As October draws to a close and the temperatures ratchet down here, I have been doing everything I can to stay far, far away from the drama and intrigue enveloping our business: a stormy relationship, on and off, between two of the kids, where each is trying to enlist allies. An announcement from one of our loud bisexuals that she now has a boyfriend and is conflicted. An announcement from one of our fragile snowflakes that she’s now switched from a boyfriend to a girlfriend, but fears that she has bisexualphobia. Much terror from one of our girls that there is a malevolent ghost in the basement storage room and she WON’T go down there. I just work at the grill and try to pretend that none of this is happening while internally laughing my ass off.
What IS happening, though, is birthdays, including the guy who couldn’t wait to wipe his ass on the freshly-written Bill of Rights; a guy who cursed- a LOT; a guy who inspired a shitty pop tune; the prime example of disgusting shitheads whose art is undeniable; a guy who figured that “Angelo Siciliano” was not a memorable name; star of the shittiest cult movie ever made; a guy who wasn’t bright but was one helluva badass; a pioneer of TV news people’s incorrect belief that they’re doing something important; the truer version of The Day The Music Died; a brother-in-law of several dummies; one of my teenage fantasy women who was stone cray-cray; the nemesis of Peggy Hill; and a hatchet face who managed to marry a money dude.
Let’s do links while I pretend I don’t hear the kids talking.
- Odds, anyone? Lay the money down on the Groper Guinea or the Revenge of the Woke!
- “Potentially” Aren’t we having a bit of a problem already? Nah…
- Oh, what a triumph! The British used to measure how many survivors retreating from the Khyber Pass they had…
- Proof again that the snowflakes I work with aren’t any more stupidly silly than the Official Teams.
- Of course it was the Jews.
- Leaders of the nations of the world need to join hands and… raise taxes.
Old Guy Music features a birthday lad, one who died way too soon, yet left an outsize mark on jazz. Donna Lee is a wild-ass Charlie Parker tune, and Brownie makes it even wilder. Fuck, this is GREAT playing.