There’s a whole generation with a new explanation

I love this time of year in San Francisco. The sky is such a shade a blue it’s hard to imagine another metropolitan area in the world that is this beautiful. (Paris can be) Today was one of those days, beautiful blue skies, ambivalent clouds, warm sunshine and the things that make the City, the City. Like the crazy guy doing some sort of expressionistic ballet at Front and Market. The shoe shine guy laughing at the face I made trying to duck the dude. I wonder what happened to my old shoe shine guy Randall. He would always talk about the Giants and he loved him some Barry. Barry’s gone, so is Randall. And then there’s the guy with the sax at the BARF station. He probably doesn’t play it non-stop…oh hell maybe he does, but I always catch him playing “Take Five”. It just makes my evening.

dolphyngyrl just loves getting me wound up. Today’s offering. What’s funny is I had a rant formulating regarding the internet and how people feel that they can cross all sorts of lines on the internet because it’s what? Anonymous? It ain’t. Some ass clown on another blog responded to the British safety advert with the moonwalking gorilla by saying that he (and I say he because I really think it was said by a 14 year old boy with wet diapers) “laughed when cyclists died”. I thought “you little peckerwood, I ought to come to your house and make you change your stained underwear you’ve been wearing for a week”. But I never stop thinking there. I keep on thinking. I think about what makes people think it’s ok to say something like that. Would it be okay if his brother was hit by a car? Would you laugh then? How about if he were hit, but didn’t die? Maybe if he ended up being the dude with a drool cup, would he laugh then? And why be so mean and hateful? That always gets back to the same thing. It’s Reagan’s fault. This country didn’t used to be as mean as it is now, and it’s a result of the go go go 80’s, the lax regulations, the dialing back of government and the part where everybody takes whatever they can for themselves the rest of y’all be damned. (And the firing of the air traffic controllers) But that’s not how I was raised. Anyway, at the end of the day, a lot of folks rose up and defended all the people who rode and condemned those who act like asses, and good and right prevailed.

Little drips of title news, cut backs at Dinty Moore. I can’t even give those guys a bad time when you look at their executive compensation. I feel bad for the guys out on the street right now, things are tough. I highly recommend spending this time getting your paralegal cert if your book of business has up and died, or if you never had one in the first place. My other suggestion is to look at being an asset manager for one of the lenders who are taking a bath in their own blood right now.

Speaking of baths. When Rita is done drinking water the house looks like a bird bath.

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Then she tracks it through the house, luckily, she’s heading out the door which is behind the photojournalist.

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Then her skinny butt can be found on the wrong side of the new half fence hunting for squirrels.

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But at the end of the day, no matter what a punk she is to Beauregard, he still acquiesces to her female demands…(I’m cold.)

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They’re both currently playing alligator jaw in the front room. I’ll save y’all pictures of that, it’s kind of scary for the uninitiated.

To the Lord, praises be, it’s time for dinner now let’s go eat

Rita’s new diet has been going on for a week now. She gets a cup of food in the morning with kefir on it, a cup in the evening with the special mixture my Dad made (raw chicken, raw ground chuck, raw eggs, macaroni, cheese, spinach and potatoes) and then another cup at 9pm with a satin ball mixed in. She thinks it’s peachy. Beauregard thinks she’s a little bitch because she gets a 3rd meal he doesn’t. He’s been a little attitudinal about it all. The biggest thing is that he will bare his teeth in the evening if she tries to get between him and me. In truth, she doesn’t care, she’ll just jump up on the other side and does. In his world it’s like fighting over the Suez Canal. She’s out running right now, (running off whatever I’ve fed her so far today) and he’s sleeping in my bed on my pillow. He’s not supposed to sleep on my pillow, but that’s his way of letting me know he’s number one and don’t anyone forget it. I took him on a special car ride yesterday without her. That helped, but I needed to take her on a walk without him and that didn’t help. When I take my long walk in the evening there are lots of other dogs out and he chose to jaw with a golden retriever the other night. Not cool. Then she joined in and I really don’t want to be totally perceived as the crazy bitch with the insane attack dogs in the neighborhood. A healthy respect is okay with me, but a bad reputation, not so much. So Rita and I took off for a 3 mile walk/jog/sometimes run a little yesterday. The problem with this neighborhood is traffic coupled with the lack of sidewalks. So I plotted a path on Map My Run that I thought would have sidewalks, but I got out to Ygnacio and rut roh, no sidewalks. People drive like 65 out there, so we turned and came back. Left our mileage at 2.64, close enough for government work. I’m still hacking. Not as bad as it was, but still got the quack going on. I also got about an hour on the bike yesterday. It felt good to go fast. Afterwards, I started filling in the graves in the back yard. I mixed compost in with the soil and raked and raked and raked. Pulled out the stones as they showed their little faces. The first one is about half full, my back was flirting with collapse, so I quit. It’s damned cold this morning so I’m glad I didn’t put little seeds out there to get this cold yesterday. Hopefully, I’ll have them in the ground by week’s end….especially since tomorrow is April!

The Wine Dog is Drinking

Rombauer 2005 Zinfandel. Life is just good. I put some of that jerk marinade on a pork chop and grilled it up. Yeah, like that.