. Oh, and it’s Teddy’s birthday today, too.