SP has departed for a trip to the East to visit family (especially her father, The Professor), leaving Wonder Dog and me to fend for ourselves. The house is eerie when it’s empty like this. Not quiet, mind you- this is an invite for me to turn the stereo up to concert levels. And cook lots of usually-forbidden dishes with cilantro and poached eggs (not necessarily together). Maybe I can drop into the site during the week a bit more than usual. And have house-call strippers come by… oh wait, I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.

I will say birthdays out loud, though, because today is the birthday of a guy for rent; an actually interesting lawyer; a guy who we could judge; a strong argument for term limits; a guy who was almost a parody of Ivy League political “scientists”; yet another actor who thinks his political opinions matter; a Canadian dude with shrunken kids; and some dude with a big head.

Let’s move on to stuff happening now.

 

This is the beginning of a David Lynch film.

 

Shalise is butthurt.

 

Gross but correct.

 

Common sense regulation needed, right?

 

This will not end up well for us. Assume Biden will suddenly act on new information or an “incident.”

 

New Yorkers apparently love this murderous piece of shit.

 

Wasn’t this a David Bowie movie?

 

No wonder that woman looked abused.

 

Old Guy Music today is short, but much fun. Jack Lancaster is not well-known, surprising given his history, but he’s basically a clone of Ian MacDonald, which is a great compliment. Most “let’s do a rock version of a classical piece” are pretty lame. Lancaster’s isn’t.