Category: documentaries

Precious Time

Happy Juneteenth! And to all the whining racists out there, shut the fuck up and have all the seats. Are you working today or getting paid to stay home? If the latter, you really need to fuck all the way off into the sun.

Sparky let me sleep in this morning, which was very nice. I did some chores last night (we also watched a few episodes of America’s Sweethearts, but not really feeling the show this time around), so the kitchen doesn’t need as much work as it usually does over the weekend, which is nice. I also have some more chores to do this morning–I need to finish laundering clothes and do the bed linens, an unload/reload the dishwasher, and the floors. I also need to tackle my workspace, too–it’s been out of control for far too long at this point, seriously.

Yesterday was a rather dreary and damp day. Arthur’s conditions (he passed north of New Orleans) dumped a shit ton of rain on us all day yesterday, which I usually like, but I wasn’t at home under my blankets so it wasn’t as enjoyable as it usually is for me. We also had three (!!) tornados touch down in the metro area–none near me, thank the heavens–but one started in Avondale, another started in Harahan and tore its way through the cemeteries on its way to the lake front, and one on the west bank that started near Houma and spun its way up the bayou. As far as I know, there were no fatalities but a lot of damage. It’s sunny this morning–we were supposed to have more rain today–and I think I’ll have some things delivered so I don’t have to leave the house today. It’s weird not having to do work-at-home duties on a Friday, but it’s also kind of nice.

Can you believe he agreed to this shitty deal with Iran and signed it at Versailles? What other treaties have been signed there? Well played, France, as well as the gift of a bike to him. Chef’s kiss no notes on the trolling that he is too stupid to understand. Yup, that’s their golden calf–the one they sold their souls, intelligence, patriotism, and consciences to…and they went incredibly cheap. We can’t have universal health care, we can’t have free education, we can’t give kids free lunch at school, we can’t have so many things….but we can afford $300 billion more to give to Iran as “sorry we blew up your country, please let the oil flow.” Sounds like the desert country with the precious spice actually did hold all the cards. Are people still worshiping at this shrine? The right has been itching to go to war with Iran since the hostage crisis; they finally get a guy who’ll give it to him and he fucks it all up. But hey, you got rid of Roe v. Wade at least…it’s almost like God is punishing the United States for doing that. (Hey if they can blame hurricanes on queer people, I can blame whatever the fuck I want on them and will.)

Anyway, I know I am tired of all this winning, aren’t you?

Sigh.

I’m going to play today by ear, but the primary goal is cleaning up, resting, and reading for the holiday. I may do some writing, but maybe not. I feel pretty good and rested this morning, too, which is nice. There’s also a new Harlan Coben show on Netflix to watch; we always enjoy his shows, and plus, it’s not every day you get to watch a television series produced and written by someone you know. Come to think of it, I know any number of people who’ve had movies and television shows made out of their books, which is pretty fucking cool. My life is far more fabulous than it has any right being, you know?

And on THAT cheery note, I am heading into the spice mines. I’m getting some more coffee to watch the news with, maybe read for a bit, and then get cleaned up before I order groceries for delivery. I hope you have a marvelous holiday doing whatever you like, as I will, and I will of course return tomorrow morning.

Those thighs! Dat ass! Either a soccer or rugby player, for sure. Based on the arms, I’m going with rugby.

Hard to Believe

Thursday? And tomorrow’s a holiday? Praise be for a three day weekend! I only am working three days next week, too, as I am meeting Dad in Alabama. And the week after is yet another holiday weekend.

I woke up to thunder around five this morning; we were also having a massive downpour. A tornado alert came to my phone about twenty minutes after the alert that we were in a warning, but I have no idea what part of the city said tornado was striking. YIKES. I always love that the alerts tell us to take shelter in an interior room or basement; New Orleans doesn’t have basements (the house are raised off the ground in most neighborhoods) and we don’t have interior rooms that would trap the heat in summer. I haven’t gotten any notification that the tornado has ended or moved on, either. Having lived five years in Kansas, I have plenty of experience with tornadoes–which makes it more alarming. At least I am medicated this time around. Ah, a quick view of the news has informed me the threat is over, and so are the tornado watches. We’re still in a flash flood alert, though, until around nine this morning. Work wasn’t cancelled, so we must have power in the building…I also don’t have to be there as early as I usually do, either. We’re slow in the clinic today–if anyone shows up at all–and checking Entergy, we do have power so all is well on that front, too, so I need to get it together and get a move on. I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home last night, but what I didn’t want to happen did; when I got home Paul was already on the couch watching television, I sat down for a few minutes to decompress after feeding Sparky and the next thing I knew, it was time for bed. We watched the finale of Widow’s Bay, which I may rewatch to get a better handle on, moved on to Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, and finished the night off with an episode of America’s Sweethearts.

It’s okay, though. I realized last night that I would probably blow the chores off again tonight and would have to catch up on everything Friday morning, like I usually do. But…no work-at-home this week because of the holiday. Maybe I can get back on the writing horse tonight, too. I am not stopping to make groceries, either, on my way home tonight. We have plenty of foodstuffs with which to make meals, and yes, his Majesty is nearly out of treats, which would be a high crime and misdemeanor in the Lost Apartment. Sigh. Maybe I should stop on the way home. Such a spoiled little baby he is!

Paul’s doing much better; it seems like every day he is getting around better and he isn’t getting antsy about leaving the house, either. I suspect he won’t be terribly thrilled when he has to start going back to the office, I know I wasn’t! But my coffee is starting to kick in and I am feeling more awake and alert with every passing minute. Huzzah! I do have things I need to get caught up on at the office, but I also get to leave early, which is awesome….so yeah, if the weather isn’t too inclement, I should make some groceries–even though we don’t really need much of anything. Hmmm. Play it by ear and see how the weather is going; if the CBD is flooding I’m not going to go that way! The last thing I need is having a flood total my car.

Sorry my life hasn’t been more interesting, Constant Reader. I really don’t want to talk about the current events going on in the world right now; every day the news is even more absurd and insane than the day before. Are we great again yet? I know I am tired of all of this kind of winning, if that’s what you can call it.

But the one bright spot of the week has been the videos posted of foreigners coming to the US for the first time and having the best time. It’s kind of funny that we go visit historic sites or natural wonders when we go to their countries; when they come here, oddly enough, they want to try fast food and go see Walmart and Costco and Buc-ee’s, and loving every minute of it1. Apparently Europeans didn’t think we actually had yellow school buses, and are tripping their minds when they see one? I also saw a video of a European watching an intense thunderstorm in Arkansas and being blown away because they don’t have them over there. Seeing their wonder and love for everything they are doing–and the way Americans have embraced them–they are also surprised by how friendly and nice everyone is (one video was just a collection of scenes of this guy shocked that people will hold the door open for the people behind them, which is something we don’t think about and is absolutely automatic. I love that Boston and Scotland have fallen in love with each other. I’m also amazed at how many are having issues with the heat here–and it’s still spring. I kind of wish they’d used the Superdome for one of the games, so we could enjoy some foreign visitors, too. It also serves as a reminder that we do have a pretty cool country, for the most part–just because one-third of the population is bottom-feeding garbage doesn’t mean we all are, and that our country is worth fighting the fascists for. We’ve never lived up to our ideals as a nation, but we can get there someday.

Who knew the World Cup would turn out to be such a bright spot for us? We definitely needed this boost, for sure.

And someday we can make the ideal of true freedom and equality a reality for everyone.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Holiday Eve, everyone, and I will be back tomorrow morning.

The pier in Panama City Beach
  1. I also love how they all fall in love with ranch dip! ↩︎

It’s a Tuff Life

And somehow, it is already Pay-the-Bills Wednesday again somehow, which is wild to me, you know? Yesterday was okay. I had slept weirdly Monday night; I kept waking up. The first time was at 12:30, and then it was every hour or so until the alarm went off. Sparky has now taken to getting into the bed before the alarm and cuddling with me until it starts beeping; then he feels he can whine at me, smack my face with his paw, rub his cheeks all over my face while purring. It’s kind of nice, actually. We had off and on rain from this as yet unnamed (it will be Arthur, if it gets more organized) tropical system off the coast of Texas. This storm is predicted (at least as of now) to came ashore along the state line with Texas and then blow northeast across Louisiana. It’s not going to pass directly over New Orleans, but we’ll be on the east side of it, which means a lot of rain…they’re thinking between ten and fifteen inches between now and Friday…which could be a problem. Our street has only flooded once, and even then, my car was fine because I was parked across the street, which is higher than our side. Sigh.

I was also a bit on the groggy side yesterday, and I originally thought it was because of the sleep interruptions, but when I got home from work I had a massive sinus attack. Of course my sinuses were going to react to the pressure change from a tropical system. Ah, well. I was a bit tired when I got home, so just relaxed a bit and hung out with Paul and Sparky in the living room. (We also finished watching Bring Me the Beauties, which is completely insane.) I didn’t do anything once I got home from work because I was a little drained from the day. I’d started off feeling a bit off, but really hit the wall in the afternoon. We were busy in the clinic (not so much today, so I can get caught up on things), so that kept me on my toes, and I literally collapsed into my easy chair once I’d gotten home and changed into my sweats.

The air is very heavy and damp this morning, which really makes me want to go back to bed and get under my blankets. Here’s hoping this doesn’t lure me into sleepiness! But seriously, is there anything better than being under blankets and warm when it’s damp and cold?

I didn’t do any writing or reading yesterday, either, which is understandable, given the weird head-space I was in yesterday. I am hoping my mind’s creativity isn’t groggy today, and really, that’s what was groggy yesterday and is a bit this morning, too–apparently my intelligence is groggy this morning too. This is what I mean by malaise. Sometimes after doing some writing I need to let my brain and creativity recharge and power up again. I do have things to do when I get home, and I have to run an errand on my way home as well. The kitchen is almost out of control again, so I need to do the dishes and empty the dishwasher and reload it and there are several loads of laundry that need doing. If I can stay focused when I get home, I can get that stuff done before we settle in for the night. We also started watching the new season of America’s Sweethearts, which is always interesting to me. We’re OG’s with this show–I remember when it was on TNN as Making the Squad. It’s the same show, but they clearly have a much higher budget and Netflix exposed it to the world…meaning the individual girls now have lots of fans and demands on them, as opposed to them as a team. An interesting turn of events! Can Kelli and Judy keep that team spirit alive in the girls in the face of all this attention? Stay tuned!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Wednesday everyone! I’ll be back here tomorrow!

Out a Touch

Tuesday morning, after a busy and overcast Monday. I had to do my bimonthly injection yesterday morning, which went without a hitch, and this time I wouldn’t have even remembered it was coming up if I hadn’t seen my specialist last week. (This is good news, because this was the first time since starting doing this last August that I couldn’t tell about two weeks ahead of time that it was coming due. Huzzah!) It’s nice to know that I can manage the chronic illness I have to live with until I die. I slept decently; very relaxing and restful, but I kept waking up every now and then. I also wasn’t terribly hungry yesterday after the injection, either, but don’t know if those two things are related. We were busy yesterday in the clinic, too, and will be again today before two light days and a slide into a long weekend, which will be lovely.

I forgot to mention that we also watched that documentary, Maternal Instinct, over the weekend and can I just say, what a horrible bunch of people on every level! Everyone involved was essentially a piece of shit. (All I could think about while watching was how conservatives always paint small town/farm country life as “real America“–as opposed to, you know, the urban dwellers who actually drive the engine of the economy? Remember Joe Sixpack and Joe the Plumber and other “real Americans” Sarah Palin and her ilk pushed on us relentlessly? Fuck off now and forever. You just know who everyone in that documentary voted for–you can smell it through the television.) The young woman was a narcissistic psychopath with an unhinged grip on reality. Everyone who enabled her cons–the greedy boyfriend who saw dollar signs, his friends, his mother–are all at least partly responsible for the murder of that poor young woman and her baby. They went along with everything, even past when they knew better, because they thought there would eventually be a pay off, even as that possibility became more and more remote. Horrible, really. (Small towns and rural areas are a lot more like Peyton Place than anyone ever wants to admit. Grace Metalious was right, and she’s still right.)

I was also enormously disappointed to see the San Francisco Giants, of all the MLB teams, welcomed homophobia into the dugout for Pride Night. Speaking of right-wing bullshit, am I right? Oooh, those poor big men who get paid a shit ton of money to play a children’s game had their little delicate masculine he-man fee-fees hurt, and anyone who believes that had anything to do with Christianity is literally too stupid to engage with. It’s pretty sad that we look up to athletes as role models in the first place when so many of them clearly aren’t (Carter Hart, anyone?), but it’s hilarious to me how many men’s masculinity is so fragile and weak that it turns toxic, like those four needle-dicks who’ve never brought a woman to orgasm and never will and moreover, wouldn’t care. We learned a lot about the Giants organization and their players on Pride Night, and as far as I am concerned I hope they never win a pennant ever again. The team condoned it, so everyone from the owners to the batboys are complicit in homophobia. Nice look for a team that represents SAN FUCKING FRANCISCO.1

Remind me why Pride isn’t necessary anymore?

I was also highly amused to see that Hollywood is doing what it always does: missing the point while trying to squeeze every last penny possible out of a trend. The enormous success of Heated Rivalry was a huge surprise to them all–and it wouldn’t have been what it was had an American network been involved…they’re so afraid of gay sexuality and sensuality they would have turned Shane into a side piece and Ilya would end up with a woman…and his relationship with women would gotten a lot more air time. So what lesson did Hollywood learn from the gay hockey show? People want more hockey romance! Hockey is the key! So, instead of more gay romances, we’re getting a shit ton of straight ones about hockey. And if the new straight hockey romances (which won’t have any of the sexual assaults and misogyny straight hockey players are known for–I’ve not forgotten the US Olympic Men’s Team’s shenanigans, have you?) fail? They’ll consider Heated Rivalry an outlier.

Juneteenth is this weekend, and it’s more than just another federal holiday. I guarantee every white racist bitching and whining about it plans to not take the day off with pay and is going to work all day, right? If you take the day off with pay you’ve surrendered your right to complain about it. See how that works? You’re free to not participate. Do some heavy labor, that’ll teach the wokesters!

Honestly, the decline and fall of the American empire is so deserved.

I did do some writing yesterday, so hurray for that, and I hope to get some done this evening as well. I need to do some chores, though, before I can chill out for the evening.

And on that note, tis off to the spice mines for me. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and here’s hoping it includes tacos! See you tomorrow!

  1. The funniest thing to me is straight white male homophobes, always so scared a gay man might actually, hit on them or something, are inevitably the ugliest unfuckable things you’ll ever see–and you know they don’t wash their ass. Dream on, bitches. ↩︎

You Better Run

Friday morning and I am up early yet again to head into the office for a meeting, after which I can come home before I head to have labs done at two different places (one is an actual blood draw–Labcorp–and the other is to drop off a sample at Quest…and they are both in the same building, thank you Baby Jesus) before coming home and settling in for a day of work-at-home duties as well as cleaning chores. I was a little spacy yesterday morning as it got later, but it was more about being hungry (I’m still getting used to how it feels to be hungry, as it’s not something I’ve experienced much, but that’s a tale for another time.)

I did write and send out a newsletter yesterday, about queer bookstores and how much I miss them, which you read by clicking here. I’ve also finished my entry on A Violent Masterpiece, which I set to go out on July 1, after Pride month has ended–because all I’m doing in the newsletter this month is being gay gay gay. What can I say? Isn’t it a requirement that I shove my sexuality down the throats of the poor, sad, pathetic homophobes or thirty days? I mean, it is one of my favorite times of the year, precisely for that reason. It’s so tiring though, watching the trash be homophobic with their tired whines and complaints; can’t you lazy fucks come up with something new? Christ on the cross, already. Get better writers.

I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home yesterday–I ran an errand on the way home, too–and did a few chores once I got home, but once I was ensconced into my easy chair, I felt a bit worn out. I didn’t have any issues getting up this morning, and I feel rested and good; who could ask for anything more? The day will get a little hectic once I leave here and start running around town, but soon enough I’ll be home and doing my quality assurance work, which I am very behind on. I dug out my to-do notebook this morning, and there was quite a bit for me to cross off, which was lovely. I think the used up pages are due to be removed, though. I am going to try to be better this weekend about being productive and getting things done. I am itching to write some fiction–I’ve got to stop letting the pressure of the newsletter to get under my skin in my subconscious; the only person who’s disappointed when I don’t finish one and send it out is me, so…

We started watching a documentary series, Bring Me the Beauties, which is a bizarre story about a man who believed he was an alien, started a cult, and was connected to male modeling, especially a model whose professional name was Hoyt Richards. This is new to me; I’d not heard that story before, so it was interesting, and then we started watching a new show on Apple, Cape Fear, obviously based on the previous films and the book (The Executioners by John D. MacDonald), and it has both an excellent cast and is very well produced. I don’t know why we need a series to tell the story again, but streamers hedge their bets with using already existing IPs, don’t they? It’s really good, and I am looking forward to watching more–as well as getting through The Boroughs and other things we are currently watching. We also need to finish The Comeback, and some other things we’ve started. I’ll probably put on another season of The Traitors in the background while I work and clean today.

I actually am feeling good this morning, now that the coffee is kicking in. There’s something to getting up earlier, isn’t there? Well, let’s hope this holds through the entire weekend!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back with you tomorrow morning!

The temple of Ramesses II at Abu Simbel, at night. Gorgeous.

Passionate Kisses

Friday morning in the Lost Apartment after a very good night’s sleep,, and Sparky let me sleep another hour, which was delightful and felt fabulous. My dinner date is tonight–not last, as I had thought–so I have that to look forward to after a day of driving Paul from appointment to appointment and running some errands for him out in Metairie. (My reward is we’re stopping at Costco on the way back into New Orleans…I make it sound like we were are crossing the ocean deep, don’t I, rather than the fifteen or so minutes it takes for me to get there….it’s a New Orleans thing.) Tomorrow I need to go vote, and find out where the recall petition signing is for low-life scavenging scum skank Liz Murrill. (I have already signed the recall for the governor’s stupid ass.) I also need to drop books at the library sale, too, and swing by Fresh Market, so might as well do all of that tomorrow. I also am voting in the state election tomorrow, and planning to vote no on everything that is Janky Jeff’s agenda. I am actually feeling inspired by how many people are rallying here against the bastards in Baton Rouge. Maybe with some massive voter turnout for a change down here we can make the state better.

It wouldn’t take much.

The other day, when I was talking about New Orleans sinking, I did what so many people do–focused on what is going to happen to New Orleans only–when the entire state is sinking. The coastline keeps rapidly moving further and further inland, the barrier islands are mostly gone, and it affects the entire state. The loss of New Orleans tax revenue will certainly bankrupt Louisiana, but what will be left of the rest of the state as the Gulf continues to eat away at the coast and move north. This is a state crisis, not just a city one, but no one in Baton Rouge or Washington seems to give two shits. It really is astonishing how quickly this entire country has gone downhill, and everything eroded so rapidly. Again, I am glad I am closer to the end of my life than to the beginning, because there’s no telling what the fuck is going to happen in the next four years.

I was tired last night after work, and when I got home, I just sat in my chair and got caught up on the news before watching another episode of The Traitors Canada–which I am enjoying–and after Paul got home we watched the latest episode of The Boys, and I would imagine if they hadn’t already lost all their MAGA viewers, this week’s would do the trick. I am not really sure how an action adventure super-hero show that satirizes and critiques the current state of the country so blisteringly is airing on Amazon, the same production company that gave us the biggest bomb in documentary history, Melania. Obviously, no one has told Bezos or his lizard-wife about it.

I am hoping to have a good weekend. I am taking Jordan Harper’s A Violent Masterpiece with me this morning to read while Paul is being seen at his various appointments, and I am going to try to finish reading it this weekend. My next newsletter is scheduled to go out tomorrow morning, and so I also need to work on the next one, too. Then there’s all the cleaning and organizing I need to get done, too. Heavy heaving sigh. Just looking around this morning from my desk, the Lost Apartment looks like the wreck of the Hesperus. I do hate when I let things slide like this during the week, and I really need to just do the chores when I get home from work before relaxing a bit–I end up stuck in the chair with Sparky in my lap and nothing gets done. And I do need to be a lot more productive in the evenings, and resist the need to relax for a bit.

And on that note, this place ain’t gonna clean itself, is it? So I’d best head into the spice mines, and get this weekend started. I shall be back tomorrow morning, Constant Reader–see you then!

Very few pro wrestlers were built like this when I was growing up, or I would have watched a LOT more.

Take Me Home, Country Roads

Sparky let me sleep a little later than usual–not for lack of trying, though–but it also rained overnight, which helped me sleep more deeply than I had during the trip. It’s still raining this morning, dark and a little bit gloomy. I’d planned to run some errands today, but maybe I won’t after all. It seems and feels like a stay-inside-and-be-cozy day; once I finish some things this morning I’ll probably head to the easy chair to do some reading. The key is to not turn on the television; that never ends well. Last night we watched an episode of both Hacks and Euphoria, but we are still behind on both–and some other shows we are watching as each episode drops, too. I want to get some reading and writing and cleaning done today around the house; I have to empty the dishwasher, etc. Paul’s planning on going to the gym when he wakes up and bringing lunch home from the Please U cafe on St. Charles–they have marvelous fried shrimp po’boys and onion rings–so it should be a relatively low-key day around the Lost Apartment.

I went into the office yesterday for a half-day, which was nice. I was behind on things from being gone, and was thus able to get caught up by going in. So long as I don’t have to be there before eight, you know? It was very low-key, too–no one expects to see me in the office on Fridays–and was able to take my time and leisurely get things done. I still have things to do there, but it’s now a very much shorter–and easier–day ahead of me on Monday.

We finished watching The Beast in Me the day I got home from the drive, and I highly recommend it. Both Claire Danes and Matthew Rhys are fantastic, as is Brittany Snow; it’s a definite twisty edge of your seat thriller, with fleshed out, rounded out characters who may not be the best people in the first place, and the dynamic of the nonfiction writer living next door to the wealthy real estate mogul from New York who may have murdered his first wife is kind of chilling–it was an interesting twist of the Bobby Durst/Susan Berman situation there (immortalized in the documentary series The Jinx)–which I spotted almost immediately. Berman wasn’t writing about Durst1 (that we know about, anyway), and operated as more of a friend/PR person for him after his first wife vanished2, but the foundation of this story is very similar to that dynamic.

I also watched the final, concluding episode of the reunion for The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, which, like the first two parts, was a snoozefest. I skipped out on most of the season–Garcelle was one of the only reasons I was still watching–and came back in for the last three episodes before the reunion, and couldn’t make myself care about any of them, frankly. The show has always been this weird mix of darkness and manufactured goofiness (the segments on Kyle’s family were always so hyper-produced, to the point I called these segments “Kyle and Her Wacky Family”–supposedly making them relatable, but actually making The Brady Bunch look realistic, groundbreaking, and Peabody worthy) that has always been a bit hard to take. I’ve never cared for Kyle–a recapper I used to love before she stopped doing them always called her Vyle, which is very appropriate–in the first place, and her alliance of bitches known as the Fox Force Five that she activated to get rid of Lisa Vanderpump was incredibly tedious. They’ve also made some horrendous mistakes in casting over the years, too. I don’t know, I think I may be tiring at long last of the Real Housewives franchises, with Salt Lake City the only one I actually look forward to watching.

Maybe it’s because I love The Traitors so much? Very possible.

I also got the marvelous news that the audiobook of A Streetcar Named Murder is on sale for a mere ten dollars, and you can get the deal by clicking right here! Snap it up, everyone! Please?

The Anthony Award nominations were released yesterday, and as always, I have a load of friends nominated in every category! Best of luck, and congratulations to everyone, seriously. I am glad I am not going so I don’t have to choose which friend to vote for, hallelujah. I am very pleased to announce that Crime Ink–Iconic is nominated for Best Anthology, and two of the stories were nominated for best short story! I wrote about my impressions about both stories on my newsletter (if you are interested in my thoughts, they can be found by clicking on this link here for Cheryl Head’s “Finding Jimmy Baldwin” or here for Christa Faust’s “Hollywood Prometheus“), and also have to add that Cheryl has another story nominated as well–well done, Cheryl! It’s also truly an honor to be in the same table of contents with both women, honestly.

And stupid, stupid me–I discovered something that will be enormously helpful going forward with my newsletter–scheduling them in advance. That means I can write, for example, Pride entries for June whenever I am inspired to write about being a queer American, and then set them to post and be sent out to my subscribers in June. Du-uh. Likewise, I can also save my horror entries for October. I am very oblivious, and very aware of the fact; it really sometimes feels like those old commercials, “Oh, I could have had a V8!” I start them all the time and publish them as soon as they are finished, so frequently I won’t finish one because I don’t want to publish it yet….which means there are tons started and unfinished (92 was this morning’s total of “unpublished” entries), which is daunting and overwhelming sometimes, particularly because there are so many and I have so many other ideas for entries, too. Sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I am getting another cup of coffee, probably going to heat up a breakast sandwich, and head into the living room with the iPad to continue reading this marvelous Carol Goodman novel, and just see how the day goes. Hope you have a lovely Saturday, and I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning! Till then!

Live oak in Audubon Park with lots of Spanish moss
  1. Interesting twist: I am one degree or so of separation from the Durst case; my mentor was a friend of Berman’s and she was terrified of Durst. Can’t say that I blame her, but I knew the case long before it got into the popular imagination. ↩︎
  2. Interesting side note: Judge Box o’Wine Jeannine Perro was the district attorney who couldn’t even file charges on Durst. Given that she now can’t even get a grand jury to indict anyone, you have to wonder if there was serious collusion and corruption involved there, since we now know she’ll try to indict someone for assault with a Subway sandwich. It’s not like she’s either a good attorney or a good person, and she’s clearly corrupt. ↩︎

The Happiest Girl in the Whole USA

First day of vacation, and Sparky let me sleep late. He even slept in the bed with me, which he never does. And wow, did I sleep well. The weather turned yesterday; it started raining in the morning and continued to do so, off and on, all day. It was still sprinkling when I got home from the office, and we had torrential rains and thunderstorms last night. I was a bit tired when I got home last night–I spent the day at the office making sure I didn’t leave any loose ends that might need my input dangling before my vacation. I watched the latest episode of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, reunion part two, and I really was…well, mostly bored. As I watched, I kept thinking I don’t like any of these women other than Rachel and Jennifer, and the rest can be gladly retired. I also don’t care about any of their conflicts, so why was I watching? I’d skipped most of the season, only checking in as the season was drawing to a close, and honestly, I don’t feel like I missed anything. I don’t really watch any of the Housewives regularly anymore (outside of Salt Lake City), and I used to watch all of them. I also have to admit that if not for SLC, I probably wouldn’t watch any of them anymore.

Today’s forecast is for rain all day, and I am a bit nervous to check the weather along my route; but I’ll be listening to my book and snug inside the car. I just have to watch out for other drivers…and of course, I’ll be driving through the countryside of Alabama in the dark yet again. It really is creepy. I have to pick up around here and pack, get cleaned up, load the car and take Sparky to the Cat Practice. I am also going to swing uptown and pick up a prescription and the mail on the way out of town. Jazz Fest was canceled yesterday; that’s how bad the weather was here. I got stuck in Jazz Fest traffic on the way home and was more than a bit annoyed; it took over a half an hour for me to get home from work, and yes, I was worn out by the time I got home. Sparky was also very loving and needy when I got home, so hence it was to my easy chair with me to get caught up on the news (bleargh). I did watch some more history and lore and legends of Alabama and Kansas, and started thinking about writing history once again. I’ve actually created this entire universe of my fictional county in Alabama (based primarily on the county we’re from) that goes back to the early statehood days–I love the idea of my cursed county, whose history was written in blood–and maybe someday I’ll start working on that some more. There are any number of short stories, novellas, and book ideas set there that I’ve either made notes on, or started writing; I’ve also never told the story of how Blackwood Hall (from Bury Me in Shadows) burned during the war. There are legends that were talked about in that book, but nobody really knew for sure what happened to the house and the family that remained there while the menfolk were off at war.

And of course, going to Alabama today probably has a lot to do with why I’ve been thinking about it so much lately. You think?

I have to admit I was highly amused by the Royal visit to Washington this week. At first, I was annoyed that Charles and Camilla were coming, and thus legitimizing this corrupt regime. I’ve never been a fan of either (I loved Diana, and will shred and block for Diana slander), and hated how they seemed to win out in the end. I also figured if any British royals had to do it, it might as well be them. But…I have to say I was highly amused. The gift of a bellend with his name on it was simply too delicious to be borne, and the fact he was excited like a toddler on Christmas morning to get it made it even more hilarious. Too stupid to know when you’re being mocked is certainly a look–and the fact that the Brits knew he’d be thrilled about being mocked to his face? Chef’s kiss.

How sad is it that a foreign royal had to give a pro-America pro-democracy speech to our Congress to remind them of their jobs, their sacred duty, and what their role is to standing ovations, which from the Reich Right was either proof they didn’t know what he was talking about, or it was just politeness from the “fuck your feelings” crowd; who knows? But they certainly have jumped on board with gerrymandering once our illegal and illegitimate Supreme Court okayed it. They are all such despicably corrupt monsters–Alito, Roberts, Barrett, Gorsuch, and the other two scumbags–but the Right has been pushing fascism since the Reagan years, if not longer, and you can miss me with your praise for that prick, too.

I’m still angry about the VRA, and white people continue to be the absolute worst. I saw a Iowa farmer (also a Trump voter would be my guess, because he never mentioned once who he voted for–because anyone who didn’t vote for this is very upfront about it because they are angry) whining about his farming subsidies being cut–guess he’s not too happy about the austerity and billionaire tax cuts he voted for. But isn’t time he stopped being a welfare queen suckling at the teats of the US taxpayers? Are you really so mediocre at your job you need to be subsidized? Why are my tax dollars going to support his lazy ass? Pull yourself up by the bootstraps! After all, you’re white and everything breaks your way and this country–yet you still need welfare. I sure hope you’re not wasting taxpayer money on luxuries like soda or candy, bitch–those are my tax dollars you’re draining from the Treasury, and I think you should only be allowed to eat what people on SNAP are allowed–and maybe a periodic drug-and-alcohol test. I mean, isn’t that what people like him think about handouts to other people?

The United States, where mediocre white people take handouts from the taxpayers while complaining about other people getting it being lazy freeloaders. Fuck you all the way to hell, rural Trump voters. How’s that price of gas looking for all that driving y’all have to do? Me, I live in one of those “horrible Democratic run blue cities”–and only need to buy a tank of gas per month because if I leave town I don’t even drive three hundred miles PER MONTH. Why aren’t you screaming LET’S GO TYRANT?

I watched this filth tear down Joe Biden for four years. Are y’all better off than you were two years ago? I thought this was all about economic anxiety, not racism? Remember those bald-faced lies? Christ on the cross. I am so fucking glad I’m old and don’t have children.

Sigh.

But this trip will be a nice break from reality. I won’t be seeing much news while I am gone, and won’t be posting here probably again until I get back on Wednesday. It’ll be nice spending time with Dad and my aunt, and there’s just something about the county–and being in Alabama–that feels comforting.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely weekend and first half of the week; I doubt I’ll be here again before I get home next week, so until then–hang in there, because always remember, this too will pass.

Sexy Richard DuBois poses for a physique magazine cover in the 1950s…but we know who the real target audience actually was.

Galveston

Thursday and last day of work before my trip. I didn’t sleep that great last night–lots of tossing and turning and waking up, and for some ungodly reason Sparky decided I should get up at four–and then hassled and harassed me until I finally got up before six. I don’t feel tired–that may change, of course– and actually kind of good this morning. I didn’t have anything to bring for lunch, so I guess I will be ordering for delivery again. It’ll be a nice treat for myself, and of course tonight I’ll have to spoil Sparky before I take him to board at the Cat Practice. I hate boarding him; I always worry he thinks he’s being abandoned again. Hang in there, little guy! We’ll pick you up Wednesday afternoon.

Well, this Supreme Court continues to prove themselves disgusting pigs and traitors who make Roger P. Taney look like a fucking amateur. All I will say is: you know who you are, you know what you did MORE THAN ONCE, and I will forgive MAGA before I forgive you. I hope you’re proud of yourselves. Hope your moral superiority is worth it.

You have no idea, Constant Reader, how glad I am that I am old.

I was kind of tired when I got home from work yesterday, but I forced myself to do some chores around trying to get my Youtube algorithm un-fucked-up with; yet another reason algorithms should be done away with because they are of Satan. As I have mentioned, I’ve been watching the insane bread-and-circus of this idiotic political movement eating itself alive. I’ve started calling this whole mess The Real Housewives of MAGA. Kristi and Pam have been fired from the cast, but not soon enough; may the rest of their lives be as ignominious and hateful as they deserve. Yet Laura Loomer, Candace, and Erika rage on. I despise all three of them, but watching them meltdown and come for each other can be highly entertaining. I generally watch updates on RHOMAGA from more leftist influencers, but sometimes I won’t be paying full attention, and before I can stop it Youtube autoplays the next video…and sometimes it’s an actual video from one of these three little pigs. This fucks up my algorithms, and as a result Youtube was offering me right-wing content more so than ever before. It could also be that someone there rejiggered said algorithms to push right-wing content. It’s so much fun living in a world where you cannot discern fact from fiction on the news. Sigh. Again, I am very glad I am old.

I’m proud of myself for getting the dishes done and the dishwasher run last night around watching documentaries on Youtube. I saw an absolutely fascinating one on the White Hurricane on the great lakes, which sounded like it was horrible. The video primarily focused on the lakes and the conditions; many ships were out there before they knew how big the storm was getting or how fast it was going. I am assuming that Michigan and other surrounding areas also got hit pretty hard. I’m planning on looking up more information on it. More than 250 people were killed on the lakes by the storm, and yes, apparently the surrounding areas were battered, too. Imagine a massive blizzard with hurricane force winds. Sounds pretty fucking terrifying to me, frankly.

I need to make a packing list for the trip tomorrow; I let Paul take the good suitcase so I am going to have to find something to take with me. I’d rather not take the big suitcase, but I may just go ahead and do so there will be room for everything instead of shoving things into overstuffed gym bags. I also have to run an errand on the way home tonight; I should go uptown and get the mail. I’ve been avoiding doing this after work because driving uptown on Claiborne is such a damned nightmare; but I have a prescription I need to get and so I may as well stop by the mail too; I also need to pick up my copy of Jordan Harper’s new book. I’ve got Alafair’s latest queued up on Audible to listen to in the car on the way up tomorrow. But it’s also supposed to rain this afternoon, and bearing that in mind, I may wait to go uptown until tomorrow and after I drop Sparky off. That actually makes the most sense; load up the car, take Sparky to the vet, and go uptown and then head down Claiborne to I-10.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow before I head out. Till then!

I highly recommend the Bloody Mary’s at Commanders Palace.

Talking in Your Sleep

I am hoping that this morning won’t be like yesterday. It was quite odd. I felt nauseous and warm when I got up after a fitful night’s sleep in which I could never seem to get quite comfortable. I kept feeling warmer and warmer until I was sweating and overheated and quite sick. I laid down for a while, watching more videos about 1970s horror movies (television and film) which was quite fun. I feel better this morning than I did yesterday; I suspect my sinuses had a lot to do with yesterday’s bout of yuck. I need to stop and get Claritin-D on my way home from work tonight…to an empty house, as Paul is departing this morning for his trip up north. So, yes, I am very well aware Sparky is going to be very needy tonight and the rest of the week until I take him to the vet’s Friday on MY way out of town. Sigh. But I did sleep well last night and I feel pretty good so far this morning. I think I’ll be fine.

I tend to get paranoid about my health now whenever I am not feeling 100% after last year–and at this time one year ago I was horribly sick. I missed Paul’s birthday last year because I was sick, and of course, it’s today and he’s leaving. We seem to never have much luck these last few years for his birthday. I think we’ll celebrate after we both get home next week.

Because I wasn’t feeling well yesterday, I didn’t accomplish a whole lot other than watching the television with Sparky purring in a cuddle puddle in my lap. I did read another chapter of The Egyptian Cat Mystery and Listen for the Whisperer, and I scribbled a lot into my journal. I’ve done a lot of scribbling in my journal lately; I realized as I finished my red journal last night that I had only started the red journal after the first of the year….and wasn’t even halfway finished with it a mere month ago–so that’s a lot of scribbling these past few weeks. What I’ve been doing lately is trying to write after work on weekdays, and letting my mind and body have the weekend off….so I just give my creative ADHD free rein on the weekends and scribble in the journal. And the way my brain has been going these past few weekends has been pretty amazing. So many notes, so many solutions, and so much rewriting and writing to be done. But…nothing will ever get done unless you start, right?

One by one, step by step, and you will gradually get there. Patience is always the key and the one thing I always seem to have in short supply.

And while I did spend almost the entire day in my chair under a blanket with a remote in my hand, I did scribble. I also watched some fun Youtube videos; I also watched some on Louisiana, Kansas and Alabama lores and legends, some news (Lord), and I also watched (rewatched? I don’t remember) All Make: The International Male Catalogue, which was interesting. It also ties into my study of masculinity and gender, because it was influential in changing the ways men dress. I used to get it, of course, but I don’t remember if it was the 1980s or the 1990s when I did. I bought a swimsuit and a pirate blouse from them once; the swimsuit was iffy quality (I also realized that the swimsuits and underwear didn’t make the models look the way they did, but rather showed off their impressive bodies; they were selling the illusion that clothes made the man rather than the reverse) but the pirate blouse was for a Halloween costume, and it lasted forever until I have it away to someone else to use as a costume.

One thing you get used to living in New Orleans is the recyclability of costumes.

I was very disappointed to hear that Don Lemon interviewed Keith Edwards1 on his show last night, and it needs to be said and addressed and no longer swept under the rug: we have a severe racism problem in the queer community. Edwards will never beat the racism allegations; I’ve seen and heard what he has to say to Black women, and his condescending superiority for such mediocrity on full display. Why was he so vested in the Texas primary? He doesn’t live there and never will. Why were so many white gays determined to bash and demean and undermine Jasmine Crockett? Bowen Yang and his trashbag friend Matt Rogers already showed how much work gay men have to do to get their heads right, but not having full white male privilege, they do like to hold on to what their skin and their genitals provides free of charge to them in this country. There have been times when Lemon has mis-stepped before; what “journalistic” need did platforming Edwards fill? Nothing, just two privileged gay men chatting? I can hear that at work anytime I need to–and at least, I know at work the conversation won’t be steeped in male privilege and racism. I don’t know. I don’t like criticizing Black gay men, but how can you ignore all the Black women screaming at you about the misogynoir Edwards is very happy to display on social media and his videos? And not even ask the question?

I’m not sure I entirely trust Talarico–he’s got charm and charisma for sure, but I also don’t trust Graham Platner in Maine, either. They say they won’t be another Sinema or Manchin, but Fetterman ran as a progressive only to show his unwashed MAGA ass once he was elected, also like Sinema, who I hope to have the chance to slap across her grifting face some time. I know I won’t live long enough to piss on her grave, but I am very hopeful I’ll be able to do that to Fetterman’s.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back in the morning tomorrow. Till then!

The Chicago River at night as it flows through downtown on it’s way from the lake–or did they finally allow it to flow into the lake again?

  1. Who apparently got his start working for Andy Cohen at Bravo? Yet another crime to lay at his misogynist door. ↩︎