Potpourri

American Idol - To the delight of any “legitimate” fan of A.I. (which I am not), that 17-year old from Washington who looks like a really cute guy or a really ugly chick with bad hair in need of a tube of Nair has been voted off. I don’t want to mention his name here and add another minute to his “15 minutes” that has incredulously been extended to about half an hour!

Virginia Tech Tragedy - Self-made tapes from that smudge of human excrement who snuffed out the lives of 32 innocent people surfaced yesterday. Suffice to say after seeing some of that footage that this ass-wipe will be a study in evil for years to come. Freddy, Jason, and Mike ain’t got nothing on him. This wasn’t a movie. The carnage he perpetrated real. The heartbreak he caused forever. His place in Hell eternal.

The Weather - Will we have a year around these parts similar to last? Remember last Spring in the S.J. Valley? A late splurge of Spring wetness causing us all to say, “Wow, we needed that...but enough is enough” followed by a June in the 100’s causing us all to say, “Holy shit...is the A/C working or what?” There hasn’t been a lot of rain lately, but it has been cold, windy, and Fall-like. Spring around here is supposed to be nice, mild, open the doors and windows, turn off the heater for six months, clean the garage, clean the BBQ, get out the tanning gel and shorts kind of weather. Last year: 70’s one month, 100’s the next. How about at least a few weeks in the 80’s God! Or did we already have that in March?

Itchycoo Park - This is one our generation’s one-hit-pop-wonder tunes from the iconic 60’s. Sung by a group called Small Faces somewhere around 1967, it was Banned in Boston! Why? Because of a line or two in the song about ditching school and getting high. “You can miss out school...what do we do there...we’ll get high...we’ll touch the sky...” OMG! How subversive can one song be? Compared to the wordage in a lot of music today, Itchycoo Park could be played in Sunday school. It’s all too beautiful!

Lost - I’m embarrassed to say (again) that I am a fan of that disjointed television serial that can’t tell its ass from a hole in ground. Why am I embarrassed? Because I sleep through every frickin’ episode! That’s why. Loretta can’t miss it, though her devotion wanes as well...transcending to a Lost-induced nap about halfway through. I’ve never really understood what the writers and producers were trying to say, apparently they don’t either since they seem to subscribe to the Indian Jones method of plot development, “What are you going to do next Indy?”...”I don’t know...I making this stuff up as I go!”. In my case, I think I just have a crush on the character sometimes known as “Freckles”...what a doll!

Classified Ad - I am selling something very close to my heart. If there is anyone out there who can't seem to gain weight, forget all those protein shakes and counseling. I'll sell you my extra fat, something I have managed to accumulate a lot of this past Winter. Were talking at least 25 pounds of the stuff! I cut my finger the other day and gravy, ice cream, bourbon, and bacon fat came out...not blood! If no one wants this extra blubber, it's just going to go to waste as I lose weight. Poof...gone! Call 1-800-FAT-SLOB for more information.

Peace.