The problem is that it doesn’t feel like July because it’s not, nowhere near it. In fact it’s only February and only a day after Valentine’s. And baby it’s cold outside which is only succeeding in making me feel older. While I’m not old I am getting older, I have last month’s birthday as evidence and I’m feeling the cold in ways I never have before.

Yeah yeah, that’s a sign of getting older and that’s not what I’m here to talk about. What I’m here to talk about is that I’m tired of winter and am ready for spring to get here. I understand that the title of this piece is about summer so we’ll just say it’s about longing for warmer months and that it’s times lile these that old people moving to Florida doesn’t seem like such a cliche.

So anyway, I want it warmer, blah blah blah. I don’t like it cold, yada yada yada. That makes me no different from anybody else. That said, see you tomorrow, maybe later today if I have something else to say. Until then.

It’s friday night and screw going out. Live PD is two hours away coming from 9 police departments from around the country. What I can guarantee is that three of them will be Tulsa, Oklahoma and Berkley and Richland Counties in South Carolina. I know this because they’re on each and every week!

I got turned on to the show by a nurse while recovering from surgery, one episode and I was hooked, so if this is my drug it’s not a bad addiction.

Let’s face it, America is a fascinating place and to watch what transpires across it at night and how the police are operating in the dark is definitely worth the trouble to watch. Up until recently I didn’t realize what a phenomenon the program had become until watching people scream, “Live PD!”” When they came to break up a fight at a party. (Richland County Sheriff’s Department. See what I told you? Every week.) Then there was the guy in Berkley County screaming, “It’s lit! It’s lit!” upon learning he was on the program. That he was going to jail seemed to be less important.

Anyway I’m done for the day. Off to make a chicken sandwhich and enjoy the show. Stay safe out there. Don’t do anything stupid and remember it’s Valentine’s Day and that more men are assaulted by women on this day than any other. You know what you did.

Good night America…wherever you are. 🇺🇸

Run for your lives men! The other Halloween is here, this one a lot scarier and even more dangerous. That’s right!…Valentine’s day in upon us! Now to all of men who were whipped long ago, don’t worry your women don’t expect as much from you.

But wait.

What about the men who have been clever enough to avoid marriage thus far?

You’re the ones I’m writing to. We’re the ones in the most danger. For us a simple, “I love you,” isn’t going to cut it. Sure it doesn’t hurt but the women take that as their just due. No, on Valentine’s Day they expect more after having put up with our cheap gifts, excuses and leaving our underwear hanging ftom a lanp shade, (actually I’m with the women on that one. Pick up your filthy undies you slobs!) Come to think of it maybe married men aren’t as far of the hook as I previously said.

Quick digression, St. Valentine was a Christian martyr, whom greeting card companies adapted as a marketing campaign to put us all in danger every year. Thanks a lot Hallmark and your television network stinks too! So I’m here to tell you the solution to the Valentine’s Day conundrum.

Answer: There isn’t one.

Sorry. You want to live, suck it up for one day and do all of those things that make your innards crawl. Don’t cheapskate on the gifts and give them cuddles even if it makes your skin crawl. Happy Valentine’s Day, see you tomorrow, at least those who survive. 💖😁

You’ve heard of Fat Tiesday? I’m inventing a new holiday: Fat Sunday which will be the same day as Super Bowl Sunday. Might as well be called that because it’s the one day per year that we are all guaranteed to sit in front of our televisions and stuff ourselves until our pants are bursting. After having eaten ribs and fries I have chips and dip on the table in front of me. I’m not even fat but I’m working on it. 😁

So I say enjoy the game, watch the commercials, (Puppy, monkey, baby, that’s for one person in particular 😁) and eat until you break your toilet. There goes that New Year’s resolution to lose weight and it’s only February. See you tomorrow fatso. 😁

It’s been one of those days you can’t prepare for. It started with my foot slipping off the brake while in a drive-thru and nearly colliding with the truck in front of me. You know those days, you have to get food before starting the day and then everything slows to a crawl and breakfast feels like it is going to turn into lunch. At the head of the line was one of those people asked to pull down and their food would be brought out to them. Seriously, how piggy can you get?

After the near collision I got the hell out of there and back on the road. I wasn’t hungry enough to have an accident, hit the interstate and drove a lot of miles until my gas tank was on empty. I didn’t intend for that to happen but every offramp I came to didn’t have a gas station. I finally saw a sign but leaving the interstate I found station was nowhere in sight. I hate that and was finally forced to ask for directions and made it to the station with almost no gas to spare. Everyone feels better with a full tank as opposed to an empty one. I know, “duh,” Obvious Man. Anyway, it was one of those days when I was only one step ahead of the Angel of Disaster. Wherever he is tonight I’ve got a feeling that he’s really pissed, so I haven’t gone back out to give him another chance. See you tomorrow. Goodnight. 😴

Yesterday was my birthday! My birthday’s passed! Yesterday was my birthday! I’m feelin’ gassed. Okay not really but January 31 is not as special as January 30th.

Why?

Because it’s not my birthday.

It’s not my birthday but it doesn’t mean the celebration can’t continue. I’m not a year older so that’s cause for fireworks right there, and it’s not like anyone special is using or anything. Sure it is Norman Mailer’s birthday but that old fart has been dead for 13 years. (Fuck his books were long and all thinly veiled references to his libido, the filthy old goat.) So I’m claiming the extra day because let’s face it, my birthday is so special it can scarcely be contained within a scant 24 hours. That means if you’ve got any extra presents it’s not too late to send them to me. Boob pics frim women with especially big knockers are appreciated, perky ones are good too. Hurry up because February is almost upon us and by then it will be too late. (Not really, boob pics are good anytime of year.) Get cracking, chop chop. 😁

Today is my birthday! Happy Birthday to me! Today is my birthday! Gonna have a good time!..and you know whar? I have. Sure I’m a year older but I still look pretty good and even more importantly…wait for it…I’m not fat! That’s right I don’t look like Fats Domino or Minnesota Fats or anyone with fats in their name. 😁

That said let’s talk about my birthday, January 30th. Many famous people have been born on this day, Franklin Roosevelt, Dick Cheney, Phil Collins, Christian Bale and the greatest of them all, Gene Hackman. That’s right the man who gave us Popeye Doyal and the French Connection share the same birthday as me. More truthfully I have graciouslt allowed these other men to use my birthday because the only one who claims this day is me. Any questions? I didn’t think so. Anyway the day is almost over and another 364 days until my birthday comes around again. In the meantime, enjoy yourselves and don’t get fat, unless you already are, in which case disregard my previous advice.

A few days ago I wrote about Hannibal Lecter and how campy I find him. Today I’m going to write about one that gives me the skin crawling creep: Noah Cross from Chinatown played by the immortal John Huston.

The movie’s surface plot is about the theft of water ftom Los Angeles County being pumped into the Northwest Valley preparing it for annexation and development. (I know a long description but it is a complicated film.) But that is only part of what’s going on because this movie has one of the all-time great twist in any tale…

Noah Cross.

When you see John Huston you know that he’s the villian, you just don’t know how much because this is not your standard baddie. Cross is later revealed as the father of a child by his own daughter. When confronted he. delivers an absolutely chilling line, “I certainly don’t blame myself. You see Mr. Gittes, most men never have to face the fact that given the right circumstances they’re capable of anything.” Truly cringe worthy.

The movie finally comes to a climax in Chinatown (not only a place but a metaphor for the film) where Gittes confronts Cross but things do not go as planned (I’d say more but I don’t want to give anymore away) closing with Gittes partner saying, “Forget it Jake.. It’s Chinatown.”

I don’t have visceral reactions to movie characters very often but I did to Noan Cross and the feeling was revulsion, proving John Huston was not only a great director ( he didn’t direct this movie) but also a great supporting actor. A double threat and talent. Still didn’t like him for a while after this part though. Until next time.

One of my early blog posts was about my ongoing war with my DVR which was at the time 44% full. I’m here to today to update you on my progress. If you paid attention to the title of the piece you’d see I’m getting my ass kicked big-time.

Fighting with my DVR is starting to feel as though I’m arguing with a woman. You can’t win, the best you can do is be a contender. I know I’m my own worst enemy by continuing to record things so keep your comments to yourself, there are however a lot of good shows to watch and being in no hurry because of it only compounds the programs and problems. How was that for a long sentence? I feel like Faulkner, minus that whole cape wearing phase of his. More of a Hemingway fan really. No you don’t have to tell me I’m rambling! I’m the one typing all this so I know.

Personally I’m not willing to give up yet. It’s just one of those things you set your mind to, like cleaning out the gutters, doing your taxes or winning an argument with a woman. I think I’ll stick with the DVR, that arguing with a woman thing seems like more trouble than it’s worth. Until next time.

This isn’t going to be about Lex Luther or any other costumed villians, this is actually about a supervillian that you never thought was one…Hannibal Lector. I know, what are you talking about, he’s a serial killer? Unclench and bear with me.

First let me establish that Hannibal Lector is pretty cool name and jump started Anthony Hopkins career into the household name he is. Tradeoff he had to eat a census takers liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. (Has he ever heard of Domino’s? They even deliver) Where was I? Asteroid, dingo, sods pop…Lecter right. Anyway Lecter was just what you see in your typical Bond villian only instead of trying to conquer the world he kills people and eats them. That however is also his Achilles heel. (No I haven’t changed the topic to Greek mythology. Maybe in the future.)

Lecter like a villans of his stripe is not only highly intelligent but wants you to know it. All of those times they reveal their evil plans to the hero only to have him turn the tables you’d think they’d learn right? To make my point Lecter escapes from his cage atop of a hotel in Memphis by killing two guards stringing one up like an angel and then using the face of the other two be smuggled past the police on a stretcher (big surprise for the guys in the ambulance.)

See?

Lecter could not just escape. He had to make a statement letting the police know just how clever he had been. Once you understand that it’s easy to stop him. Close down the hotel and no one gets in or out until he’s found, back in his cage and problem solved. Now if people would just listen to me on everything else we’d have a better world. I’ll work on it. Until next time.