I had nothing on the brain tonight, so I decided to let loose with some of the loose change thoughts that were rumbling around inside my cranium, living all rent free and shit.
Feel free to forward any questions and/or complaints here.
- If Game of Thrones were a song, it would be a classic metal selection. Replete with gloomy bass talons, a bloodthirsty melody that plays for keeps and a hellish affiliation with the dark side. Its contagion would unleash a mad fever whose dominion would reign until the death of the last Bic lighter.
- Yeah . . last night’s episode was pretty good.
- The Celtics are going to win the NBA title. Maybe. And I don’t even mind it, except for one little detail. They’re from Boston, and that fucking town has done enough winning for Chrissakes. Since the turn of the millennia, Boston proper owns twelve titles (6 for the Patriots, 4 for the Sawx and 1 each for the Bruins and Celtics). So when (if) the Celtics win it all in June, Imma call them the Hartford Celtics. In honor of the former hockey team, the Hartford Whalers.
- President Trump’s definition of abortion sounds an awful lot like Vito Corleone’s definition of early retirement.
- Watching him talk about abortion was like watching Eli Roth read nursery rhymes on an episode of Sesame Street. On Cinemax.
- I realize that Brother Golden Hair doesn’t do briefings, but Jesus . . Mary and Trader Joe’s . . this guy does less reading than a lineman for the University of Alabama.
- Oh, and the Dems best get to stepping on this. Seriously, I want to see a hammer lock response by the beginning of business. Ta. Day. Because Trump served them up a hanging curve, and if they have any semblance of wit, wisdom, organization or common sense, they hit it out of the park.
- I love Kevin Durant in spite of the fact he acts like a dick sometimes. His game is the kind of beauty you watch whilst listening to Vivaldi (Trust me, I have). When he’s torching the nylon like a demon at last call for the end of the world, ain’t nobody does it better. And not for nothing, but he’s still winning playoff games while LeBron is catching up on his Hulu.
- But . . . he should think twice and then another dozen times before stepping into a Knicks uniform. He would be going from a platinum standard ownership group to public access stewardship. And he won’t have Steph, Clay, Draymond or Kerr. And if he thinks the West Coast media is hard on him . . ah well, maybe the Northeast cauldron ain’t his jam.
- I run three times a week. It used to be four. But then it occurred to me that I am fifty three years old and feeling pretty okay, and I’m not dead. So three times a week is plenty nuff. There was no science to these thoughts of mine, but that’s okay.
- I love WordPress, except for those times when I hate WordPress. But hey . . they’re offering cheeseburger prices for filet mignon sandwich results. So Imma stick with ’em.
- Three tornado warnings inside of two weeks in my neck of the woods. Which ain’t known for that kind of windy behavior. I find myself looking for Dennis Quaid in snowshoes. Not that there’s anything wrong with that . . .
- I asked a friend of mine if he watched the NFL draft and he responded with “I had better things to do . . like Endgame?” And after I asked him what he was talking about, I became the butt of every Marvel fanboy joke, in perpetuity.
- Hey man, it’s all about being known for something.
- Rami Malek is the next James Bond villain? Hells, I am gonna be first in line. Suck it Marvel fanboys!
- Okay . . I just said that as a literary punch to the balls of all those Marvel fanboys. I probably ain’t gonna be first in line to see Rami as the bad guy. But I will see it. Eventually. At some point . . .
- Scrambled eggs and corn chips is God’s hangover food. If God drank sin juice. And had hangovers. And . . if he did those things? He might add Sriracha sauce. Just saying . . .
- I really thought Joe Biden would jump the shark before American Idol.
- Whilst standing in the grocery checkout line, I learned that Ozzy is dying, from pain pills consumption. And that William and Kate are going through a trial separation. Oh . . and Angela Lansbury was in a cult. And most disturbing of all, birthday cake causes cancer.
It really is the end of the world as we know it. And yanno what? I’m okay with that . . .