We’re getting near the last gasp of spring here, with the weather already hinting of the Hell to come. So I’m trying to fit in all the outdoor activities that I can while I can. And speaking of last gasp, it’s that time of the year for Team Blue as the last of the accretions fall away, leaving their ideal of the Ultimate Asshole standing. Judging from the volume of texts and calls blowing up my phone, I know who’s the most desperate (Warren), but who will be the bitterest clinger?

Birthdays today include (but are not limited to) a bullet we thankfully dodged;  a guy who didn’t get fooled again; a guy whose brother relished tranya; a politician who honored the term “vegetable”; and a pretty decent trombonist.

Now the news.

 

Another one bites the dust.

 

Next one to go?

 

Ohio Man. Florida fan.

 

If all of my concern for these entitled assholes were converted to gasoline, there wouldn’t be enough to run a pissant’s go-kart around the inside of a Cheerio.

 

“Nobody needs three private jets.”

 

It’s unusual for David Brooks to make any sense, but there’s a spot or two here where he does. Cherish that.

 

Four years later, the excuses keep coming.

 

Old Guy Music is a glimpse of what rock used to be, and how mainstream America reacted to it.