Even in retirement, with no daily routine or agenda to adhere to, would I devote even one microsecond of thought to the condition of Jeff Bridges’ cancerous tumor. No pictures needed, thank you.
Those are the same people that take and send pictures of the food they eat.
Reality alert.
Nobody cares.
A couple of inmates escaped a Cleveland prison and that is far enough north that I think I have enough time to cut down some trees, trim them into long rolling logs, trim vines and tie them together to make ropes to hold the logs in place uphill, until we see them dock and head uphill.
No wait.
That’s Swiss Family Robinson.
I still remember with great clarity the day that “escaped prison inmates” would be a term I forever link with Gary Tison and his sons and the rampage which left six innocent people murdered.
San Francisco, the once-proud jewel of northern California, has slipped so far down the totem pole people are leaving.
Leaving the traffic jams.
Leaving the crime.
Leaving the insanely high cost of living.
Leaving the unemployment.
Leaving the homeless.
And it’s not just Frisco.
L.A.
Chicago, (insert city name here).
It’s everywhere.
So how am I supposed to feel about the 122,840 criminals being held in solitary confinement every day in U.S. prisons?
Pretty damn good, I tell you.
These people are not sitting in solitary as a reward for any of their previous good behavior, so boo fucking hoo.
Some poor lady was so flustered because some young children in her neighborhood were, well, being kids. They were riding around and having fun. (I’m sure her comments were exaggerated to the point of outright disbelief).
Give it a rest, you old bat (and I speak from experience).
Shut up.
Let the kids have fun.
I used to be a big baseball fan years ago, in the days before baseball players showed the same loyalty as mongrel dogs and strted whoring out their skills to the highest bidder.
It looks like it’s the end of the line for Lebron.
#2 all-time.
My sports world shrinks down at this time of year, as I have no American football, but there is plenty of Cup and International competition to keep me going.
As a long-suffering Manchester United Red Devils fan (since I walked down the stairs to a mist-shrouded Old Trafford pitch in 1966) I await with great anticipation the final week and matches.
A club of such global legend and following surely MUST qualify for Champion’s League football next season, so we must edge out Liverpool and stop their late-season surge by winning.
That’s it.
Win and you’re in.
Here is yet another glorious difference between American sportscasters versus their British counterparts.
It was a hotly-contested match, so the American announcer said, “Life or death. The players are laser-focused and this is for all the marbles.”
On another play, an English player kicked a pass that rolled very slowly to a teammate, causing the sportscaster to remark, “Well, he didn’t kick it a million miles an hour.”
Love it.
Stay well.
