It’s 3:08pm EST here and the sun is completely hidden behind the moon.
There are scores of people gathered at a local park not far from my house and, at the exact moment of total eclipse, the crowd hoots and hollers like it’s 1999 (thanks Prince).
Why?
Because they made it through the event?
Way to go!
You need to get the hell out of the house more often.
Even though you didn’t do shit, except take an extra day off from doing a mediocre job in an effort to further erode our GDP with your uninspired lackluster efforts.
Can you say outsource?
One day, the sun will get covered up again.
And someday it won’t reappear.
Hope I’m not here when, not if, it happens.
News bulletin.
To anyone in, or out of school.
The world does not owe you a living.
Work for what you want.
Move the fuck out of your Mom’s and Dad’s house and live YOUR life.
Man, we couldn’t wait to move out and be on our own and start the coolest adventure ever!
Pandemic’s over, so that’s now a tired bullshit excuse for laziness.
Everyone is forced to pay good money because they have to, and if you can look away from your phone screen once in a while, yeah, that would be nice, too.
Parents, it’s time for you to take the tit out of the mouth. You are doing them more harm than good by facilitating their refusal to work for what they want.
Remember, YOU have a life, too. You are subject to the same mortality rates and the ride is a short one.
Excellent parenting advice from the old buzzard with no kids.
So easy for me to say, as I prepare to stuff little plastic Easter Eggs with pieces of filet mignon for my dogs’ annual Easter Egg Hunt, which we are renewing this year in their new home.
What!!?
Another Soviet dissident dies while in custody.
I am shocked.
Not!
It’s not like the World’s Oldest Gerber Baby Food model Pooty-poot-Putin hasn’t done it before.
Your boy Trump idolizes him for that kind of power.
Man, I am excited for Master’s week.
I think it’s because it was a time that my father and I would both get excited and we would break down the entire tournament, shot by shot, and golf shot by golf shot.
Then we’d hit the course armed with a full flask, all the accumulated knowledge of time, and of course, watching the legends at Augusta National. Then we’d go out and bitch slap the ball every which way but straight.
And love every minute of it.
Speaking of which, it is now officially golf weather so I am thinking a round on Wednesday or Thursday.
I once caught a bad case of poison oak on a golf course in Oklahoma. When I went in to see my doctor, she gave me a shot, some pills, and the coy observation, “there’s no poison oak on the fairways.”
Could’ve strangled her (but in a good way!).
Stay well. (and keep ‘em on the short grass!)
