Category: Saints

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. ↩︎

Secret

Work-at-home Friday, and here we are! I am taking the day off because I have a doctor’s appointment this morning and I have another one in the afternoon. Sigh. That’s what sick time is for, after all, and I am going to try to get caught up on things I’ve let slide longer than I should have. It rained most of the day yesterday, along with flash flooding in the metro area and yes, they were thunderstorms. When I woke up yesterday morning, I opened my eyes in time for a very bright flash of lightning, followed instantly by a low rumble of thunder that lasted as I pulled on my sweats and fumbled around in the dark like Velma on Scooby Doo Where Are You looking for my glasses. By the time I got downstairs, turned on the kitchen lights and the coffee maker, it was pouring. The water draining off the roofs and the rain fall on the side yard made a stream about two inches deep, and the current heading toward the street was very, very fast. I’d used my wagon last night, and hadn’t folded it up and put it away, so it was out there filling up with water. It was still raining heavily when I went to work, then the rest of my work day it was off and on all day. Yesterday was an odd day at work, actually. We’re restructuring the department again, which meant the testing room I usually use needs to be used by someone else–our next nurse, which meant a big production of moving me to another testing room. Long story short, they set me up in the wrong room but I couldn’t get into the room they wanted me in because someone else had already set up in there for the day. So, I couldn’t set it up or anything, and piles of the stuff I used in the original room was stacked up on a table, which made the room look messy, and yeah–I didn’t like that off-balance feeling. It wasn’t raining when I ran some errands on the way home, and then Sparky and I got in the easy chair and got caught up on the news. Paul came home late, but we watched the finale of The Shards (more on that later), then Coco’s exit from the US Open before going to bed. I did sleep very well, and I actually feel pretty good this morning. I am going to do some chores around here before cleaning up for my appointment, and this afternoon I’ll get to work cleaning and doing laundry.

It’s also 9/11 today, and the 25th anniversary of that horrible day when everything changed. I’ve been working on a newsletter about my own memories of that day and time; and everything that happened afterwards. It’s a very somber day–kind of how Pearl Harbor Day was more of a thing when I was a kid, because it had only been twenty years since the Japanese attack when I was born. Not even twenty; I was born in August and the twentieth anniversary was in December, of course. We barely even notice December 7th anymore, which is wild to me; when I was a kid I thought we’d always remember World War II–which is clearly not the case.

The Shards was infuriating. For one thing, nothing was resolved in the finale. Why would you open the season finale of a show with a major subplot involving a serial killer with a new, completely unrelated murder and turn the last episode not doing much with the serial killer at all into a whole new whodunnit, which is completely unresolved. Nothing was resolved, everything was left hanging, and I have no one to blame but myself for watching another beautiful mess produced by Ryan Murphy. I am going to start reading the book this weekend–people I know and respect loved the book and hated the show (quelle surprise), so I am hopeful that the book will provide more of what I wanted from the show (and didn’t ever get).

There are some good games this weekend, but LSU is playing Louisiana Tech tomorrow night at the same time as Texas-Ohio State, which means flipping back and forth between games. Will the Tigers have a big night against La Tech? Will Clemson rebound from last weekend? The Saints also play this Sunday, and I imagine we’ll watch the US Open men’s final, too.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and adjourn to my chair to relax a bit before getting to work on chores and getting ready for my appointment. So, gave yourself a lovely little Friday, and I will be back tomorrow morning bright and early. Til then!

Inside of Me

Sunday morning! I got up earlier than I thought I would this morning, given how late I went to bed last night because the LSU had about a two hour rain delay and didn’t get started until almost nine. I didn’t see that as a good omen, honestly, but…yeah, more on that a little later.

It rained off and on pretty much all day yesterday, which was nice. I felt good, if a bit on the low energy side, but it was fine. I had some groceries delivered, managed to get a lot of chores done, worked on straightening up the books, washed the bathroom rugs, and did two (!!) loads of dishes. Sparky was also cuddly and wanted to sleep on me most of the day since Paul wasn’t home; he worked out with his trainer and then went to the gym to do cardio for a couple of hours. I worked on the computer files some, cleaned off the kitchen counters, and organized the refrigerator. I should have been more tired, shouldn’t I? *snicker* In the morning, after I posted my blog and a new newsletter (which you can read by clicking here!) I went into the living room for cuddle time with Sparky. I finished watching The Burbs, and watched this week’s Real Housewives of Orange County (yawn) before putting it on to the Alabama game, which I didn’t need to pay attention to, and then had the Baylor-Auburn game on. It’s still too early in the season to know how good anyone is yet, so we don’t know what the seasons holds for anyone–I mean, Michigan almost lost at home to Western Michigan yesterday–which makes it all the more interesting to watch while dismissing “expert” opinions on who is or isn’t good.. It’s nice not being so emotionally vested in college football anymore (a topic for another time), to be honest, and dialing back my fandom in my dotage isn’t something I saw coming, but…it’s probably better this way. That emotional roller coaster I used to ride during LSU games was exhausting and unnecessary.

The Auburn-Baylor game turned out to be a lot better than I expected; wasn’t sure what to expect from either (I do like Baylor coach Dave Aranda, he was our defensive coordinator in 2019) and Auburn has a new coach this year. Can the new coach turn Auburn around and get them winning again? Auburn made a goal-line stand on a two-point conversion in the final seconds of the game to win, 17-16. Good for you, new coach! While it wasn’t an impressive outing for Auburn, they lost the close games most of the time in the last five or six years.

The LSU-Clemson game was weather delayed, as I already mentioned; we were also having a thunderstorm here. I managed to cookout between waves of the storm, and after watching the US Open during the delay, finally settled in to watch the game. Oh. My. God. As I said yesterday and reiterated above, it’s hard at this point in the season to tell who’s good and who isn’t. So, yes, it’s entirely possible that Clemson is really bad this year–but LSU beat them 51-10, and it wasn’t even that close. I’ve not seen LSU beat a top tier college team that badly in–well, since the Oklahoma game in the play-offs with Joe Burrow. The defense was incredible. It was also Dabo Swinney’s worst loss in his time at Clemson–maybe as a head coach in general. Sam Leavitt and that new running back Dilin Jones certainly looked amazing. Even the back-ups, going in late in the third quarter, looked really good. I had hoped for a big win, like I always do, but 51-10? Never in my wildest dreams would I have anticipated that. This is going to be a very interesting season, but Coach Kiffin sure seemed to be having a really good time last night, and Death Valley was rocking. I am trying not to get too excited, choosing to keep my “cautiously optimistic” hat on for now, just as I did with the 2019 team.

I also loved the signs at Gameday (I didn’t watch; because Macafee) that I saw on-line later: You can’t spell lawsuit without LSU and Don’t sue me Jayden I’m only 5.

I started rereading Celebrity by Thomas Thompson; it’s a rather long and deeply involving crime story that takes place over the course of over twenty years. It’s always been one of my favorites (Thompson wrote one of my favorite true crime “novels,” Blood and Money) and a friend mentioned it recently on social media, so I got it down from the shelves (I have my original copy still, hardcover) and started looking at it again last weekend, rereading the opening. Does it still hold up? No crime novel would ever get away with being this long now–it would have to be marketed as something else; I don’t know what it was considered or marketed as on its original release. I bought it because I’d loved his earlier true crime writing, and this intrigued me. I’ve always loved stories that go back and forth in time, with the reader not knowing much about what’s going on in the present. The book opens from the point of view of a cop at the hospital with someone having emergency surgery; all we know is someone has been arrested, someone is dead, and someone could die, but not who they are and how we got to the point, which is an excellent way to open a book, if you ask me, It’s not until we go back in time that we learn who the three central characters are, and we meet them as high school seniors whose graduation party plans have been rained out by a flooding rain…it’s also quite well-written, but I also wonder if anyone would publish it today. It’s going to make for a good essay, methinks.

I got an email yesterday with the subject line Six Gothic thrillers for fans of horror. Excuse me, what? It was one of those lists of books things, but…Gothic isn’t always horror, and horror isn’t always Gothic. Rebecca, for example, is a Gothic novel that isn’t horror. It really annoyed me–Gothic can be any number of other subgenres, but…I will have to concede that Gothic thrillers may appeal to horror fans. As someone who is a fan of horror and Gothics, I used to make that same mistake–but classifying books is not an exact science in the first place.

I also read a Richard Matheson short story yesterday. Matheson is one of my favorite writers; it’s amazing how many films and episodes of television shows (like The Twilight Zone) are based on his work, and I never think to include him (and Robert Bloch) as authors who have influenced me. I should revisit some of this novels…anyway, the story was a Western called “The Conqueror.” It’s actually very poignant, about a young man who has come west to prove himself as a quick draw duelist. It doesn’t end well, and is kind of sad; someone who, in 1871, wanted his fifteen minutes of fame. It also reminded me again what a master Matheson was.

I saw an anthology submissions call for crimes without corpses; in other words, any crime but murder. I don’t think I’ve ever written a non-murder crime story, which is kind of wild. Why do I always only think of murder when it comes to crime? Something to ponder at any rate.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I am playing today by ear; whether I read or write or clean or any combination of the above will remain to be seen predicated on what I am feeling like. I feel a bit lazy today–staying up so late but still getting up early is not recommended–so today is what it is. So have yourself a merry little holiday Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will be back again tomorrow morning! Till then, stay cool.

These kinds of staircases always make me think o The Haunting of Hill House. I would never climb one, but they are pretty to look at.

Don’t Walk Away

Well, good morning, Thursday, how are you doing today? Yesterday wasn’t a bad one, frankly. I woke up before my alarm, feeling very well rested, and went to work. I also had a good day at the day job, which included getting some things taken care of, and I took care of another (non-work related) task over my lunch break. I did get a little tired in the late afternoon, but it wasn’t a big deal and I also had to run an errand on my way home, too. I worked on the book some, but wasn’t really feeling it a lot yesterday. I’m a perfectionist, of course, and I’d rather not write something I know is terrible, but that’s what the next draft is for, too. I need to really get out of my own way sometimes. Sigh. WE also watched the season finale of Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, which was excellent, and set up a second season perfectly, which I didn’t see how they were going to manage, but they did. Highly recommended, of course. I slept decently last night, too, even if I did wake up a few times. I’ve not slept through the night in a while, actually; something to discuss with my doctor the next time I see him…which reminds me, I have a new doctor. Sigh. My previous doctor, whom I really liked, moved away and I am being reassigned to someone new. I hope this goes better than the last time my doctor moved and I was reassigned to a homophobic quack whose idea of being my doctor consisted of oh you’re just getting older, which led to my ulcerative colitis going undetected for years, and of course the misdiagnosis of my bicep tear, which resulted in a minor surgery becoming a major one….and the UC worked with the surgery to keep me weak, fatigued and brain fogged. I really should have sued him for malpractice; multiple medical professionals have told me that–which is frankly rare, as they tend to close ranks against outsiders, just like the police.

Sigh.

It looks like Ukraine is kicking the shit out of Russia now, and more power to them, as Moscow and St. Petersburg burn, their energy production has been crippled, and they are being driven out of Crimea, after a 12 year illegal occupation. I also appreciate that, unlike their foes, Ukraine isn’t targeting Russian civilians. How much longer can Putin hold on to power? A defeat in Ukraine and a surrender would probably do the trick–but I think he’ll hold on until his own people and/or military rise up against him. I highly recommend Vlad get the Romanovs-in-a-basement-in Ekaterinberg, but of course, your mileage might vary.

I am feeling a little spacy this morning, which is to be expected; it’s Thursday and I am slowing running out of steam like I always do on Thursdays. I have an all-day staff development tomorrow, which is mostly a training that we usually do at our own pace in free time during the work day. I hope I won’t be sleepy! I’m going to stop and make some groceries on my way home tonight; and I need to put the clean dishes away and take out some trash. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get some writing done as well. I am enjoying myself writing now again, and it’s something I wish I could dedicate even more time to; but I also like that I’ve somehow managed to wean myself out of the 3k a day binge writing I’ve done for so damned long. I want to finish Chapter 4 before planning out the next four chapters; because I am not entirely sure how it’s going to go from there.

I’m trying to not talk about politics on here anymore–if you don’t know where I fall politically by now, you really should do something about your lack of reading comprehension skills, although I imagine it’s too late for those kinds of considerations at this point. But JFC, how is this not the worst possible timeline? An exploding diarrhea pandemic? This is what happens when you vote for a narcissistic sociopath who thinks anyone is qualified for a high-level public service job as long as they lick his ass and pretend he won the 2020 election. Tonight he is going to put out some baseless claims about the 2020 Georgia elections, in particular the two senators who won–one of whom was reelected already, and the other is looking damned presidential already. Why people continue to attach themselves like remoras on a great white shark to FOTUS’ ass, but here we are.

Newsflash: he’s never cared about you, he never will care about you, and his autopsy is going to show an almost entirely smooth brain.

And here locally, our governor, Janky Jeff Landry, has decided to come for New Orleans because he and his should-be-disbarred piece of shit Attorney General filed criminal charges against her…newsflash: being Attorney General means you enforce the law equally, not target your political foes. Janky Jeff actually said this week that “New Orleans thinks it’s special” and “New Orleans isn’t the primary economic engine in the state anymore.” Would that be because of the fucking data centers that nobody fucking wants in Louisiana except for Janky Jeff and the donors who own his crusty unwashed ass? If New Orleans is so fucking unimportant now, Janky Jeff, why don’t you keep your crusty unwanted ass out of our city? No, you bring important guests to New Orleans all the time. You come to every big sporting event at the Dome–Super Bowl, Sugar Bowl, etc.–and love to eat our food and show off our city but then you’re going to shit all over it? Fuck you to the moon and back, you piece of shit. So Louisiana no longer claims the Saints? The Pelicans? Carnival? Jazz Fest? The billions in revenue New Orleans tourism brings?

By all means, Janky, take your VIPs to Shreveport or Lake Charles or Monroe. That will sure impress the hell of them. You’re doing such a great job as governor, too. How has anything he done improved life for any one single Louisianans? I’ve got time, I’ll wait, cuck boy. Take all the time you need.

Louisiana deserves better, and I will laugh my ass off if the recall petitions for him and his bitch AG succeed and they get voted out.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I hope I’ll be able to get my entry finished before the training tomorrow morning. Until then!

Sigh, Italy.

Something Like That

Monday and back to the spice mines for me today. It has been a glorious long weekend of sorts; and while I didn’t get nearly as much accomplished as I would have liked…it was kind of lovely coming downstairs this morning to a neat and orderly appointment. I woke up this morning with Paul on my right side and Sparky curled up around my feet, which was remarkably comfortable and cozy; I would have happily stayed there for hours. It certainly helped me sleep more deeply, methinks. I did spend a lot of time organizing and filing and cleaning yesterday, which was very nice. The twelve days of Christmas end tomorrow with the arrival of Twelfth Night, which officially kicks off Carnival season–which also means KING CAKE SEASON! Huzzah! I am going to pick one up on the way home tonight (since I have to stop anyway) but won’t be cutting into it until tomorrow morning which is TWELFTH NIGHT. And I won’t be using Christmas imagery any longer after tomorrow, either.

It’s dark outside my windows this morning, which feels a bit odd after getting up later for the last four days. The Saints also lost yesterday, but it didn’t bug me in the least; they seem to be gelling as a team behind this new quarterback, Tyler Slough and thus, hope springs eternal as ever for us Saints fans. I didn’t have the mental faculties to read very much yesterday, and I didn’t write a newsletter, as I had hoped to do. (It’s already started; I just need to finish it…) Part of this is Sparky’s fault; he was glued to me for the last two days–following me around, riding on my shoulder, wanting to sleep in my lap and cuddle.

It was also kind of interesting to just let the day happen, as I did yesterday. It was nice not being in a rush to do anything or feeling the ticking of the clock advancing as the day wore on and time passed. I didn’t do the living room floor–but I got the kitchen floor under control again. I also got a lot of filing and organizing of my work space done, too, which is terrific; I should be able to maintain the apartment easily from now on so long as I stay on top of it, or don’t let things slide for days or till the weekend. As I mentioned before, Sparky was glued to me yesterday and very needy, so I would do something and then have to sit so he could nap on me for a bit. Yes, I am Sparky’s bitch, but he’s such a dear little boy.

And of course, every time I think oh I can’t sit now, baby I’d remember all the times I’d said that to Skittle and Scooter and how I wish I could go back and love them even more than I did…and I am putty in Sparky’s hands. Skittle and Scooter did teach me how to love a cat. I doubt very much that it would work, but I wish I could have all three of my cats in the bed with me every morning. I suspect they were all meant to be only cats…but sometimes I think Sparky needs a buddy to play with…usually when he’s biting and clawing my arm in rough play. He does love to pounce…

I have to work in the clinic today, and we’re going to be extremely busy this week, so I sense I’ll be exhausted by the time the week ends. I know Paul wants to go to Costco this weekend, and since the house is clean, all I need to do is stay on top of things and then I don’t have to do anything major this weekend, and can start doing other things that need to be done. More books need to be pruned, more files need to be destroyed, and the attic needs to be thoroughly cleaned out.

And on that note, I best be going. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow in the morning.

Baby Now That I’ve Found You

Monday and back to the office with me this morning. I only have to go into the office today and tomorrow this week; the schedule is absurdly (almost ridiculously) light in the clinic for the next two days; somehow I’ll make it through to my lengthy holiday weekend. I feel good and rested this morning, too. It was a very lovely and peaceful weekend, and I managed to get a lot done (and I am not qualifying that anymore by decrying what I didn’t get done). Baby steps to a healthier me, which was one of the goals for 2025, wasn’t it? As a new year looms, it’s also time to start thinking about my goals for 2026…

Yesterday was rather nice and lovely. Sparky let me sleep in yesterday morning, and I did some chores throughout the course of the day. It was, as always, lovely to come down this morning to a mostly clean kitchen, with only a few things left to do tonight when I get home to reestablish order in the kitchen. Now that I’ve got the downstairs under control again, it should be a lot easier to maintain, which means I can spend time cleaning the stuff I never get around to–baseboards, windows, etc.–and I should probably take the car to the car wash at some point during the holiday weekend. I’ll have to still run errands, of course, but after I get Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve–we’re getting a deep dish pizza from That’s Amore out in Metairie–I should be able to spend Wednesday and Thursday without having to go anywhere. Huzzah, indeed! It was also gorgeous outside; it was in the high seventies when I ran yesterday morning’s errand. I think it’s going to be similar today, too.

The Saints won, which is three straight wins after a disastrous start to the season, which helped set the tone for a nice day. I also started reading yesterday, easing into reading Eli Cranor’s Mississippi Blue Forty-two and Bruce Campbell’s The Secret of Hangman’s Inn, the sixth Ken Holt mystery–both of which start very well. (The homoeroticism rampant I remember from the Ken Holt series is also on full display in the opening chapter, too.) I finally finished my newsletter about Laurie R. King’s O Jerusalem yesterday, too, and if you are so inclined, you can read it here. I have another one I want to do about General Hospital; I’d already started one months ago, but Anthony Geary’s death made it seem a bit more timely now than it was before (I hadn’t known they’d killed off Luke Spencer on the show, either, when he retired–in case he wanted to come back. Not that dying on camera on a soap means anything, of course.); I’d watched the show as a child with our babysitter, but got back into it when Mom started watching after we moved to Kansas–and I came back to the show when it was Number One rated and firing on all cylinders…which was before many people today were alive.

Another yikes, right?

Speaking of yikes, what the hell hath CBS wrought with the hiring of the ultimate mediocrity, Bari Weiss, to run their news department? That town hall with EriKa KirK was an absolute joke–and from everything I am seeing and hearing, their progress down the path to hell has no good intentions to pave their way. One thing that the last ten years has brought with it is the loss of any credibility that mainstream legacy media had; they’ve utterly abdicated and shat all over the legacy of good journalism and the First Amendment. They will never recover any credibility, and maybe that’s a good thing? I don’t know, but this all goes back to Reagan; today’s monster was conceived in his rotting brain, and that was where it began.

We did watch Murder in Monaco this weekend, which was quite interesting and fun; about the murder of Edouard Safra in Monaco in the late 1990s. I remember reading Dominick Dunne’s reporting on the case in Vanity Fair back in the day, and of course, Dunne suspected that the male nurse (arrested, tried, convicted) was being framed by the “black widow” Lily Safra, who had an earlier husband also die under very mysterious circumstances. This update on the case, with more revelations and more information on the aftermath that is very enlightening, is very interesting.

I also worked on some short stories yesterday, which was pretty awesome. I am trying to get some stories ready to submit by the end of the month, and so yesterday I worked on fleshing them out and making them stronger. The three I am working on, and hope to finish and submit, are “Even Katydids Dream,” “Come Sail Away,” and “No Security Provided.” I also have a historical story to polish for another anthology, and I think I am going to try to hit up both EQMM and AHMM in the new year with new stories. Very fun, indeed.

I also paged through Creole: The History and Legacy of Louisiana’s Free People of Color, from LSU Press, edited by Sybil Kein. There’s so much about Louisiana and New Orleans history and culture that I don’t know, and if I am going to write stories (and/or novels) set in New Orleans history, I need to understand it and have more knowledge of it; and this collection of historical essays about the Free People of Color, and how old Louisiana/New Orleans society was structured, will help me with that. (Although paging through it yesterday made me see some seriously archaic and racist language, which I suppose should be expected when reading about the past down here.)

I am looking forward to the holiday vacation, in all honesty; even if I don’t get as much done as I would like (which is very likely, since it always happens), but it’s also nice to have an easy time of it during the holiday season. And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Enjoy your Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow, on Christmas Eve Eve.

Remind me again, MAGA and Fox News, how Christmas is “under attack.”

Love Story

And here we are on Monday morning yet again, Constant Reader. I still feel fatigued this morning, which is not a good thing. My hips and legs are aching this morning, but at least it’s better than yesterday, when standing up and walking was actually super-painful. It’s not that bad this morning so far, but it’s going to make for a super long and awful day at work. I should probably stay home and try to rest, but I don’t have enough sick time to take an entire day off. Ah, well. I took next week off to go visit family, but that was canceled and I am now only going to Alabama for that weekend (Mom’s birthday), so all I have to do is make it through this week and then I can get some rest. The fatigue shouldn’t last much longer, should it? I am not fond of this new reality, in all honesty, but next week’s staycation will be nice. It’s been a long time since I’ve been home so long without having had surgery or being horribly sick. I hope to get a lot of reading, cleaning and some writing done that week, too. We’ll see how it all turns out, I suppose.

Yesterday was the peak of the reaction to the vaccine (I do not regret getting it, so miss me with anti-vax bullshit; reminder that I block for idiocy about public health), but I still am a bit worn out this morning. Glad it’s not as bad as yesterday, but it’s still not great. I was able to get some things done yesterday while Paul was at the office–but not as much as I would have wanted to as I was so fucking fatigued. Heavy heaving sigh. Clearly I need to get future COVID vaccinations late on Thursdays so I can recover from the fatigue reaction. This year’s flu shot about a month ago didn’t phase me in the least, whereas it usually makes me feverish for a day or so. Go figure. I am hoping it will wear off throughout today.

The Saints lost again to drop to 0-4…and haven’t been really competitive since their “moment of silence” for a Nazi. What was that phrase? “Not woke, go broke”? I also saw that Harrison Butker, the asshole kicker for the Chiefs, has now missed a field goal in every game this season…maybe he should take his tongue out of Josh Hawley’s butthole and focus on, I don’t know, kicking? It sure would suck for him to get fired and have to be a stay-at-home Dad, wouldn’t it? It’s almost like he cursed the team, isn’t it?

The good news is the book isn’t one tenth as terrible as I originally thought it was, so huzzah for that, right? I will definitely be diving back into it when I get home from the office today, and after I make a small grocery run on the way. I am hoping to get it all done before the staycation, so I can relax and get things done around the house before I leave for Alabama next week.

Not much to report this morning, is there? Maybe I should take the hint and head into the spice mines…see you tomorrow morning!

Southern Cross

Monday morning and I am up, drinking coffee and trying to get a move on for this exciting new week! I feel rested and well this morning, which is very pleasant, and looking forward to another new week. Yesterday was pleasant, and I spent most of the day reading or writing or thinking about work, which was nice. It’s always lovely to have a productive day, isn’t it? I find it to be frequently so, and also? Yesterday Scotty’s voice popped back into my head, which was lovely and also made me realize that was why I disliked the manuscript so much; it’s not written in his voice and we’re not really in his head at all and he is simply observing what’s happening without much of a reaction to it–and that sense of growing dread and unease I need the readers to experience isn’t really there. So, I basically unlocked the book at last, and am rather excited about it. Naturally, all I want to do now is work on it, but have to wait for free time to do it. Heavy sigh.

I didn’t watch the Saints game yesterday because I am still pissed about the moment of silence from the last game, and they got dog-walked by the Seahawks, didn’t they? Thoughts and prayers, Mrs. Benson, thoughts and prayers. I’m not sure if or when I will forgive the Saints for this slap in the face to the city of New Orleans (83% for Harris, Mrs. Benson, 83 fucking % for Harris), but this misunderstanding of the Saints fan base make-up (and those of the season ticket holders) is pretty fucking bad and makes me wonder if maybe she might be the gold-digging skank his blood relatives always thought she was. I for one am tired of being a fan of a team that regularly makes it clear they don’t give a shit about their non-white non-straight fans. I’m not at “throwing away all my Saints merch” stage yet, but pretty damned close.

I got deeper into reading The Hunting Wives as well over the weekend, and I am really enjoying it. As I’ve remarked numerous times already, it is very different from the TV show and so I am enjoying the book and how it is all coming together. I need to finish reading this before October–along with the other two current reads–so I can move on to the Halloween Horror Month reading. And yes, my enjoyment of the book means I am probably going to end up reading more of May Cobb’s canon. It’s always lovely to find a new writer you enjoy, but I have so many already I can’t keep up!

It was an interesting weekend for evil and corruption, wasn’t it? There was yesterday’s Nazi rally in Arizona, featuring all the right American fascists, but was a little taken aback by the shock some people have expressed about it; what the hell did you think it was going to be? Charlie Kirk is far more powerful to them as a symbol than he was when he was alive, and they’ve already started whitewashing things he said and did during his public, grifting life. I also loved that the ‘border Nazi” was exposed as corrupt and open to accepting bribes, and the fact that the regime told the FBI to drop the investigation? There really is no low they won’t stoop to, and as long as they remain racist and misogynist and homophobic their voters don’t care. Free speech is under attack, and don’t think any and all efforts to censor or ban “adult” material won’t be used as a pretext to ban queer work. I’m glad to see people are finally waking up to how rigged the Right and their soulless minions have made everything. Better late than never, I suppose, but this kind of insight was sorely needed in 2016 and 2024, thank you very much.

I don’t think the lady with the laugh y’all hated would have pressured a network into firing a talk show host who was critical of her, you know. But that laugh, amirite?

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines for the day, so have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader! I will see you tomorrow morning like clockwork!

Egyptian god Horus

Third Rate Romance

Monday and back to the office with me this morning. The Saints lost yesterday, but at least it was an exciting game. I slept well and feel good this morning, which is a good thing. I have to cover the clinic today instead of having an Admin day, and we’re book pretty solid, just as we were last Thursday and almost everyone showed up. It’s fine, I do love my job after all, but sometimes that’s a little draining. Ah, well, I can go home after work and chill out with my Sparky, who was cuddling with me this morning after the first tap of the snooze button. Bless his little heart, that’s not exactly helping me get up in the morning.

Yesterday, despite the Saints loss, was pretty good. I felt good when I got up in the morning–there was some fatigue still in my hips, but nothing horrifying–and while I didn’t do all the chores I wanted to get done, I did do some, and ran the dishwasher. I still have all those boxes from Costco to take out to the trash, but maybe I can get that done tonight after work. But while the Saints game was on, I actually wrote and read some more of The Hunting Wives, which is so different from the show but in a very interesting way. And the writing work I got done was good work; I could tell as I was working that this was good stuff, which is awesome. The short story is due today, and I just need to sand down some of the rougher edges on it before I turn it in, and then full focus on getting Scotty finished. I was actually thinking a lot about the Scotty yesterday, too, which is kind of cool. I feel like I’m getting back into the writing groove again, and once the Scotty is finished, I’d like to get a rough draft of Chlorine finished by the end of the year and perhaps start another novel before January 1. We’ll see, I guess.

We also didn’t watch the Emmys, primarily because we don’t care that much, choosing to watch The Thursday Murder Club, with its incredible cast, instead. I’ve not read the book it was based on, but have heard great things about it, and the movie was absolutely charming and very well done. I do hope there will be more of these…and then we watched this week’s Platonic before starting the new season of Only Murders in the Building. (I saw someone on social media this weekend say that they were convinced the best way to watch the show was to assume Steve Martin and Martin Short are playing a gay couple–which I can actually see, but alas not canon.)

As many of us saw many so-called allies to marginalized communities slip into their Klan robes over the course of the last week and weekend, outing themselves as, if not racists and homophobes, then are certainly okay with homophobia and racism and oppression…this morning I noticed on social media that there’s yet another furor in the m/m community; this time about those conservative women who idolized the late unlamented provocateur and everything he stood for…I generally no longer comment on this subgenre of literature as a general rule because I have nothing to gain by saying anything. I noticed back in the late aughts that there was an awful lot of homophobia and bigotry and fetishization in that community, and merely asking “why do you want to write about gay men when you hate and marginalize them?” unleashed a torrent of hatred on me…you know, typical straight white women who cannot stand being questioned about anything. One of the “authors” publicly claimed that I was “clearly jealous of their careers”–um, you’re neither Harlan Coben nor Stephen King nor Nora Roberts; why would I be jealous of you? The vitriol and hate and dogpiling by these horrible women ON ACTUAL GAY MEN with questions about them and their motivations…no, can’t possibly be homophobic, could they? They also would threaten us with voting against queer equality unless we knuckled under to their appropriation and creation of a fake public homosexuality. The stark refusal of any m/m authors to denounce homophobes within their own community back then was kind of a tell to me that I and other gay men are not only not safe in those communities, but that they would always close ranks if there was anything critical from an “outsider.”

I’ve never cared who writes what, to be honest. If you want to write about gay men falling in love and finding their happily ever after, go for it and I wish you well with your writing and I hope you do well with it, as I do every other author out there (until you prove yourself to be filth). But if you’re going to, and you don’t support queer equality (or vote against it because reasons), you really need to look inward and reexamine yourself and your motivations: why are you writing (or reading) about people you don’t support or care about? How is that any less of a betrayal than those of performers who make money off queer audiences but actually hate them and are transactional (cough Kristin Chenowith among others cough)? If you write about queer people we are always going to assume you’re safe.

Talk about a bait and switch. You’re contemptible– a deplorable, if you will.

And yes, we get angry when we are stabbed in the back. It’s also why I never completely trust “allies.”

But it is nice, in 2025, to see m/m authors calling the homophobia out. Thank you, m/m writing community, for standing with us in this moment.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, and I’ll be back in the morning.

Come Monday

Monday morning and I am not really awake yet. My legs still feel stiff and fatigued, and my brain is a bit cloudy, but I am back to the office today and thus need to wake myself up before it’s time to get in the car and go, you know? My coffee tastes great and it’s going down easily. Today is also the day the nurse comes by to teach me how to give myself an injection, and use the device I have to attach to myself for five minutes while it pumps the medication into me. Exciting times, am I right? I also am going to have to get up and go have blood drawn on Friday again, too. How many times have I had to have my skin pierced this year? Quite a fucking few. But at least I’ll have something to talk about tomorrow morning, won’t I? Heavy heaving sigh.

Monday mornings are always a struggle, you know, but this one is worse than my usual Monday. I am still fatigued–the legs are aching–and my mind is clearing, but there’s still some vestiges of Morpheus lagging inside my head. It’s going to be a struggle today, methinks, and I have to make some groceries on the way home, too. Sigh. I don’t think I’ll have any trouble sleeping this evening, and will probably be snoring in my chair by nine.

We did catch up on some of our shows last night after the US Open and the truly sad Saints game, watching another episode of Foundation, one of Peacemaker, and started the second half of Wednesday before calling it an evening so I could get ready for work and go to bed at an earlier time than I would have preferred. I also read more deeply into the manuscript, and I also need to start doing the tarot reading that tells the story in chapter headings.

I also had a lovely exchange on social media yesterday about some of the Broadway legends who’ve come to the Tennessee Williams Festival. I always forget that being Mrs. Festival has always enabled me to meet acting legends like Marian Seldes, Frances Sternhagen, and Zoe Caldwell, who were all absolutely lovely and fun to be around. I had a lovely conversation at dinner with Frances that I will always cherish as a memory, and of course, Marian was incredibly kind and generous, and Zoe was an absolute hoot. Sometime I’ll need to sit down and go through the old programs and remind myself of all the famous people I’ve met. (John Waters remains my favorite.)

I also became aware of an interesting story regarding the LSU Marching Band…a retired gentleman named Kent Broussard has joined the band! He’s sixty-six years old, and he had a dream that he wanted to play tuba in the marching band for LSU. So he bought a tuba a few years ago, took lessons, and enrolled in classes so he could audition for the band. He made it! Saturday was his first performance at a home game. Isn’t that cool?

I love being reminded that you’re never too old to pursue your dreams, don’t you?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, and I’ll be back with a full report on the injection tomorrow!