Category: editing

Skin

Well, we survived Monday, didn’t we? It wasn’t even iffy this time. I woke up before my alarm yesterday morning, only hit snooze once, and then got up, wide awake and feeling rested (Sunday I was still feeling a bit worn out, not sure why), but I felt very good all day yesterday. I ran a couple of errands after work on my way home, which was nice. We weren’t terribly busy yesterday so I was able to get caught up on some things around the office, and somehow tomorrow we get paid again? It seems like we did just get paid, you know. And it’s almost October, and we’re well on our way into football season. I feel pretty good this morning, now that I’ve got some coffee and my breakfast sandwich into my system and my body is going oh yes, we like how this feels. I also ran some errands on my way home, but Sparky was very needy when I got home. He didn’t even want to be fed until I’d picked him up and let him wrap around my neck while headbutting me and purring. After he ate, he wanted my lap (he’s so needy after he’s not been home alone all day for a few days) and so I thought let me catch up on the news but once he was asleep in a puddle in my lap, I was done for the evening. When Paul got home we caught up on Lanterns–which is really phenomenal and may be the best super-hero TV show of all time–and then we started a Spanish language show, Oasis, which is the same kind of show as Elite was, only with a summer spa/resort in the place of the school. I guess it’s more The White Lotus?

Tonight I have to swing uptown to get the mail, and may stop to get some things on the way home; we need some bananas (they get so overripened so quickly these days) and maybe some ice cream as a treat? We’ve not had anything like that in a while–we’re consciously trying to be more healthy, food-wise–so maybe, maybe not. I’ll see how I feel once I get in the car and to the store. The weather is still scorching during the day, topping out around 100 or thereabouts, but it’s dropping into the seventies at night. This is what passes for fall here in New Orleans, or football weather, at any rate. I know next month is when we’ll experience the big drop, down into the seventies/low eighties during the day but dipping into the sixties overnight, and sometimes colder. I doubt we’ll get snow this winter, when it finally comes, but you never know anymore, do you?

I see that Jaxson Dart got injured last night1, the day after Aaron Rodgers did. Shame that karma came for you both; I wonder whatever for? What could either quarterback have done that would…oh, who cares. Fuck them both. I don’t waste empathy on garbage.

I am going to try to be productive today, since I failed so miserably last night. I need to empty the dishwasher and reload it, pick up things in the kitchen, take out the trash, and straighten the rugs. I made lunch for the rest of the week this morning, so that’s taken care of for now. Outside of the bananas, I don’t think we really need anything else….maybe I should just stop at the grocery in the CBD on my way home from work tomorrow? I don’t know. Decisions, decisions, right?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning!

The Krewe of Dolly is anchoring the second-line on 9-25.
  1. Can a Congressional investigation be far behind? ↩︎

Nothing Really Matters

LSU lost last night to Mississippi, and wow–the world didn’t end. It was disappointing, to be sure, but I don’t go on the emotional roller coaster that I used to, and that’s a much better way to be a football fan, methinks. No need to foam at the mouth or jupup and down or scream at the television. There weren’t many surprise outcomes yesterday, other than Kentucky beating Texas A&M, right after the Aggie crowd cheered Pete Hegseth, and why was he even there in the first place? Remember, the UT fans booed and embarrassed Ted Cruz, and won. Everything they touch dies, seriously. Alabama needed a hot minute before pulling away from Florida State, the Georgia-Arkansas game was so bad I couldn’t watch, and it sounds like Florida-Auburn came down to the wire, maybe being even the best game of the weekend. (I also didn’t know before that Lane Kiffin had played at Fresno State, either.) The Saints game with Baltimore is on at eleven this morning, and I’ll probably turn it on while do other things; I did a lot of cleaning yesterday while Paul was out, which was nice and very overdue.

I really do like this being old meaning you have less fucks to give about shit. No one told me about this side-effect of getting older…maybe I’ve finally become wiser? Nah, not likely. Just don’t really have any extra energy lying around that I can waste on things that really doesn’t matter anymore, or things I can’t control. (I always tried not stressing out about things I can’t control, but before medication, that wasn’t the way my brain was wired.) Hence, not being angry or super-disappointed about LSU losing last night. I’m still going to watch games every weekend; part of the fun of being a football fan is seeing how the season plays out–which is the more graceful and adult way to approach the season.

I did manage to reread The Stepford Wives yesterday, while taking breaks from cleaning and game-watching during the earlier games of the day. I had just revisited the book and wrote about it last year on this blog; I may write about it on the newsletter today, I don’t know. But there are other points to be made about the book and films, and I can go in more depth in the newsletter than I could with this blog. Ira Levin was absolutely one of the greats, and what he was able to do in his novels with so few words was a gift from the gods. I hate that I am unable to focus enough to read something new; I am going to try again this morning with The Shards. I also want to reread The Miracle at St. Bruno’s as a way in to talk about the Tudors and all the reading about them I used to do, and of course, Mary Stewart’s The Ivy Tree is also sitting there in my Kindle.

I also watched this week’s Real Housewives of Orange County, which keeps limping along and somehow escaping cancellation. The new season of The Traitors has also already dropped its first episode, and hey announced the cast for the next season of celebrity Traitors for the US, and it includes Bianca del Rio! That news more than makes up for them casting MAGA skank and Charlie Kirk worshipper Kristen Chenowith, who is probably trying to rebuild her image after she revealed her true skank self last year. I’d want to be a traitor in that season just to make her the first murder.

And on that note, I am going to get more coffee and repair to the easy chair for a bit, so I can wake up a bit more and do some reading. I also hope to write today, too, so we’ll see how all that goes, won’t we? I will, however, see you again tomorrow morning bright and early before I head to the office. Till then, have a marvelous Sunday however you spend it.

This is what we call in Louisiana an allée–a straight unpaved pathway through. matching trees or shrubs. It’s a very fun word that I want to use more.

Substitute for Love

Friday morning work at home day, with a trip to Costco on the horizon for later. I feel good and rested this morning, despite the fact Sparky tried to get me up around four in the morning for some reason. I did wake up, gave him a look, and went back to sleep while he cuddled with me, which was lovely. I was physically tired when I got home from work last night, so didn’t do much of anything other than writing. I did managed to get a (very) rough draft of that pesky chapter–which still needs some work–which has kind of log-jammed me these past few weeks. My goal for tomorrow is to edit everything I have done so far, preparatory to moving on to the next chapter and reacquainting myself with the characters, the voice, and the story. Woo-hoo! There are also a lot of great football games tomorrow, capping off with the one-two punch night games of Florida-Auburn and LSU-Mississippi.

The amazing thing to me about this Ed Sheeran thing is that it keeps going, and every day and hour it continues to go on the worse he looks. That’s what happens eventually when you’re more interested in being inoffensive–you wind up offending everyone. The fact that so many people he’s friendly with (and works with) are in the Epstein files kind of shows how morally and ethically compromised he is. When I was watching the news last night, I saw someone–I don’t remember who–talking about how entertainers, like Sheeran, are the modern day version of “bread and circuses” from the old Roman Empire (first time I have thought about the Roman Empire in days, if not weeks, for those keeping track–entertaining the populace and keeping our minds off everything else going on in the world. They keep us distracted (look at social media sometimes; it’s why there’s so much celebrity worship) so we will spend money and not see what the Epstein Class has done (and continues doing) to the world and society. Ed Sheeran got very rich doing his part to entertain and not talk about anything substantial (although the white children of Ukraine got him to be political)–he even says it in his pitiful “it’s not my fault” Pilate handwashing statement (“I want to provide a space for love and peace and escape”)…that’s very telling–and it’s hard to look at any of this and think Sheeran has any values, has any compassion or empathy or is, at heart, a decent person. He fucked over a friend at the bidding of a billionaire, has tried to deflect his part in this from day one, taken no responsibility for anything, and shows that he stands for nothing but the Epstein class he continues to make money for.

Does that sound like someone we should support? Christ, Ireland hates him now.

This entire situation is a classic example of what is fucking wrong with this country: a billionaire who diddled kids got his widdle fee-fees hurt, and he stamped his foot in anger and demanded he get his way, and he got it. They are above the law, an unelected and unchosen ruling class no different from the old British aristocracy, entitled fools with too much money who didn’t give a fuck about anyone other than themselves, while people went hungry and sick and died while they gambled away small fortunes at night while too drunk to see.

And the fact that both Sheeran and Robert Kraft are too privileged to shut up and stop digging their own graves just adds fuel to the fire. Sheeran went along with the silencing and suppression of a voice because it upset a billionaire.

That tells me everything I need to know about the Gingerdoodle.

And that’s it on this subject1–I’ve given too much time and energy to this nonsense already, but this naked abuse of money and power is infuriating to me, and always will be.

Ah, the coffee is now kicking in. I want to get another newsletter finished this weekend, clean out my email inbox, and of course, work on the book some more after I get my work duties done today. Costco and the other errands will undoubtedly wear me out, so I won’t do much tonight when I get home from all of that, other than finishing the laundry which I am starting this morning. I know the new season of The Traitors dropped its first episode last night, and there’s something else starting up again that I like watching, but can’t think of it right now. I also want to read a bit this weekend–which reminds me! The other day I mentioned a copy of The Miracle at St. Bruno’s, and I said there would be more later…and forgot.

The Miracle at St. Bruno’s is a historical Gothic set during the turbulent reign of Henry VIII and the great divorce–and how what was going on at court politically affected those every day citizens who had no control over the ever-changing legality of, well, everything. The Tudors were my real entryway into world history (or rather, modern European history) because Henry VIII was such a fascinating monster. I read a lot of Tudor biographies, but the only historical fiction I had read up to that point was mostly fictionalized biographies–history as entertainment–of royal Tudors. I even read a biography of Lady Margaret Douglas, one of the lesser known but crucial pieces of the Tudor body politic and the very thin line of succession that Tudor sterility caused. Philippa Carr was the by-line on the book, but it was another psuedonym of Eleanor Hibbert, a British writer who also published under the names Victoria Holt and Jean Plaidy. It was vastly different from another other Gothic I’d read, taking place over the course of about thirty to forty years, with the turbulent reigns of successive Tudor vastly differentiating in their religion and policy. It was also the first in a series called Daughters of England, because she wrote about the main character in Miracle’s sequel–each new book a new Gothic romance featuring the daughter of the previous book’s main character–and history and politics are also driving forces in those books as well. I may start a reread this weekend; I need to get back to reading fiction again.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely Friday, everyone, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Live oak stumps always fascinate and sadden me. The size is impressive, and they are beautiful to look at…but the sadness is from the tree being cut down. Our live oaks are so beautiful here in New Orleans, and we’ve lost so many in the thirty years we’ve lived here.
  1. I do love watching people reap what they’ve sown, you know? ↩︎

Drowned World

And here it is, Tuesday morning, and I feel pretty decent. I slept better last night than I have in a while, which was lovely, and comfy as the bed was this morning, I got up and wasn’t tempted to stay in bed longer than I could or should. Sparky wasn’t too hungry this morning, because he didn’t even come up before the second time I hit snooze. I didn’t do much of anything last night after I got home from work; I should have made groceries (or had some delivered) but it was 100 degrees when I got into the car to come home yesterday afternoon and it just sucked all the life out of me before I put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb. Ah, well. I also didn’t do much of anything once I got home, either; I plopped down into my easy chair and Sparky curled up in my lap and that was it for the evening. I caught up on the news, started watching another episode of Scream Queens, which I interrupted when Paul came down to eat and we watched the latest Lanterns. I really love that show; it may be one of the best super-hero TV shows of all time; definitely up there with Agatha All Along, which was amazing.

And while I may not have done any writing yesterday, I did think about what I am writing right now, which is always a good thing, and far better than actually not thinking about it at all. I should be able to get this hellish transitional chapter finished tonight or tomorrow, and then I can move on to the next chapter. And yes, I just remembered I always have problems with Chapter Five. Sigh. It’s amazing how much we forget how painful writing a book can be whenever we start writing another week; helpful selective amnesia, much as how we here in New Orleans forget every year how bad summer can be; every year it’s like a horrific reminder, and the same goes with writing a book, especially when your only deadline is your own, you know? Contractual deadlines are entirely different kind of stress and aggravation, but much as I always worry when I sit down to write that words aren’t going to come, or that I’ll veer away from the story I am telling (it’s easy when your mind wanders as much as mine does), and while I always hate having to cut good writing out of my work because it doesn’t fit, no matter how pretty the language is (“kill your darlings”), sometimes it is necessary. (Right now I am resisting cutting this opening sentence for the chapter: There’s nothing better than a nap after some intense fucking. I love that sentence.)

Ah, my coffee is kicking in and I am feeling pretty good and awake and cheerful now (I know, right? What is wrong with me?) ; we’ll see how the rest of the day goes, shan’t we? We’re not terribly busy in the clinic this morning, so I should be able to get some of the paperwork done that I need to get done around my appointments. My new testing room is taking some getting used to, because I always have had my clients sit to my right when I am testing them; now they are on my right and the entire room is geared to the left instead of the right, which is taking me some getting used to; it’ll probably feel normal to me by the end of this week. Changes of habit aren’t easy when you’ve been doing something almost exactly the same way for twenty years, you know?

The news continues to be grim, and while I see many people being excited about a blue wave, that’s not taking into condition the possibilities that there will again be election shenanigans, or election outcome shenanigans. We’re already well on our way down the path to authoritarianism; it’s now a question of what will be left to rebuilt from once this administration and its un-American treason. (Interesting how the presidencies regarded by historians as the most corrupt in our history always has an R after their name, isn’t it? Grant, Harding, Nixon, Bush II, and now this thing.) I also believe two things about yesterday’s dialing back of AI by the plagiarists who want to make “thinking machines’; one, that the money dried up and it’s all about to crash and take the economy with it, and two, they’ve finally realized they can’t contain it, and that technology, in the wrong hands, is extremely dangerous. (Has no one at all ever watched the original Terminator movie, or Blade Runner, or The 100, or read Dune? Christ, even Azimov killed off all the robots in the universe except for one!)

Oh, I did finish writing a newsletter about Flipper, which is scheduled to go out tomorrow morning. I have to say, I am enjoying myself writing these newsletters, and I am slowly but surely beginning to feel more confidence about writing them, which is a really good thing, methinks. The fiction I’ve been writing at a snail’s pace is also much better than things I’ve done over the last six or seven years–or at least, I feel much better about them. I feel more confident about writing in general, I think; it’s just a matter of reining everything back it and focusing on getting things done.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Hope you have a great day, thanks as always for stopping by, and hope to see you again tomorrow.

Those boots? With THAT bandanna? Gurrrrlllll…

Ray of Light

Monday and back to the office with me this morning. Sparky is being needy this morning for some reason, but that’s fine. I’m still a bit groggy this morning, but I finally had a deep night’s sleep–I didn’t sleep well all weekend–and have a lot of emails to answer. When I get to the office this morning, I have to finish setting up the new testing room I use at work since they moved me last week, andI don’t know how busy we are going to be, but I need to get cracking on so many things. I’ve been a bit lethargic since my birthday–subconscious depression on being a senior, perhaps?–but…while understandable, I don’t have to like it because consciously it doesn’t bother me at all.

Or perhaps I doth protest a bit too much.

The Saints lost yesterday 31-30 in overtime, which was exciting if disappointing, and it was, overall, a pretty decent overall day. I hadn’t slept well, so wasn’t a ball of fire yesterday morning, but I did get another load of dishes done and did some more cleaning and organizing during the Saints game. Once that was over, we switched to the US Open, followed by this week’s Reacher, which is always fun. I then queued up another episode of Scream Queens–the Lea Michele makeover episode–and then we watched Supergirl, which was far better than I had heard or hoped it would be. I’ve always been partial to Supergirl–aka Superman’s lesser known, far overshadowed cousin–and was crushed when DC killed her off in the Crisis on Infinite Earths reboot of their entire universe. She returned in that universe later, but she was a by-product of the matrix that healed Superman after he died in the 1990s. I hated that the first big screen adaptation was so badly fumbled, and I didn’t last more than a couple of episodes of the television series. Bit I greatly enjoyed this movie, and Milly Alcock was terrific. I always thought her back story was dark and twisted–she was older when Argo City was destroyed, and so her PTSD is way worse than Clark’s, as the only survivors of an extinct race. I’m sure it didn’t do as well as it should have because the comic book incels were all girls can’t be super-heroes, duh as they opened yet another bag of Cheetos Puffs.

There was a lot of stupidity on-line yesterday, and all I could do was roll my eyes at the ignorance on display. I think my favorite stupid post was some stupid homophobic bitch who referred to The Song of Achilles as centering “Achilles’ often overlooked friend.” Um, did you even fucking read the book, you idiot? Yes, yes, they were just friends. Really close ones, the kind that actually fuck, and were buried together so they could be side by side for all eternity. Suuuuure, Jan.

But as I sat in my easy chair watching the US Open final after the Saints game yesterday, an idea flashed through my head for a reboot of a short story I want to submit to an anthology call. I started writing the story originally during #metoo (yes, it was a #metoo story) in which I had a horrible male author drop dead at a cocktail party honoring his retirement from teaching creative writing at the master’s level, who had helped launch a lot of careers–but he was always an inappropriate pig with his women students, and my main character–a lesbian crime writer, witnessed some strange activity at the party before his death. (I also had his past behavior echo things I’ve seen or heard male authors say to women authors–y’all really have no clue what women think of you, do you?). I’ve rewritten it any number of times but it never really has worked, and….then last night, I knew how to make it work and the new opening line came to me. I got my laptop out, wrote three paragraphs (it’s completely rebooted now), and then opened the current chapter of the book and wrote slightly over a thousand words on it, too. I also solved the mystery of the book last night, and realized my killer (in the book) wasn’t the real killer and then it all clicked into place. So, I was very pleased and happy when I went to bed last night, which was awesome, and then I slept well, which was even more awesome.

So, I am feeling pretty good this morning as I head back into the spice mines. I hope this week will be a good one for all of concerned, and I will be back bright and early in the morning again. See you then!

This was the view from our rental condo in Acapulco twenty years ago. Such a lovely trip.

Sanctuary

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and how are you this morning, Constant Reader? I didn’t feel like I slept very well when I first got up again, but now that I’m swilling coffee I feel more rested and relaxed than I thought I would when Sparky started rubbing against me and purring. It was also very nice to come downstairs to a cleaned and organized kitchen. I worked on the kitchen during the Michigan-Oklahoma game and did more during Alabama-Kentucky. Kentucky was terrible through the whole game, and Alabama played down to their level for three quarters. Likewise, LSU had an equally poor start against Louisiana Tech before turning it on in the second half. After LSU was winding down, we switched over in time to see Texas’ last minute comeback to beat Ohio State (good for you, local boy Arch!), which was also fun, as was Auburn’s domination of Southern Mississippi; overall, a good day in college football around the Lost Apartment, and the Saints start playing today, I think at Detroit? I really do love my football weekends in the fall. I was thinking about that very thing yesterday–and how much my love of football is connected to love of my family because we always watched football together.

Looks like another Democrat has thrown the trans community under the bus, and as I said, I am almost done completely with that party. I am so glad I never sent that prick Talarico a cent, and I am tired of grudgingly voting for them because they’re not quite as homophobic as MAGA. If leftists can become single issue voters and send the country down the drain, why can’t queer people? Oh, we have to unite, no matter what, despite homophobia being in our faces every day and the Democrats are too fucking afraid of having a spine that they are partly to blame for where we are now–and don’t think I”m not including Schumer and Jeffries in that enormous flaming pile of shit. Not one Democrat will call out Talarico and the other, either. That’s how much we matter to this group of spineless appeasers who can’t make a stand for humanity and decency. Never, ever, trust a fucking Christian minister, and don’t trust the bootlicking bottom feeders like Keith Edwards1 that support them and label them progressive. Listen to Black women, for fuck’s sake.

I’ve tried now, for years, to justify watching Real Housewives shows despite kind of feeling like a bad child getting away with something every time I do watch. The women are generally terrible people for the most part, and I try to embrace the mentality of a friend–“you shouldn’t feel guilt for doing something you enjoy”–but when the something that you enjoy makes you question on occasion if you yourself are contributing to the national brain rot and success of truly horrible people for simply being truly horrible people. I suppose there is something to the notion that they aren’t popular for being terrific, which is what they do seem to think. I need to really explore this more–why I enjoy the shows, what I get from them, and I believe a lot of the appeal is escapism, like the old night time soaps in the 1980s. A good case in point, though, is when you see housewives out of their usual element–like on The Traitors or Ultimate Girls’ Trip, I get a better impression of them and find myself liking them more. (Porsha was a lot of fun on The Traitors, for one example.)

But this Biermann child rape scandal is absolutely horrifying and gets worse with every new revelation. I have personally hated that woman since the first time I saw her on Bravo, and could never understand why this creature had a following on a show that was giving us Nene and Sheree, and more Queens later; we did not need this gold-digging narcissist on our television screens for any amount of time, let alone the spin-offs or bringing her back to the original show again. I remember her saying “I want to die in Dior” in that first season, and now it looks like she should die in prison for failing her children and most of all her own daughter; while still making excuses for her predator son and bailing him out and calling his more recent accuser a liar and other names, when she already knew he’d raped his sister. That is a disgusting human being. And no, I am not saying Kroy is without blame here, either. I never understood that relationship or marriage, honestly. I tried to respect her choices, I’ve tried to think of positive spins on her; she’s unashamedly herself, no matter how awful and amoral that self may be–but then I think about her offering her teenaged daughter up for a blow-job for John Legend tickets for the same son and you really begin to wonder what the hell was going on in that house? My sympathies are for the other children, frankly. As for Andy Cohen, he continues to show himself the worst kind of gay man, using and humiliating women and making them grovel for crumbs from his table.

Sigh.

I did send out my newsletter yesterday morning, and it got a mostly good reception, I wondered, because it was a reflection of 9/11 and the way this entire century has seemed so regressive ever since, even while some rights were gained, far many more were lost. (you can read it by clicking here.)

This weekend was good so far, overall, and I feel rested and good. I hope to get the rest of the apartment cleaned and tidied today–probably will do that during the Saints game–and I even reorganized the refrigerator, which was way overdue.

And on that note, I am getting another cup of coffee and making some breakfast before I head over to my chair and read for a bit. I hope to get some writing done, too–but…Saints game. See you here tomorrow morning, Constant Reader!

You know, he didn’t lose until he wore a T-shirt underneath to hide his nipples. Just sayin’.
  1. If you’re a friend of Taylor Lorenz, you’re a racist piece of shit, too. Hope this helps, Keith. ↩︎

I’d Rather Be Your Lover

Thursday and the last day in the office for the week. I woke up to a marvelous thunderstorm that I am not going to want to run to the car in, but there are worse things. I wish I was still in bed and under the covers! There’s no rain just yet–or it’s not coming down very hard–but the lightning is very close, so I’m getting quite the light show outside my windows as I swill my morning coffee. It also explains the sinus attack I experienced as soon as I got out of be (thank you, sweet relief from Claritin-D), and I do feel a bit groggy physically–not mentally–but the shower will take care of that. I am very delighted it’s Thursday, and I am having my work-at-home day again tomorrow. I do have a doctor’s appointment at eleven, and I’ll run errands after that before getting home and settling in for the evening. I doubt I will do much of anything when I get home tonight–which is what usually happens on Thursdays–but I need to at least do a load of laundry and empty the dishwasher. Ah, the glamorous life never ends, does it?

For a pay-the-bills day, yesterday wasn’t that bad, other than watching my bank balance dwindle as I paid said bills. I slept really well and didn’t want to get out of the warmth and comfort of the bed; I even went to bed early on Tuesday night because I felt a little inside-out. We were steadily busy in the clinic but not in a bad, exhausting way, and that was nice. It had rained overnight Tuesday night as well so it was a little cooler yesterday–in the 80s and not terribly humid (or, horror of horrors, I’ve adapted to it), and I did run errands on my way home. I spent most of the evening getting caught up on the news for the day, ignoring that gathering of evil in Dallas (GRINDR crashed again, quelle surprise), and rolling my eyes about all the college football lunacy and the complete meltdown of on-air personalities around it (more on that later) and I eventually went to bed early. (Paul was late getting home, and will be again tonight too–meetings.) It’s so dark outside with the storms! I really want to get back into bed and pull up my warm pile of blankets over me, but that isn’t anything I can do, alas…tempting as it is to call in sick.

I’m not sure what the hell is going on, but I find it interesting that as everyone is struggling to put gas in their cars and food on their tables is that my credit cards have been raising my limits. Now, my credit rating has been improving, as I continue to pay the debt down, but not so significantly that my credit companies have raised my limits by either doubling or even tripling my credit with them. I know having more available credit improves your credit score, but increasing the available credit also means more available credit which means the rating will go up again which means the credit lines will increase again and damn, what a fucking merry-go-round this is. Ah, he’s paying off his cards that means he’s more solvent and can take on even more debt! Seriously, fuck off with these evil increases.

It’s quite exciting that we have two US women and two US men in the US Open semi-finals; when was the last time this happened in the same tournament? It’s been a long fucking while. Andy Roddick was the last US man to win the Open, and of course, there were the years of Venus and Serena at the top of the women’s draw.

Well, it looks like all the LSU/SEC drama has subsided. For the record, y’all should know that not only has LSU embraced its villain era, so has the entire state. I’ve also been highly amused watching all the ESPN “analysts” beat their chests and scream to high heaven that the Lane Train is trying to undermine and ruin college football. First of all, the initial question–can people who signed pro contracts but were never paid and never played regain their final year of eligibility in the wake of a recent court decision granting some players from 2022 an extra year; does that apply in this case as well1? It’s a fair question that deserved an answer. The Big Ten and the SEC then decided to ban “pro” players, defining “pro” as anyone signing anything with a pro team, without question and without discussion. It’s murky, and it was our governor and attorney general who started the legal shit. LSU is being blamed for the actions of its governor and attorney general–and remember, the governor fired anyone who could oppose his will at LSU and its Board of Governors, and our new athletic director is just a Janky Jeff rubber stamp. The real problem in Louisiana is its elected officials. I kind of hoped people would turn on him for potentially fucking up LSU’s football team, but instead Louisiana reverted to its usual “everyone is out to get us!” mentality that is the reason we have the elected officials we have.

And really, wasn’t this all about Greg Sankey’s ego? He’s already fumbled the leadership position the SEC had for years, letting the Big Ten take over. And really, look what happened as a result of all this nonsense. LSU’s season opener was one of the highest rated season openers in televised college football, even with a two hour rain delay before the game started. The ratings for LSU-Mississippi are going to be off the charts. Everyone is talking about LSU and Lane Kiffin in ways they’ve not been talked about since Joe Burrow graduated. Every single pundit forgot all the legal mess after that game Saturday night and has just raved about LSU and its potential this season ever since…and that’s his plan: make LSU impossible to ignore. As for me, I just rolled my eyes. Were they really going to kick LSU out of the SEC? I think Sankey got in his widdle fee-fees because he wasn’t asked how high as LSU jumped to his fingers snapping, and he sure didn’t like that, did he? Very testerical of him. Maybe we should have a woman commissioner, since men can’t handle their emotions?

I did manage to get a little work done on the book yesterday–very little, but something is better than nothing.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Enjoy your Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning without fail.

  1. Note: pro basketball players from all over the world have played in the NCAA, notably at Alabama, with no controversy. ↩︎

Don’t Stop

Midweek already? Time has no meaning to me anymore, really. It’s going to be October long before I’m ready for it. How crazy is that? I’m still having trouble wrapping my mind around it being football season already. There are some good games this weekend (LSU is playing Louisiana Tech), like Alabama-Georgia and Oklahoma-Michigan and Ohio State-Texas, and isn’t it early in the season for marquee match-ups like that? I guess the SEC is going to decide this week whether to expel LSU or not; Greg Sankey has never liked having his power questioned. But one thing is for sure: the NCAA started all of this NIL/paying players thing without covering every base, and the most positive outcomes from this will be answering unresolved questions about eligibility. It’s really hard to argue against eligibility for people who signed professional contracts but never played or got paid when they can get paid in college. I thought the mentality behind this whole pay-the-players thing was to encourage playing college for four years…you can’t really tell someone “well, you signed a contract to get paid, which means you can no longer get paid at the collegiate level,” can you? Make it make sense. There needs to be a more clearly defined rule, is all–and if they didn’t think coaches would push their limits, they thought wrong. As a very biased LSU an, I try not to voice opinions about these things when they involve LSU because my instinct is always to defend my team–it feels like someone telling you your dog is ugly–but in removing emotion (or trying to) and only using logic tells me that it’s actually a problem that needs a definitive answer–which everyone seems to be hedging on by turning it into an “LSU problem” when the reality is that decisions should be in the best interests of, I don’t know, the actual players? Actual courts of law inevitably rule against the NCAA, which is why the system is so broken. If they kick LSU out, so be it–but don’t think our governor and attorney general will let that sit, and honestly? Every time Janky Jeff and the Lizard insert their sticky hands into anything, they make everything worse–and they aren’t very smart to begin with; they’re just stupid, lazy, and corrupt with no issues abusing their own petty power. I mean, they sell out their constituents every chance they get, and it really bothers me that they’ll never face any consequences for their abuses of power.

The week already seems off to me, because it’s again a short one. I have to see my doctor on Friday, and I have a meeting that morning. Maybe we’re going to Costco? I don’t know. But the good news is I started writing a short story yesterday for one of these anthology calls I’m interested in; whether I am able to finish it and turn it in on time for consideration is another story (which is why I have so many partial stories in the files; I’ll start writing one for an anthology but not finish it, and then years later I’ll find it, can’t remember why I started it, but will finish it and get it published–this is what happened with “The Sound of Snow Falling”, which is coming out in Unloaded 3 this fall. It’s very creepy, and there’s no corpse. (Well, creepy and disturbing if I make it work the way I want it to; we’ll just have to see, won’t we?

I see that Ben Shelton managed to beat Carlos Alcaraz last night after I went to bed. I’ve not really gotten into the US Open that much this year, but…I love watching good tennis, but I don’t feel connected to any players, other than Carlos, but seeing the rise of so many young Americans on both the men’s and women’s sides is kind of exciting. It’s been a while since we’ve had any Americans on the rise. (Although I do always enjoy watching Novax lose.)

I watched a short video the other day about the murder of Jesse Valencia in Columbia, Missouri (he was a student at the university), and there were so many twists and turns before the murderer was identified–and as always with a gay murder, repression and the closet played a major role in the case. There’s a novel there, but I have to wrap my mind around it to get the story and point of view I would want to use. I have often thought about how dangerous it is to be gay, and how many of us go home from clubs and bars and parties with someone we just met and know nothing about; it’s a wonder more of us aren’t murdered, to be honest. A serial killer, for example, could kill plenty of gay male hook-ups before anyone even noticed–and if he’s hot, they’d never think twice about leaving with him–which, of course, is something I’m exploring in a in-progress novel that may be finished some day.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. It’s even Pay the Bills Day, and I completely forgot until just now. Get your head together, Gregalicious! See you tomorrow!

As good looking and sexy as he is, I always find these “here’s my ass!” poses kind of funny, and always wonder if they’re straight and if they know what the photographer is actually going for….

Waiting

Guten morgen, Samstag! Hope you’re doing well, Constant Reader, on this first day of the holiday weekend. Today is also the first Saturday of college football, with games on all day. I don’t care about most of them, honestly, but will probably watch Baylor-Auburn this afternoon and of course, LSU-Clemson tonight. I am sure I am going to hear endless commentary on Coach Kiffin and these lawsuits, which is not going to be fun to listen to, especially since there are very few “analysts” on ESPN whose opinions I respect or take seriously. They’re paid to talk, period, and most of the time during games they are just bullshitting with each other about nothing I want to know anything about.

Yesterday was rather chill and lovely, the kind of Friday I truly enjoy. It started off differently–me having to get labs drawn and then go to the office for a meeting, after which I ran errands. I didn’t have nearly enough coffee, and by the time I was finally home and working it was nearly noon, which is too late for me to have more. I also didn’t have lunch until later, but managed to get a nice flow going, with chores and work and so I got more done than I would have thought, and was feeling pretty good and rested most of the day. We watched Venus and Serena play doubles at the US Open, which took care of most of the night. I made Swedish meatballs last night–they were very tasty–but as a result have a messy kitchen this morning, which I’ll have to do something about. But I feel very rested this morning, which is terrific, and I have until 2:30 to do things around here before the Auburn-Baylor game. I need to order some things for delivery, too. I’ll cook out around five-ish for our “tailgate” like I always do, and since there’s football to be watched (reading while the afternoon game is on), I won’t get any writing done. I’ll clean and organize and read while the games are on, and this morning I need to order groceries for delivery. The Saints don’t play until next Sunday, so I imagine we’ll have the US Open on all day Sunday. And of course, there’s also Monday, and a short work week this week.

But it’s somehow September already, with a few more months to go before 2027 rolls around. We also have the midterm election insanity to get through, too. Heavy sigh. I am not optimistic, and I certainly don’t trust polls, and I absolutely do not trust the Heritage Foundation or the Federalist Society, let alone the billionaires and Elon. (And no, I will never forgive any of the people who voted for this. Ever. No sympathy or charity from me, thank you very much, and none of you are taking any responsibility. You absolutely voted for this; if you didn’t see it as clearly as the rest of us, that isn’t our fault. Own up to your bigotry and racism for once in your miserable existences, do self reflection, and maybe–just maybe–I’ll try to forget what fucking ignorant hateful trash you are. Someday, maybe, but certainly not any time soon.)

Meh, this may turn out to be a recharge day and you know, that’s okay, too. I just ordered the groceries to be delivered and am about to get a second cup of coffee (or “joe,” if you want to be hard-boiled about it) and maybe put some bread in the toaster. I also need to wash my face again, and may as well get cleaned up once I finish breakfast and post this. (The play-by-play is fascinating, isn’t it?) Sparky let me sleep past seven this morning, and was lying against me when I woke up like the sweet boy he is. I don’t want to clean up this kitchen, but I can’t really do anything in here until I do. Maybe the toast and second cup will finish the job of waking me up and making me lively. It’s not that I don’t have energy this morning, I’m just not having a lot of luck summoning it up at the moment, hee hee. (This, by the way, is why I call myself lazy–instead of getting to work I just laze around instead of doing anything productive and make excuses for it. (I may have the anxiety under control, more or less, now–but my brain still clearly has a lot of issues.)

And on that note, I am going to finish my toast and second cup and am about to head to my easy chair for a few moments, and I’ll probably read for a bit. The groceries will be here between 12 and 2, and I can get a lot done before then, methinks. Or not. We’ll see. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back again in the morning.

It’s amazing how many muscle groups he had to engage to take that shirt off, isn’t it?

Words

Thursday morning, and another good night of sleep was had! I feel very rested and good for a morning this late in the week. I have a lot to do today at the office, which should help the time pass, and I may stop and make groceries on my way home this evening. I did feel good when I got home yesterday, and so did some chores before giving Sparky a place to sleep for a bit while I watched the news. I know everyone thinks the midterms are going to change things…but my deeply cynical self fears the country has already fallen and there is going to be chaos and violence. I always hope I’m wrong, but I’ve been Cassandra so many times before; so many things I foresaw decades ago have come to fruition.

In good news, piece of shit transphobe Seth Moulton lost his senate primary challenge to Ed Markey, and oh, look! A so-called progressive trashed trans people and wanted to throw them under the bus! “I’m sorry if my words hurt you.” The if is the same thing as a “but” in my opinion and implies he only insulted and offended some trans people. No, bitch, most of us queers support our trans siblings and throwing them away like garbage shows you’d do the same to others if you thought it politically expedient. All that work, your entire career–sabotaged and savaged because you finally showed us who you are and we believed you. Fuck off, and good luck getting elected again in Massachusetts. Any Democrat who throws the trans community under the bus is MAGA but wearing a mask (hello, John Fetterman!), and needs to be thrown under that same bus so they can see how it feels. I suspect they won’t like it–they usually don’t. See: MAGA regrets on TikTok. Like the cattlemen their precious God-Emperor just fucked over. They thought they were hurting other people, and if it affected them, well, he bailed them out with a welfare check last time, didn’t he? It ain’t happening this time, and now they are begging the people they voted to hurt to help them out. My favorite response? Turns out you can’t own both the libs and your farm. NOW you want us to care? You get upset when you ask you who you voted for? I periodically wonder about all the people I cut out of my life for being amoral; are they still proud and gleeful?

I also finished a newsletter and sent it out yesterday, which you can read by clicking here! I watched The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas again1, this time through a more modern lens, to honor Dolly’s passing, and I talked about the movie in the newsletter. I am also working on one to send out on Saturday, and yes, it’s about college football and yes, mostly about LSU. I generally don’t pay a lot of attention to all the rumblings and talk before games actually start–nobody really knows anything about anything yet, it’s way too early in the season–but I did see some stuff about Lane Kiffin and LSU pissing everyone off again; something to do with signing players who had signed NFL contracts but never played or were cut before the season? I don’t know and I don’t care to know, frankly. The whole paying players but they’re not pro is very weird to me, and opened the lid to Pandora’s Box; it also seems weird to say you can’t pay for college and get paid if you signed but never were paid in the NFL? The NCAA is clearly not capable of managing this new system, if you want my unasked for opinion, but there’s naught to do but sit back and see how everything plays out. But I will say–the amorality at the state government level seems to be seeping into the LSU athletic department. This recent thing with Kim Mulkey is despicable–and the rehired basketball coach for the men was fired for cheating the last time he was at LSU. I guess we are entering LSU’s villain era.

Apparently, Gloria Steinem died, which isn’t a surprise as much as it is startling, I guess. She’s been around forever, and she helped change the world for women. Reviled and hated by conservatives for daring to suggest that women aren’t from another planet but actually capable human beings, she just went on telling truths that conservatives didn’t want to hear. I read some of her work back in the late 90s/early aughts when I was trying to undo my male-centering upbringing. It was revelatory; the systemic abuse and control over women the patriarchy encoded into our society is so deeply rooted that it’s shocking when you start seeing the world through a feminist lens. I recommend reading Steinem for any man who wants to unpack his internalized misogyny; it’s certainly an excellent place to start. Personal growth doesn’t end when you graduate high school.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will be back here at some point tomorrow morning.

I’ve always loved the shine of a sweaty torso—but long sweaty hair always looks greasy.
  1. It’s been a really long time; probably decades. ↩︎