Following some massively sweaty work, the yard is now clean of dogshit, which will last about an hour, as Wonder Dog realizes she has a black canvas on which to express her art. There’s a metaphor in there for my life. SP is arrived in New York, where she will reign terror on miscreants for the next week. I am feeling sated from dinner last night, which was delicious, but somewhat heavier than a uranium-tungsten alloy. So things could be worse.

Birthdays today are not quite as thick on the ground as yesterday’s, but still, there was a guy more logical than Spock; an Ur-cultural appropriator; a delightful woman who lives on in most of the folks here; a woman who inspired hundreds of sick jokes; the guy who taught Paul Newman and Jackie Gleason; one of the icons of my childhood; a guy who made Dana Carvey; a piece of shit lawyer and politician, but I repeat myself; and a guy who made films almost as banal as Steven Spielberg’s.

Let’s see what we can do to find some discussion-worthy links.

 

Took that a step too far, did we? Whatever, we’re still going to take it up the paycheck, good ‘n’ hard.

 

“It’s unbearable out there.” This is someone who should avoid coming here.

 

She gets 75% of the way there, then goes off the rails. For profit, of course.

 

2.6? And that’s news? I’ve had bigger bowel movements than that.

 

I’m trying to decide the appropriate trigger warning.

 

The cutest squatters.

 

Old Guy Music is yet another band whose talent and creativity far outstrip their fame. This song is… massively delightful.