Holy Christ, this has been a long week. I still have doubts about making it through ’til the end of the day. And it’s a bit nippy out there this morning, too. Not in here, though, as I fired up one of the pellet stoves last night, and it’s nice and warm inside (inside the house, that is, though it’s presumably pretty warm inside the stove, too). Ordinarily, I refuse to use any sort of heat until, oh, November or so. If you’re cold, as my dad used to tell my mom, “put some damn clothes on.” But I wanted to give the sucker a good test to make sure it runs OK, plus, well, since I probably only have a couple years of being able to pay the taxes and mortgage before all my savings are expended and I have to go live in a tent out in the woods, I figure I might as well take advantage of having heat now. ‘Cuz I see a cold, cold future a’coming.
I heard something on the lo-cal news this morning about a big cantaloupe recall. I wasn’t really paying attention, so I’m not sure if the recall of cantaloupes is big, or if the they’re recalling big cantaloupes. Big cantaloupes have never been important to me (I’m more of a leg man), and I’m really past cantaloupe season at this stage of my life, so I guess it really doesn’t matter to me anyway. The bad melons are from Colorado, so you folks out there in the Centennial State be careful.
The mother of a cancer-stricken young man had her own idea of how to spend $15,000 in benefit money raised to help him fight his illness:
She gambled it away.
“I’ve spent the money at the Seneca Niagara Casino, Buffalo Creek Casino, Turning Stone Casino, Casino Niagara, Mohegan Sun casino [in Connecticut], Harrah’s casino in New Jersey,” she wrote in her confession.
“I’m not sure how much of Ryan’s money I’ve gambled away, but it is virtually all gone,” she said in her confession.
Oh, sure, everybody thinks she an asshole, but if she’d won….
Speaking of assholes, according to a new book by Ron Suskind (and, yeah, it’s Ron Suskind as reported by Politico, so there’s likely to be more bullshit here than in the cow barn next door to me), not only does Congress consider President Obama irrelevant, but so does Timothy Geithner, and Obama’s own senior advisors. Apparently they all pat Barry on the head (and not for luck, which of course would be racist) and say “Good idea, Mister President. We’ll get right on that,” and then go do whatever they want.
If true, it’s not surprising, I suppose, but it does make one wonder who’s a bigger puppet – Obama or Bush, Jr. I think I gotta go with Obama. But that’s only because I like the guy, and would rather think of him as being clueless and spineless than that he’s doing all this on his own.
Let this be a lesson: never elect a Leo president. Obama, Hoover, Clinton…. OK, Clinton looks good in retrospect, but he was – as a result of his own actions – rather feckless (if not fu…. Well, you know).
Now that True Blood and Curb Your Enthusiasm are over with, it’s time to decide whether or not to dump my HBO subscription. I would really miss HBOGO, though, as it’s allowing me to catch up on stuff I missed (like Game of Thrones, which I have become addicted to – one more to go, and then I have to wait for season 2, though I may just have to read – yes, read, as strenuous as that sounds, though of course I’d get it on the Kindle – the books).
Well, might as well keep it, I guess. There won’t be HBO in my tent in the woods, after all.
While perusing the stories on the Crappington Post (which I do less and less in this “post-AOL” world), I saw a headline of “Scarlett Johansson Nude Photos Prompt Investigation.” I was unaware of nude photos of Scarlett (this is the kind of important journalism – or, journalism aggregation – I’ve come to rely on the HP for – along with stories about what Michelle Obama wore when she went to Europe), but the headline has certainly prompted me to engage in my own thorough investigsation.
Which I guess I better do now, because it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to do it from my work computer.
OK, let’s get this week from hell over with already.
September 16, 1972. This song was #1.