Eleven

Very long day at work, but I’m doing this because I committed to doing it.

Even though I know I shouldn’t.

But I’m thinking it might make me feel a bit better.

Mmmmmyeah.

That’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

I went to look for news, then I remembered seeing this on Twitter:

Let’s make sure we don’t offend the blessed police union.

And Kamala is the VP selection is in.

To paraphrase Michael Malice — who’s put more black people in prison, Joe Biden or Kamala Harris?

So, which couple is more interesting to share a bottle of wine with — Don and Mike, or Joe and Kamala?

I kinda doubt Don and Mike drink, but I think they’d be less likely to lock people up for choosing to do it, so I don’t know…..

Flashback time, and I have no earthly idea what this was about.


Man, that sucked. – 8/11/2003

So, I made it through, and now everybody has disappeared again.

My life continues…

And as usual, I’m insomniac.

Well, the wedding itself……I’d never met any of her family other than one of her cousins who was a bridesmaid (and has ahem grown up since she was in high school), and her mother. As expected, there were many, many more of her family there than of mine. Things went off basically without a hitch. No cold feet or anything. But the entire time was torture for me, except when I ran out to get shaving cream to fix my brother’s car.

But even worse than the wedding was the constant probing about what’s up with my love life. The answer is “nothing” followed by “and I can deal with that okay.”


I was wondering what that was about, but, reading it more closely, it was about a wedding.

Um. Yeah. I’m not going to elaborate a lot more; the marriage didn’t last.

But shaving cream does do interesting things to a Ford’s paint job.