I am 9/10ths of the way through Henry James' *The Ambassadors* and will finish it tomorrow if I don't today so the burden of honoring a promise to living and dead former English professors and current and past friends will be honored, and get this, I will read another, though James' misuse of pronouns (any *she* referred to is not necessary the one I was taught it should be - I can only think this is intentionally muddying) is annoying as fuck. More signs of our coming apocalypse - it's closer and coming faster than most of yinz think, yo - embedded, along with the rest of the monologue (whether this gag is temporary or permanent until it isn't TBD) in the grid. Tropical Storm Bertha? Sweet, this will be in my head the next few days
Also too, three days from today is this shitty blog's domain renewal date, nothing has changed payment-wise at my end and though the blogging platform continues self-enshittification apace I expect them to take my money and renew me another year, but if I'm not here Saturday.... Hey! Lambchop has released a third song from upcoming album *Punching the Clown,* full album drops a month from yesterday
Strange world that my yodels haven't changed but more colleagues and friends and family members no longer think I'm so batshit crazy. Required gag: when my daughter is my age it will be 2059, what world?
Shitlords are happy to waste trillions of dollars on the Iran War if it helps speed up the dismantling of Social Security and Medicare and every fucking thing in the safety net plus the theft of every peasants retirement funds, I said to my ex-polisci professor and friendly acquaintance and for the third time in a row after calling me smart but batshit crazy for decades he said I'm probably right
Among the dead I cannot find you. Let me rest here a minute beneath these six leaves, crippled tree slightly taller than I am in a Manhattan sidewalk like a streetlamp in a forest where I'm lost.
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