I make no secret of my fandom for the Ravens, the only NFL team named after a poem. And after a very satisfying game last week, this is the last real obstacle before the playoffs, against a team named after a fish. The Ravens are minus their top two running backs and their top tight end, but this hasn’t seemed to have slowed them down. So I am spending the afternoon paying great heed to the television.

Oh, it’s New Year’s Eve? Shit, guess that means I’m going to have to cook something or WebDom and Tomb Raider will be quite huffy. After the game. I think I could manage something classic like PBJ or tortilla chips and jarred salsa.

Birthdays today include the first guy to go to Washington; a guy who always sat in the Colored section; someone who made up her biography; a guy who’s the reason that to this day we still spend billions on protecting Germany; a guy famous for doing a camp tour; a guy who impressed Jodie Foster; a guy guilty of police abuse; a guy who was a remarkably shitty pilot; a brilliant musician that, guess, who should be better known; a woman who is easy to blame for one of the shittiest musical movements in history; a biker famous for taking a knee; the most hated guy in New Mexico; and a real life Fredo.

Now my last links for 2023…

 

If this had been near Tripoli, it would have been perfect.

 

“I ain’t gettin’ hit but I’m still gettin’ paid.”

 

Those wacky kids, what’ll they do next?

 

I’m making popcorn.

 

“If we keep saying it, eventually those rubes will have to listen.”

 

I understand that Jerusalem is nice this time of year.

 

The Old Man was in a country mood this morning, which seems appropriate for my drive back to the boonies and my day ahead with America’s Sport.