“Part Deux of The Last Annual conTIMplating 2016 Presidential Voting Guide” or “Boy, Do We Have Issues”

So last week I waxed eloquent upon the upcoming presidential election, which is increasingly becoming a toss-up, as in “I’m about to toss-up my breakfast.”   If you missed last week and wish to avoid being totally lost, you may peruse it here.  Said post, as designed, sparked a short conversation with my first-time-voting progenic offspring regarding the purported leading and distressingly fingernails-on-a-chalkboard candidates seeking the aforementioned public office.

“All I know,” said Thing 2, “is that one wants to build a wall and the other really wants to be president,” which honestly sums up their campaigns rather nicely for someone who doesn’t pay attention and frankly didn’t see the need to care until we went to see Cabaret wherein the characters do little more than eat and drink and have sex willy-nilly until they end up in concentration camps.  I do love a rollicking, feel-good musical. Continue reading

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What Is It About Food That Makes Me Want To Eat It?

032Austin, Texas: named for Stephen F. Austin, considered to be the ‘Father of Texas’ and the first bionic man.  I was lucky enough to have a day to putz around in Austin recently and so I did a little googling to find out what exactly makes Austin tick other than its mild case of Turrets.  I did know that Austin is known largely for being the Blue bastion within a perpetually blushing Red state, but I didn’t want to go down that road.  One road I did want to go down was 6th Street, known largely for mayhem, collegiate debauchery, and launching up-and-coming artists into the satiatingly saturated and highly self-congratulatory music industry.

But nah.

Being a transplanted Minnesotan, I decided instead to go on safari and hunt amongst the Texan (George) bushes for that wild, elusive and somewhat dangerously delicious game found predominantly in The South of the United States known simply as Continue reading

It’s National? Punctuation! …Day.

In the spirit of shared communal togetherness, I will forward the announcement that today, September 24, is, of course, National Punctuation Day, which is why I, your blogger, have chosen to begin today’s entry with as many commas, that is, small punctuation marks, as possible.  Be sure to wish your store clerk a “Happy Holiday.”

National Punctuation Day was started in 2004 by sauerkraut sandwich inventor Jeff Rubin for the purpose of improving punctuation use and awareness among Americans who on the whole would rather care about matching towels or whether or not Twinkies are the same.  Correct punctuation usage has fallen by the wayside, says Rubin, and since the Republican strategy for dealing with this crisis is to defund Obamacare and the Democratic strategy is to call Republicans racists, Mr. Rubin decided that instead of being Batman’s sidekick, he, himself, would seek to create a day whereon the focus would be entirely hyphenated. Continue reading

Just Call Me ‘For Dinner’

If you had read this post earlier, you could have surmised from the book on the lower portion of the bottom half of my page (that is not there anymore so don’t bother looking), that I had just finished reading Crow Killer: The Saga of Liver-Eating Johnson, about a legendary mountain man of the Old American West.  What struck me most about this book is the extreme coolness of mountain man nicknames: Bear Claw, White-eye, Arkansas Pete, Hatchet Jack, Mad Mose, and of course the main character, Crow Killer, otherwise known as Liver-Eating Johnson.

This got me conTIMplating nicknames, where they come from, and perhaps most importantly, why I don’t have one.  Continue reading

Lucky 7 Reasons I Hate Las Vegas

Vegas, Baby, Yeah! My kids must live here. All the lights are on. Stolen from wikipedia.com

Vegas, Baby, Yeah! My kids must live here. All the lights are on. Stolen from wikipedia.org

I am going to admit right now that I am not a fan of Vegas:  Susan Vega, Chevy Vega, Vega from Street Fighter, etc.  I suppose the Vega Rocket is pretty cool, but that’s only because it’s a rocket.  Neither do I care for Las Vegas, which is Spanish for “The Vegas.”  My job takes me to Las Vegas fairly regularly and thankfully, it more often than not takes me out again.  Rarely do I look forward to visiting for a number of reasons, and that number is Lucky 7—not to be confused with Lucy 7, the episode where Lucy reads the wrong horoscope for the day and she ruins Ricky’s business deals as a result.  Hilarity ensues. Continue reading