As promised, it’s cold out this morning. Like, -11° and dropping. But, since our friends up in Saranac Lake are at -34°, I won’t complain. They are, of course, making a big deal of it on the news, and about how the poor children have to wait for the bus out in the cold. Oh boo frickin’ hoo. Are these kids, or a bunch of old f*cking ladies? I don’t remember them caring about us being cold when I was a kid. Hell, we had to walk to school, and if we didn’t all bring a pocket full of coal, we didn’t have heat. OK, I may not be remembering that coal thing exactly right. But I also don’t remember feeling – let alone caring about – the cold when I was a kid. They used to have to forcibly drag me back in the house, no matter what the weather. You can bet I feel it now, though. Not just cold, either. Shit hurts.

Jack LaLanne finally croaked. And only 96, too. I always knew that whole exercise and eat right thing was just a scam. Give me the 110 year old lady who smokes cigars and does a few shots of booze every day.

Turns out, God hates Ozzy Osbourne. At least, according to the Westboro Baptist Church, whose opinions I value, and typically consult before leaving the house in morning. And they’re promising to protest him. Gosh, I didn’t even know he was gay (though he does look kinda deceased these days). I guess they’re just old school Sabbath fans who couldn’t accept Ozzy’s solo career.

If you ask me, they ought to spend their time more productively – like protesting Sammy Hagar or something.

Today is Mary Lou Retton’s birthday. I’m sure she’s a very nice person, but, for those of you old enough to actually remember who she is, haven’t you always just had the urge to smack her upside the head?

It’a also Neil Diamond’s birthday. He’s 70. And so is Aaron Neville. You ever get a look at Aaron Neville’s arms? They’re bigger around than my thighs. Yakov Smirnoff is 60, and Ernest Borgnine is 94. Now there’s a guy whose fitness routine I’m way more interested in following than Jack LaLanne’s (except for the being married to Ethel Merman part – even for a mere 32 days. You’re a tougher man than I am, Ernie. Though he did admit it was a wee lapse of judgement on his part: “Biggest mistake of my life. I thought I was marrying Rosemary Clooney”).

Oh, I know, Ernie has a bit of the old Archie Bunker in him (he wasn’t too crazy about Brokeback Mountain – “If John Wayne were alive, he’d be rolling over in his grave!” – and was a little less than kind towards the women’s rights movement: “Too many ugly broads telling me that they don’t want to sleep with me. Who wanted you anyway?”), but, well, sometimes you just have to cut people who were born during WWI a little bit of slack.

I mean, there’s a reason he’s been married 5 times (so far).

Oh well time to see about seeing about heading out into the cold.