Our skies are gray, the weather dithers between snow, ice, and rain, and there’s half-frozen mud everywhere. The town is empty, the shops are closed (except ours), and I’m on deadline for two articles so stuck inside. These are my grievances.

In the meantime, I have no Tales Of The Woke, but something weirder. SP did a test run of cupcakes to sell out of the cold case. Chocolate, with a crumbled mint candy topping. Now, one problem with our specials is that the staff loves them, and often, they never quite make it into the hands of customers. So it was with the cupcakes- one of the girls bought all of them and took them to work at her main job, a funeral home. She was late returning for her next shift and here’s the exchange in our group chat:

Girl: We had a fight break out at the funeral home but I’m coming into (next town) now.

Girl: It was very Exhilarating.

Me: Which side were you on?

WebDom: That of the dead guy I bet. Cause he’s the only one there who didn’t have to deal with it.

Girl: Unfortunately before I could do anything their was a stiletto heel in some ladies neck.

Me: Well, your day has certainly been more interesting than mine.

SP is convinced that the fight was over the last cupcake. She may be right.

Birthdays today include a guy who ran interference for me; a smart woman but who was no Einstein; the greatest pair of eyebrows of the 20th century; La Taylor Swift de son temps; a TV news/talk star whose fame has mercifully faded; a guy who filled a hole left with the departure of Desi Arnaz; a rather rapid guitarist; and some chick y’all talk about but I have no idea who she is.

Speaking of “no idea,” let’s look at Links.

 

“We’re going to keep this going forever.”

 

“But we’ll be generous and wait a couple weeks before bringing down the hammer.”

 

“And if the panic we induce kills your business, ah well, omelets and eggs.”

 

“And keep away from the Jews.”

 

It’s not just paranoia, they actually DO want to put us in concentration camps. Welcome to New York, the progressive utopia.

 

Of course we are. Those Boomers were waiting tables, loading trucks, working warehouses…

 

It’s a start, anyway.

 

Old Guy is feeling very surreal this weekend, so here ya go.