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. ↩︎

Keep It Together

Saturday!

His Majesty let me sleep late this morning–I did wake up at six and went back to sleep after a glance at the clock–and I feel rested and good. Yesterday was a surprisingly good day, all things considered. I got my work done, got the chores done, we went to Costco, and last night we watched the newest episodes of The Shards and Reacher. I didn’t get as much done as I would have liked; the dishwasher needs to be unloaded and the counters are a mess, too. I have to order some things for delivery this morning, and then I’ll be all set for the weekend. My current plan is to not leave the apartment except to either take out trash (there is quite a bit of it), or to cook out. Next weekend LSU has its first game and it’s Labor Day weekend and it’s Southern Decadence, but this delicate magnolia flower actually can’t really handle standing around in oppressive heat anymore. I didn’t do any reading or writing yesterday, so hope to get to some of that today while I clean up around here and get the house under control. Ambitiously, I want to finish this chapter and a short story draft I’ve been working on, but we’ll see how everything goes. I also want to get out another newsletter this weekend, so I need to decide which draft I am going to finish.

But I do feel pretty good this morning, which is a very lovely sign that the day might be a good one.

Honestly, I’ve been in a bit of a funk this week. I thought it was because of the one-two punch of Dolly Parton and Tim Curry dying, which definitely played a part in it, but it’s also the weekend of the Katrina anniversary, which has always been an subconscious downer and mood-suppressor for me. It’s why I was so low-energy this week and unfocused. (I did enjoy seeing Carrie Underwood getting dragged for the filth she is on Threads and her post about Dolly. She really thought we’d forget her bending the knee for the tangelo toddler; she thought fucking wrong. I also laughed at loud at some stupid show business “journalism” website posting that Kristen Chenowith play Dolly in a bio-pic–the nicest response I saw was “do you want people to actually watch it?”)

This has been rather an interesting week, has it not, for stupidity and bigotries? Good Good now is claiming Callaway set them up to take a hit while buying their stock back at a much lower price because it dropped dramatically in trading price because of the abuser ad, and threatening to sue the. Oh, cute little stupid white boys–welcome to unregulated capitalism, and for being so fucking stupid you trusted a bigger company as a “partner.” You were of use to them until you weren’t. (I suspected this whole thing was manufactured to drop the stock price; you were the idiotic sexist jerks who gift-wrapped it for them.) But I also think it can easily be proven that people were demanding that Callaway abandon the partnership, too. I also love how the “boys” at Good Good (they aren’t men) feel betrayed and cheated and made the patsy–well, the number one rule of the business world is never trust anyone completely; always keep an eye open because they will screw you at the first possible moment, but it all sounds like Good Good trying to cope and shift blame….typical for white people, especially white men who are used to being catered to on everything. Maybe this lesson can make up for that high school diploma and college education you passed up, Garrett Clark, because you are now toxic and so is your brand…and it was all very public.

Good luck to you getting that stain out. But I’m sure you were smart with your big income and didn’t blow it and safely saved some and made some conservative investments with a low but solid and steady return.

Yeah, right!

Milo Yiannopoulos was arrested by ICE yesterday when he flew into New Orleans for his employer’s concert here last night. Mr. “we need millions and millions deported” is now going to be deported because he turned on his original foul lord and master. This is an excellent example of leopards feasting on his face or FAFO. I hope he enjoyed his stay in whatever detention center ICE has set up here, and Louisiana doesn’t concern itself too much for the health and safety of anyone incarcerated…so either they’re using one of the local places (I’ve crossed my finger for Orleans Parish Prison myself, but I’d prefer to see him picking cotton at Angola.) No, I am not celebrating ICE; I still consider them no better than the Gestapo or the STASI. I am, however, enjoying another far-right piece of shit getting exactly what he wanted for other people. I hope he’s banned from the country. Fuck that ex-gay pedo enabler/excuser, now and forever. His mugshot was terrible, and I love the petty bitchery of Homeland Security releasing it. They’re finally detaining the worst of the worst, and the schadenfreude is as delicious as a face is to a leopard.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will see you again tomorrow morning.

I love this view of the quarter and the river from the window of the Tennessee Williams Suite at the Monteleone Hotel

Spanish Eyes

Work at home Friday! I feel most excellent this morning as I sit here at my desk inside the windows, my windows covered with condensation and it being actually very chilly inside this morning. It’s in the high seventies outside right now. I ran errands on my way home yesterday and felt pretty worn down when I got inside and fed the Sparkster. Sparky wanted to sleep in my lap, so I gave in and provided him with a lap while I saw in my easy chair and did my usual catch up on the news thing while my min mostly wandered. I didn’t do any of the chores I wanted to get done last night, and this morning I do regret pushing that off until this morning. I have my biweekly team meeting at ten, and lots of paperwork to get caught up on today so I’ll be off-line for a good portion of the day, and we’re going to Costco this afternoon when Paul gets home from work. Today is the big laundry day, as it ever is, and between that and Costco–I may get some reading done; we’ll see. I may rewatch a Dolly Parton movie while doing my paperwork; I’ve been meaning to revisit The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas; why not this weekend?

What a week this was! I’m still a little frazzled from the one-two punch of Dolly and Tim Curry’s deaths–and the whole Callaway Golf/Good Good controversy (among others that broke this week, too) was completely insane. What was even more insane was watching the same men who got pissed that women will always choose the bear over a man, gaslighting women that the ad we all saw with our very own eyes, wasn’t “bad” or “just a joke.” (Hilarious how these asshole men kept doing this despite the apologies from both companies, the ad being pulled, and admitting they made a huge misogynistic error–but the “undescended testicles” brigade are still at this morning. Shock. The way some men will always circle the wagons to protect other men is why women choose the bear.) SO, I did do a bit of a deep dive on Garrett Clark, who issued the nine-minute non-apology yesterday. DId you know he was homeschooled, went to a private “Christian” school aka a segregation academy aka a Christian Nationalist school. Is it any wonder he thought shoving a woman to the ground and then getting in her face threatening her was funny? Apparently, his father told him to drop out of school because he was making so much as a content creator (it’s not like he was getting an education anyway), and you know, he was clearly raised and groomed to be a piece of shit pig man.

I also don’t think he learned anything from this, either–he’s just sorry his business is going down the toilet. Sporting goods stores and Costco pulled the merchandise, their reality show was canceled unaired, and both Callaway and the PGA severed ties with Clark’s stupid-stupid company. I guess he can put that excellent education to use now.

But in all honesty, the golf bro community will give him a chance to redeem himself–watch and see! There will be all these interviews about how hard it was to go through this, but he wasn’t that person and had to prove that to everyone (not anything about the lessons learned, if any are actually learned) to redeem himself, patting himself on the back all the time for how wonderful he is. And then he’ll say, with a very well rehearsed look on his face and a tear in his eyes, about how he is actually glad he fucked up, because learning made him a better person. The golf bros will all burst into tears and welcome him back with open arms and shoot loads in their pants while bashing “overly sensitive” women.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

But…women hold grudges, a quality I have always appreciated and try to emulate as much as possible. The North remembers, so does Pepperidge Farm, and so do women…and so do I.

Sigh.

But I am hoping for a lovely, peaceful weekend. Obviously, I have no control over the news or what’s going to potentially happen in the world, but hope springs eternal. I want to finish reading that book, get some writing work done (as always) and I need to send out another newsletter this weekend. The house is a mess, and today is, as I have already mentioned, a big laundry day, too. LSU’s football season begins a week from tomorrow, and I am starting to get a bit excited. I do love me some college football, after all, even when LSU isn’t doing well. Expectations are very high for a quick turnaround this season, but I am cautious and temper my hopes and prefer to wait and see how everything plays out. Last year, after LSU won the opener at Clemson, they were ranked in the Top 5, which was utter bullshit–as the rest of the season showed. (Polls–whether they are political or sports-related, are generally bullshit, which anyone who’s paid attention in the last ten years plus could tell you…which is why I am hopeful for the midterms, but not going to be surprised if it doesn’t go well. I’ve ceased giving my fellow citizens the benefit of the doubt anymore, and tend to expect either the worst, or the barest minimum, from them these days. Sigh.

And on that note, I am going to go get started on my chores before my meeting, and get going on the day job work, too. Have a lovely Friday, and I will be back tomorrow morning. Until then, ta-ta!

A nice looking young man, but why do so many underwear/swimsuit models all use the same size prosthetic bulge?

Act of Contrition

Thursday and it’s my last day in the office for the week, and I’m kind of glad to not have to get up tomorrow morning. This week hasn’t been terrible as far as being tired or sleepy or feeling worn out as I was–or has this been the case now for a while and I wasn’t paying attention? (That does tend to happen quite a bit.) It’s not sleepiness that causes me to hit the snooze button; it’s how comfortable and relaxed I am in the bed and under the pile of blankets that makes me not want to get up…and that’s every morning, not just the ones when I have to get up early.

Everyone is still reeling from the loss of Dolly Parton–who kept her cancer diagnosis private so “people wouldn’t worry” (so typical)–and it is very sad. I’ve been meaning to rewatch The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas for any number of reasons; maybe this weekend would be a good time? Maybe so; I saw it in the theater back when it was released and greatly enjoyed it, despite its many flaws. Naturally, there was some trash on-line who decided to be nasty about Dolly; there was one bitch in particular whose account eventually disappeared–her biggest reason for calling out Dolly’s mourners is because Dolly recorded a duet with Kid Rock and defended it. Oh my God, why wasn’t she burned at the stake? I believe that particular piece of shit may have either blocked me (I didn’t engage so not likely) or deleted her account. There was another one to that also trended for a while–a redheaded pile of dog shit I had already blocked. Anyone who is being shitty about Dolly Parton is a fucking piece of shit themselves. Dolly was the purest example of living Christianity we maybe ever had–so it wasn’t surprising that both the far right and the far left came for her. They really are the same people.

And now, Tim Curry, too? I’ve loved him since the first time I saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and the performance was so fucking iconic that everyone who’s played the role since (sorry, Luke Evans) has just mimicked Curry’s performance and never quite equaled the master. He was usually the best part (or one of the best, at least; he did make a movie with Madeline Kahn, after all) of everything and anything he was in; his Cardinal Richelieu made the execrable remake of The Three Musketeers in the 1990s–and that’s a story I love, so for me to hate the film it had to be bad, right?–bearable. In fact, that was my entire opinion on the movie: Well, at least Tim Curry was in it. And yes, as I wrote about for my newsletter, seeing Rocky Horror when I was nineteen or twenty was eye-opening and mind-altering. He was just so out there and erotic and sensual and so not like anything I’d ever seen or imagined before (well, besides Liza in Cabaret)…Curry was a cultural touchstone for me, much as Dolly was.

What a shitty fucking week this has been, am I right?

Celebrity deaths generally don’t hit me very hard, with a few exceptions (Whitney Houston is one), but Dolly kind of left me off-balance, and the follow-up punch with Tim Curry while already reeling was very disconcerting. I ran an errand on the way home from work last night, and once I was home I just settled in for the night, mindlessly watching short documentaries about the Pacific War and thinking about the book. OH! A marvelous thunderstorm has just rolled in! It’s pouring rain outside! That will make driving to work fun this morning! (I actually don’t mind driving in the rain–safe and snug and dry inside the car while all hell breaks loose outside of it–but I do mind other drivers in the rain, who are absolutely terrifying here. You’d think it never rained here the way drivers here lose their minds driving in it.)

So, Janky Jeff is letting the Space Nazi build a “space port” here in Louisiana; on the Gulf Coast in Vermilion Parish…you know, on the wetlands1 that are at or below sea level–what we call a . What could possibly go wrong? A Category 3 storm surge will wipe it clean, if it doesn’t sink in the marsh first (concrete is heavy; which is why we can’t keep the roads up in New Orleans). But I am sure Janky Jeff and the Space Nazi did environmental impact studies in an endangered wetlands and…ha ha ha ha! NO they didn’t. I’d be surprised if they even did a feasibility study. This is going to help Louisiana continue to erode into the ocean and is going to destroy or wreak havoc on the ecosystem. I wonder how much Janky Jeff pocketed for this deal? Senate candidate Julia Letlow certainly has pocketed some.

Pecan Island Spaceport. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning. See you then!

This picture captures the essence of how I viewed New Orleans when we first moved here–a decaying yet still beautiful place with wild overgrowth. I think this may be the house they used for the exteriors for Mayfair Witches, as opposed to the actual house at First and Chestnut which is the actual house from the books.
  1. Pecan Island, the site, is what we call a chênière, a sandy ridge with live oaks. ↩︎

Fever

Tuesday, and day two of my return to the spice mines. I was a bit groggy yesterday, and felt a bit tired in my legs for some reason, but it wasn’t anything, really. And I certainly had the energy to walk around the office pretty briskly while at work. We were busy in the morning–it’s been awhile–but it slowed down in the afternoon so I could get caught up on paperwork and so forth. We also had a marvelous thunderstorm system move through yesterday afternoon; on my way home it was still sprinkling, and it was wonderfully cool. I went to the post office and made a small grocery run and was home before six, which was also nice. Once I was home, of course, I had to feed Sparky and give him some attention before we put on the new episode of Furious (so damned good), followed by an episode of Outer Banks (so damned silly but strangely entertaining; so what if it doesn’t make sense?) before going to bed for the evening, where I slept very well. I feel pretty good this morning, too—if hungry; this morning’s coffee cake slice did not do the trick this morning; I should have eaten something last night but just didn’t feel up to messing around in the kitchen. Tonight I’ll bake potatoes, I think; I have some mushrooms I need to sauté in butter, too; Kerrygold works marvelously for this, by the way.

Sorry/not sorry about the cattle ranchers and farmers going bankrupt. Were all those liberal tears worth it? You voted for this not once but three times (excuse me, #not all ranchers). You wanted ICE, you wanted no regulations, you wanted a whites’ only country, and you kept what? Like four trans girls from competing in sports? You voted for all of this, you pathetic beta cuck bitches, and look! Here you are with your hands out for socialism. That’s practically communism! (Actually, the government controlling the means of production and market IS communism–so all that foul beef, that may or not be wild horse meat–for the record, you fucking idiots. But hey, wasn’t it fun calling Kamala Harris a whore who slept her way to the top? Is losing your cattle and your land worth screaming “Lock her up” about Hilary Rodham Clinton? You tell my community we were freaks and pedophiles and don’t deserve rights? Why the fuck would I give a shit about bailing your homophobic racists asses out with MY tax dollars. Like the student loan situation–didn’t you all oppose that? Aren’t you concerned about the national debt anymore? You scream at the top of your lungs about it whenever there’s a Democrat in the White House; why so silent when your votes are responsible now for it being so incredibly astronomically raised, higher than ever in history? Oh, no, you’ve got your palms up begging for relief from the taxpayers you gladly mock and vote against all the time? Like student loans, why should the taxpayers be on the hook for your poor choices? You don’t even have the balls to NAME him, like the submissive mongrels you are. No, you blame the government–you can’t even say anything critical of him personally. You’re fucking afraid of a pedophile.

Miss me with your low-T whining, you little bitches. Some MEN you are. Your ancestors would be ashamed and embarrassed, you entitled shits.

This was all in Project 2025, by the way. Everything that has happened since he was sworn in last year is straight out of Project 2025; you know, the thing they all lied to you about so you wouldn’t read it…but you were too busy “owning the libs.” Good job. Now someone else is going to own your land and you’ll be homeless and on the dole. Come on guys! Aren’t you the “pull yourself up by your bootstraps real men who don’t need anyone” types? Seriously, go fuck yourselves now and forever.

I was also highly amused to see that the Tate Brothers had to admit to a court that they are broke, they don’t own any of the properties or cars or jewelry they paraded around on-line to give unfuckable young men something to cling to since the world is “so unfair to them!” Whatever happened to “nobody ever said life was fair?” Has anyone checked on the incels today? What with Spider-man whomping on Jake Lang1 this weekend, the collapse of the Tate Brothers…can the collapse of the bros and the so-called man-o-sphere (cuck-o-sphere is more accurate) be far behind?

We started watching Lanterns this weekend, too, and I’m enjoying it. I do like both Kyle Chandler and Aaron Pierre (my God that man is beautiful), and I’ve always liked Green Lantern (I pretend that execrable film with Ryan Reynolds never happened). The show has a kind of slow burn feel to it, and I like that a lot.

I was pleased to see that Nicholas Hoult has bowed out of the TERF Queen’s tv show because of “scheduling conflicts”…I saw someone on-line said, “Yeah, the scheduling conflict was a phone call from an angry James Gunn asking him, why are you buttfucking my Superman sequel?” I, for one, was perfectly willing to never see anything he’s in again–I’ve been a big fan since Warm Bodies–but…he’s still kind of tarnished with homophobic slime, now. I don’t think I’ll ever be as big a fan of his again. His replacement can’t act anyway and mostly looks constipated–so no loss not watching him in anything again…which I’d pretty much decided after Pompeii already. Pompeii was exponentially worse than all of the Twilight movies combined. And I fucking despise Twilight with the white hot passion of a dozen burning suns.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I am going straight home from work tonight, no stops, and hope to get the kitchen under control. I’ll be back tomorrow, of course. See you then!

I took this picture from the upper balcony at the Times-Picayune office on St. Charles; Paul and I were there for their Friday night before Mardi Gras parade party. I just love how it turned out.
  1. And why is someone with an ankle monitor able to travel so freely between states? Who is bankrolling him? Inquiring minds want to know. ↩︎

Dear Jessie

Tuesday, and we definitely survived another Monday, did we not? It’s technically my Hump Day, as tomorrow is the last day in the office for me for the week. I slept fitfully again last night, but I feel okay this morning. I hit a wall yesterday afternoon, as I feared I might, but managed to make groceries on the way home from work. Once home, Sparky needed my lap for a while–is there anything nicer than being tired and having a purring, sleeping cat curled up in your lap–and I was content to just sit there, let my mind wander while catching up on the news (oy). We also watched an episode of Furious, which just took a diabolical turn I did not see coming, and am itching to get back to it tonight. I have a nice sort of busy day here at the office, which will help the time go by. I slept fitfully last night, but not a big deal. I feel okay this morning, as I did yesterday morning, but I did hit a wall yesterday afternoon. I stopped and made groceries on the way home, and settled in for the evening once I got here. Sparky needed some attention, as always, and I was happy to oblige–there really is nothing like having a purring cat sleeping curled up in your lap after working all day. We did watch another episode of Furious, which took an interesting and unforeseen turn in this most recent episode. I didn’t seem to get much of anything else done yesterday other than going to work, really. Oh, well, no big deal.

I’m not putting any pressure on myself to do much this week, using the big birthday as an excuse for doing very little this week, but maybe tonight I can get back into the first four chapters of the current work. There are also some short stories I need to finish, and of course I need to do a birthday newsletter musing about becoming a senior citizen–and how weird it is to know that I started first grade sixty (!!!) years ago. The world is still burning, and of course there’s a stubborn percentage of voters who think this is the country operating at full blast, and somehow we’re going to emerge from this great again. It’s too much to hope for that this despicable administration has exposed all the cracks and flaws in the system and everyone can agree that an overhaul is necessary; the hard core faithful will go down with the ship and form the kernel from which the next treasonous rebranding of fascism will grow. (We thought after 2008 we were done with that, but then came the astro-turfed Tea Party, which the racist media gobbled up–after all, the media learned nothing from Iraq and Afghanistan–and went back to their job of being opposition to the president…which they will never do with Baron Harkonnen. I did find a meme on social media the other day that showed the Baron from the David Lynch version of Dune, comparing him to his modern real-life iteration, and it was eerie how spot on I was with that. Also glad I wasn’t the only one to see it.)

Heavy sigh.

I am going to stay positive despite feeling a bit tired and hope for a lovely day. I do love my morning coffee, but God damn, I hate waking up to alarms. Always have, and when I was in school I never was really awake until third period or so. It’s not so brutal now as it was when I had to start getting up this early (which I knew was just a matter of time once we moved into the new building; my glorious days of not going into the office until ten or eleven didn’t survive the pandemic, but I knew we were heading that way when we moved), but I still don’t like it. Five more years of this before I retire, I suppose–providing that’s even possible in our post-democracy era. I am still holding out hope, like the ridiculous optimist I am, even in the face of stark reality. The nation will be looted and bankrupt by 2028, if it’s even possible for us to have elections still at that time. This isn’t going to end without bloodshed, I fear (like Cassandra) because these kinds of things always do–and our proud American tradition of pretending it never happened will kick in if it doesn’t. The failure of Congress and the Justice Department for not investigating thoroughly the chain of lies and outright fraud that got us into two forever wars–and followed up with prosecutions. Has our Congress ever not be completely corrupted? I also saw that Grassley is running for reelection–which means he’ll be 102 at the end of his term if he wins. Is it really that hard to surrender power? Hasn’t he robbed and stolen enough from his constituents already? We need term and age limits, frankly. The Founding Fathers didn’t write term limits into the Constitution because it never occurred to them anyone would want to make politics their career. It was seen as you do your public service and then you go home, much like the military.

But no, we have been plagued throughout our history by these power-hungry greedy pigs almost from the very beginning instead.

Ah, well.

I am going to see if I can get the reread of the draft-so-far done today, with notes and making things more organized, and maybe even go ahead and outline the next four chapters? Why not?

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

White Heat

Pay my bills, pay my telephone bills, pay my bi-ills….

There’s always a song cue in my life; and every time Pay the Bills Wednesday rolls around, I always hear “Bills, Bills, Bills” by Destiny’s Child in my head, even though the song is about a leech boyfriend, not losing a lot of your paycheck to bills…but that big Entergy bill is worth every penny in the summer. I have to say air conditioning is a gift from heaven that we should not turn out backs on, or scoff at. Now that the air is working again in my car, it’s made a huge difference. I wasn’t sweaty and crabby when I got home from work yesterday; I felt good. Maybe it was also because I remembered the injection was due on Monday (I forgot Monday with all the car stuff), and did it yesterday morning? I don’t know, I don’t need to know why I feel so much better, but all of these things could easily be related. Feeling how the car a/c works now has me wondering how long the a/c wasn’t functioning properly? It took that truly nasty heat dome thing to make me finally realize something was wrong with it.

Yesterday wasn’t a bad day. I only added 300 words last night to the book, but that’s because I know the rest of the chapter is going to be hard. (This is the part when I’m on deadline when I just type finish this scene later, which always makes me want to cry to the heavens when the deadline is soon and I get to that in the revision…I know I am not the only person who does this, either.) But I do feel like the better I am feeling, the easier the writing is going to be? Does that make sense?

Are all these heterosexual hockey romance shows doing as well as Heated Rivalry did? I know they aren’t a cultural phenomenon the way the queer hockey show and I literally have seen no conversations about any of them, anywhere. So typically Hollywood to get the wrong message, isn’t it? “People must have watched for the hockey! IMAGINE if the romances were STRAIGHT? We’ll be printing money!” Yeah, no, that’s not the right lesson….but at least when those shows fail, we won’t get blamed for them; which may make them think even deeper about Heated Rivalry’s virality, but I doubt it. They’ll just think it was a fluke, or it was the cast. Which is good for the cast, of course, but not so much those of us who want to see same-sex relationships. But these are the people who saw the huge success of Barbie and thought the takeaway was “more toy movies!” No, it meant you finally gave women a reason to go to the movies and they turned up in droves…as well as anyone else who wanted to see a good film with a feminist message critiquing modern society and culture.

It’s astonishing how bad Hollywood can be at originality and creativity. Billy Wilder would be making pictures for television now if he were in his prime currently because his movies wouldn’t be seen as bankable.

Can I just say that Abdul el-Sayed is hot, hot, hot? Then again, he’s also very smart and quick on his feet, which is even more hot, in my opinion. Interesting, though how the centrist battle–cry of vote blue no matter who only applies, apparently, to white straight men. These are the same kind of Democrats who tried to water down the New Deal and did water down the Affordable Care Act…even if we do take congress back this fall from the Unwashed Flat Ass Party doesn’t mean they’ll accomplish anything because, well, Fetterman and other Democrats like him. There’s always at least one Trump sympathizer running for the Senate to sabotage any and everything and to completely back him (looking at you, racist Vindman with the skank wife in Florida), because we will always have the Sinema and Manchin sell-outs (I really hope the rest of her life is even more miserable than she deserves, and she should never go out in public without being heckled; same with Manchin. I hate her, more, though, not because she’s a woman because she’s an out bisexual who stabbed her own community in the back repeatedly to stand with McConnell and Trump like the syphilitic quisling skank1 she is.)

Furious is really good, y’all. It goes far beyond the usual “FBI agent starts tracking serial killer” trope, by getting more deeply into who Alice Black is as a character, why she left the police, and why she is the way that she is–cold, driven, thoroughly professional without empathy, which can be hard to watch when she’s interrogating a teenager who witnessed her father’s murder–but we know why she’s the way she is…she is working her way through PTSD from an abusive relationship, and it’s an extraordinary performance by the always underrated Emmy Rossum. And given the motivations of the killer, I’m not really sure she qualifies as a serial killer–because, yes, the bodies are piling up, but their connection is through her having been trafficked as a child…so yes, she is a very clever and vicious killer, but at the same time she is a victim and her tormentors are horrible people who would never see justice for what they did…another stinging indictment of our society and culture, really.

Injustice for one is injustice for all. I was taught that in grade school. I guess my public education was “woke,” even as it indoctrinated us all in white supremacy and American Exceptionalism.

I am very sorry to add Nicholas Hoult, whom I’ve enjoyed watching since Warm Bodies, to the “dead-to-me-will-never-watch-again” fake queer ally list. Hope your HBO check from the Chatelaine of Castle Hate is worth it. *Cough* Sydney Sweeney *cough*. This is why it is impossible for queer people to ever completely trust straight people–they will always choose their wallets over any “alliance” with a marginalized group. A shame, because I loved Superman, but …no views, clicks, or money from me going forward. The thing these people forget is that we never do. We also never forgive. Even an apology–which won’t be coming, believe you me–and withdrawal from the hate project won’t suffice for me.

You see, I believe people when they tell me who they are. Bye bye, Felicia! You’re not an ally if you’re only one when it doesn’t affect your bottom line. Thanks but no thanks.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you tomorrow

I’ve had a crush on gorgeous Latino hunk/actor/model William Levy since he was on Dancing with the Stars…can you blame me?
  1. Bisexual erasure is bad enough without skanks like her making them all look bad. ↩︎

Think of Me

Monday morning and here we go again, climbing back onto the carousel of yet another work week. I feel good this morning, even if the weekend felt truncated with dealing with the car and being exhausted all day Saturday (and rather listless). My supervisor will only be in today before she leaves for an Ryan White funding conference, and I have to renew my CPR license on Thursday afternoon. I’m also having dinner with a friend on Wednesday, so there’s a lot on my agenda this week to keep track of; it’s so easy to forget things these days. Here’s hoping for a better week!

Okay, let me tell you the deal with my car.

I took it in early Friday morning to get the oil changed, the tires rotated and to have the a/c checked out. The good news is we know why it isn’t blowing cold air; the bulkhead had shifted somehow, and where it is at, it pierced the hose the connects the freon to the a/c, so it drained. However, they can’t replace the hose without having the bulkhead fixed or replaced; because it would just happened again. It took them all day to finally give up on the body shop and send me an Uber to get the car. This freaked me out, of course, and while I didn’t have a mental reaction thanks to my medications, I had the physical reaction of adrenaline spike, heart rate increase, etc., which was probably why I was so tired and exhausted Saturday. I also looked the “bulkhead” up on line–I was thinking about bulkheads, like on ships–and the part, if it needs to be replaced, isn’t even two hundred dollars, so any concerns about potential affordability were alleviated. I just have to deal with the heat and no a/c until I can get it to a body shop this coming Friday, and then back to the dealership on Saturday to get the hose and freon taken care of.

Cars are exhausting, aren’t they?

I have to say, the schadenfreude of watching the inevitable immolation of Jeannine Pirro’s life and career over this past weekend has been nothing more than chef’s kiss, no notes. The hilarity of seeing the minions, again and again, forgetting they don’t have immunity from illegal orders and watching the scorpion sting them repeatedly will never get old to me, never. The hubris of this bootlicking pointlessly arrogant piece of shit was due to bring her down eventually, and it’s almost as enjoyable as the downfall of that miserable pig Pam Bondi and her burn book. May they all endure humiliations galore. And I mean all of them.

Remember: “I was just following orders” isn’t a defense in court.

Have fun with your civil liability, Judge Boxowine, and you should be charged with malicious prosecution and abuse of the courts. Hopefully, he’ll die without giving your skank ass a pardon. Then again, you publicly called him a liar, so no pardon for you. I am sure being disbarred is also in your future.

Good.

I worked on the book some. I was struggling with chapter four, which made it hard to get back to–ugh, it’s work and it’s hard–but yesterday I felt good (and brave) enough to look at it again…and what I had been struggling to do? It was because I was trying too hard and basically sketched out, in less than four hundred words, what was going to happen in the first fifteen hundred to two thousand of the chapter, so I went to work. It’s nice not having a deadline to stress me out, but at the same time it also allows me to step away from it for a bit without worrying too much about losing/wasting time. I hope to get this chapter out of the way tonight when I get home–I have to make groceries, too, on the way–and run the dishwasher tonight while I sleep. I also got some reading in, which was amazing. I love lazy Sundays when I can just get things done.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Enjoy your Monday as much as you can, and I will be back here tomorrow morning bright and early.

This abandoned country house kind of reminds me of my maternal grandmother’s home, which is now abandoned and crumbling and overgrown like this. She had a front porch, though.