I had no idea what that even was until some family members we have are going through issues after forty years.
Forty years.
I don’t have a clue about the new ways of going about getting married, as I was one of those saps that did the whole “struck by a thunderbolt” thing when I first laid eyes on Karen.
So for me, there was no choice.
Done deal.
But divorce, no matter if it is after two days or five decades, is not in my playbook; nor can I conceive an undoing of the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I know I am self-destructive, but that would be tantamount to suicide.
I am a selfish egotist and she still manages to love me in spite of all else.
I was a self-proclaimed life-long bachelor at age six after my childhood sweetheart broke my heart.
My take is simply this: If you can’t stand to be apart from your true love, if you count the minutes they are away, and if you absolutely cannot imagine life without them, and if you cannot do without their sweet warm breath on your neck sleeping in on a Sunday morning, they are the one.
Forever.
Not for decades and then a parting of the ways. That is not what I believe marriage to be.
All or nothing.
Unsure?
Don’t do it.
That old crap about “taking the plunge” is just that.
Crap.
You’ll know.
Those dumbfucks in California are using the old “retail policing policy” which is basically allow the thieves to take anything they want without offering any resistance whatsoever.
Except this time, they are using the policy on inmates, allowing two more prisoners to walk their asses away from a detention facility. Speaking of my native California, red tide and fluorescent wave breaks used to bring a bunch of us to the beach for the free drug-trip visuals.
Very cool.
Try Grunion running on acid; it will change your life.
Speaking of dumbasses (who isn’t bad-looking and has a pretty nice body), Representative Lauren Boebert was caught vaping at a theater screening BeetleJuice.
Now I like her.
If she vapes, she obviously enjoys hot sex and rock and roll.
Still a dumbass.
Man, I bet the recently-released American prisoners from Iran are gonna have some stories to tell…
It sounds like the missing F-35 jet over South Carolina is being caught in the old insurance game. After the pilot successfully ejected, the lost aircraft was said to be eighty million. The next story, only a few hours later, said the missing jet was worth ninety million. Now, the most recent story about the still-missing aircraft says it is a hundred million dollar aircraft.
So if I’m the insurance agent, I’m like, “OK, so you want to report a missing plane worth eighty million dollars?”
“How much are you claiming?”
“One hundred fifty million dollars”
“Where is the plane?”
“We don’t know.”
Good luck with that.
This is the best recipe for Pommes St. Anne that I used to serve at the El Encanto Resort and Villas in Santa Barbara in the mid-eighties:
3 medium potatoes (sliced thin)
20 oz. heavy cream
12 oz. Gruyere cheese
3 oz. finely-diced garlic
Spread thinly sliced potatoes evenly on sheet pan, cover with cream, sprinkle garlic evenly, and place cheese on top.
Cook for one hour at 400 degrees.
Salt and pepper to taste.
Stay well.
