“My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
“Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.
“What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
“I never know what you are thinking. Think.”

I think we are in rats’ alley
Where the dead men lost their bones.

Birthdays today include a guy memorialized in the best comic strip ever; another fucking lawyer; a guy who turned beer into urine without using kidneys; a weird cult figure admired for his stupid shit, not his great shit; a guy who ate a cookie and couldn’t shut up about it; what civil rights leaders used to be before they won and had to turn to grift; the white version of Laquanda T’kiana; a believer in free enterprise; Michael Strahan’s spirit animal; a guy who had only one notable quote (“The next four years will be filled with pretty words and pretty music and a lot of goddamn nonsense!”); my favorite wrestler when I was a kid; Ilhan Omar’s spirit animal; a cop, a judge, and a bolt-necked giant; a guy who is sadly remembered for the wrong reasons; a notoriously leftist folk singer who was basically on our side; my former representative, who was a half-decent guy; and a guy who doesn’t play accordion.

And now, comme s’habitude, Links.

 

“Totally not CIA.”

 

And how about, “Go fuck yourself,” for an answer?

 

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

 

This drops into one of my areas of deep professional expertise. There is more bullshit than you can find at a cattle ranch. 

 

Do we no longer believe in constituent service?

 

Michael Pollan continues to be a neo-Puritan fuckwit.

 

I really am starting to suspect that SugarFree is writing this shit.

 

Old Guy Music is Zappa breaking the cardinal music store rule. Fuck, that was a great band.