Today is Hot Dog Day in our little village, easily the biggest holiday of the year. The pre-gaming started loudly last night and by the official 1:00 PM start, I expect that there will already be vomit lining the streets. Every ambulance and SWAT vehicle in the county is parked here in anticipation. Our little coffeeshop laid in a couple of carboys of THC-laced lemonade which we’re breaking down into 10 oz. bottles. WebDom’s review: “Me and (l0B0t) and Ginger each had a sip from the bottle. I can no longer feel my tongue. Ginger says she feels like soup.” Latest NPR Lady is heading down here to try it. It’s going to be a fun day.

Birthdays abound today, and they include the godfather of lounge music; one of the first people to ever critique our former home; the godfather of the modern Democratic Party; a guy you wouldn’t trust to run a shoe store; one of my deep inspirations; a perfect example of the wages of government incompetence;  one of my scientific heroes who literally wrote the book; the John Mayall of jazz; a guarantee of horrifically lowest common denominator entertainment; the woman who symbolized everybody’s mom; a guy whose successful pop career obscured the fact that he was a fucking amazing musician; a guy who uttered one of the most famous lines in American cinema; the Orson Welles of trash cinema and a true American hero; and an acquaintance of mine who actually had some interesting and useful things to say.

Shall we Link? Yes, let’s shall.

 

I missed the part of the Constitution which makes any of this a delegated power of the Federal government. But that Constitution thing, it’s like 100 years old and written by slaveholders.

 

Tard fight.

 

Amazing how fast this is getting buried. But who is manning the shovel? Oh, of course.

 

“Sudden health deterioration while in police custody.” We may have hit Peak Euphemism.

 

For those of us who think that scientific publishing is a racket… well… it’s a racket.

 

Plainer Language Version: When we “recalibrated” our dataset, the hockeystick went away.

 

The Old Man loves Cajun music. The real thing, not the smoothed out commercial versions. You just can’t be sad listening to it.