Blue for you At age 16 Miller had his first methadrine and heroin mix injection. He was shaking with fear before the dealer, who offered to do the injection for him, actually ran the liquid out of the syringe into his arm. For a few seconds, Miller felt nothing other than a natural sense of relief that the shot had come off without a hitch. In fact, he was so scared that when the dealer 'fixed' him, he didn't feel the needle pierce his skin and penetrate his vein. He was stunned when the dealer said, "OK, you can open your eyes now. I'm done."
Those few seconds were shortlived because suddenly the drug mixture blossomed in his brain and every nerve in his body began firing skyrockets through his skeletal structure. His muscles immediately spasmed for two twitches and then let go completely. He felt like he was falling, which in fact he was; falling right off the high-back chair in the filthy kitchen in Philadelphia where this whole story took place. Craig, the dealer, grabbed his arm and said "Whoa there pardner. You all right?"
Miller's head seemed to weigh about 200 pounds and leaned to the right, lolling on his shoulder. He smiled involuntarily and drooled a bit, and answered, "Yea man. I'm jussss fine." His body felt like it was filled with warm, soothing electrical discharges that were lighting up every cell from head to toe. He felt, in short, fantastic! Craig smiled and said, "Yea, you're fine. Why don't you just sit here a minute then come on in the living room with everyone else, OK." And he left.
Miller sat cockeyed and sideways, leaning on the kitchen wall, looking at the window through which he could see snow falling in heavy, big flakes, fluttering through the streetlight outside - which was exactly at Miller's eye-level since the apartment was on the fourth floor - and he began to laugh for no reason at all. He just felt so damn good! He literally came in his pants - "Wow! I just had an orgasm," he said aloud but softly. Music wafted into his ears and he could hear people talking and laughing in the other room so he put his hands on the tabletop and then paused. He looked at the tiny red dot marking the spot where the needle had slid into his vein and wondered, "Man, what if I caught something?" Then he began laughing again, deep, rib-shaking bellly-laughs.
He was still laughing when he entered the living room where about 10 or 12 people, young men and women, were lying on the floor, some on top of pillows, some on a mattress that served as Craig's couch, some just lying on their backs on the hardwood floor, staring silently at the ceiling and humming along with the George Harrison song playing on the record player. "There's a fog upon L.A. And my friends have lost their way. They'll be over soon they said. And they've lost themselves instead ... ." the song droned and sparkled in the air.
When Miller sat down in front of a woman about 20 years old and blessed with huge green eyes and brown hair, he smiled as he looked into those two gleaming pools and said quite clearly, "My god, you're beautiful. I love you!"
His body was in perpetual orgasm it seemed to Miller. Waves and whirls of mixed sensations flowed through him like tidal movements, coursing up and down his spine and outward through his limbs. The top of his skull was completely numb and, in his mind's eye, a stream of purple gel flowed upward from his brain, splashing on the ceiling and coating the surface, moving outward from its strike-point in all directions toward the walls. This was 'real.' This was like nothing he had ever imagined. This was 'high,' and he had never been high like this. The sound waves from the record player appeared like rainbow colors, streaming out and sliding across the faces of everyone. The two dozen or so candles lit in the room had haloes expanding outward from the flame and those haloes held his attention for a good 20 minutes before he turned his head and found himself falling into those bright, green eyes again. "God, I love you," he repeated. The woman just smiled and answered, "You're stoned, man. Just sit back and dig it, OK. Besides, my old man is jealous and you don't want to have him on your ass."
The 'old man' in question was sitting directly behind the goddess, in fact, her head was resting on his chest, and his eyes were not so beautiful. In fact, his eyes conveyed a sense of dread and doom unlike anything Miller had ever felt before, which put him immediately in a paranoid state. Miller closed his eyes so he couldn't see the demonic face the leered at him over the shoulder of the woman who had stolen his soul the millisecond he had laid eyes on her. Somewhere in the back of his unhinged mind, Miller 'knew' he'd better move to another place in the room. He definitely wasn't going anywhere for a while. Like the woman said, he was stoned. So stoned, in fact, that he began to feel like he had left his body and was floating through the wall and out into the snow-filled night.
This was 1968 and night's like that were common in expensive flats, high-rise apartments, row houses and townhouses all over the City of Brotherly Love that spring and summer. The rich, the poor and everyone in-between were spacing out on 'speedballs,' ganja, crystal meth, China white and LSD. Some drug cocktails were guaranteed to produce euphoria. Some were guaranteed to spin one's psyche out into the cosmos where it might end up in a carnival sideshow or down inside a nightmare from which there was no escape. And it was the way it was.
Now, I'm 52 (only just) and I'm sitting here watching "Blackhawk Down" over my shoulder as I type these words (one of my all-time favorite flicks). My back aches, I feel somber and depressed and it's no big deal. Tomorrow the sun comes up and another day unfolds and who can say what happens?
Perhaps we'll be at war in Iraq and our soldiers will be fighting for their lives. Perhaps Saddam will be knocked off by one of his loyalist guards or maybe he'll pack bags and catch a flight to Saint Croix for a long-term vacation. One thing is sure. Big Bush '41 has his boots and spurs on and he's loaded for bear, and we're going to war - no doubt about it. It's just a matter of when, and for that I'm sad.
So, check out the former Vermont governor's speech by following the link below. Dean may be the Democrat's best hope for the next presidential race. Although he's perhaps too outspoken for his own good, he strikes me as honest, intelligent and, most importantly, not afraid to challenge the administration's position toward Iraq. Today he said that North Korea was a much greater threat than Iraq. True.
Could this guy be the next president?

My own personal hell ...Just wanted to say, I hope when we bomb the daylights out of Iraq we don't spark a cascade of warfare that, like a nuclear reaction, leads to WWIII. I don't believe Bush '43 could handle the consequences should that occur. So good luck to you, me and us all. If the bombs fly in Baghdad (is there any doubt?), we could see a lot of activity of the militaristic type in neighboring countries, and if that happens it could spill over into Europe and, ultimately, the U.S.
I wonder how the 'Bush hawks' will feel when a mushroom cloud rises over D.C.? This Iraq scam - and that's what I think it its, I think I've made myself clear in that regard - just isn't worth the lives of our soldiers, not to mention the lives of innocent Iraqis who Bush says we want to save from a despot. So we'll kill them to save them? Hmmm. That's some logic!
Nevertheless, I wonder how many rotations this little ball of mud has remaining in its turns around the sun? That's the kind of thought I have when I'm feeling isolated and alone - which, obviously, I am at the moment.
But what the hell. It's Friday and I just got paid for an honest two-weeks worth of backbreaking labor (well, back-aching labor anyway) and my debtors will be pleased to know that the check's in the mail. What more could one ask. Ugh! I find it so discouraging to realize that, at age 52 the best I've been able to manage is the status of working poor. I'm sure my son, Justin, who I haven't seen in more than 20 years, is making three times the money I make (I hope so ...) and living a life of joyous productivity. I, on the other hand, make barely enough to pay my bills and keep gas in the car, while my teeth fall out, my stomach rots and my liver is shriveling as I speak. C'est la vie, as our froggy friends would say. Life goes on, and so shall I.
Congrats to my friend Mike, who revealed a few days ago that he and his betrothed are 'with child.' Beautiful!
I just hope there's a world to enter when it comes time for the little one to make his/her debut.
What is the System of Down? Nonsense is the political-think of the day. And what is going on with all these new laws that erode the right to privacy? I feel like I'm getting a proctoscope exam when I walk out the door lately. Am I paranoid? Hell yes! Am I silly to think the government is invading my privacy? I think not.
Speaking of government, here's a little tidbit that might amuse.
The REAL inside dope on what's happening in D.C. (sort of)
Time is a lie!Time to go time to go time to go to time go to. I'm out of mind and body - weird, uh? Well, this happens often. Time stops because it never began except in the minds of weaklings. The feudal lords of yesterday still try to lay claim to their inheritance and so they shall have it. Rubble, death and destruction is their legacy, their inheritance. And me.
Well, I'm out of here - off to another galaxy to find a world where nothing hurts, where bodies never sicken and minds are always clear. Good-bye.
Countdown to war3 March 2003 - Monday. Thankfully, today is a day off from work. Unfortunately, I told D that I'd help her with some yard work and I've completely let that promise fall by the wayside. But she hasn't called me and my repeated attempts (two) to reach her have failed, dammit.
I'm glad, in some respects, to have such small problems. The world is in war mode and I feel pretty safe here in the little Texas town I live in, where dust storms, tornadoes and bigotry is the most disastrous list of events on the SOP operation.
But France's explanation for its opposition to the U.S.'s stance vis a' vis war with Iraq was nicely summarized for me by one of France's ministers on a "60 Minutes" broadcast. France insists, according to the minister, that not all options have been tried yet and, therefore, it's too early to launch an "adventure" in Iraq simply because Bush-O-Rama has nightsweats about Saddam Hussein. I think one bullet, one kill in this case would be the most sensible avenue. Or, as one of my co-workers suggested a few nights ago, perhaps we should agree to a debate between Saddam and the Bushmeister and then escalate to full-contact Greco-Roman wrestling - winner take all. I think it could be a worldwide television event and the ratings would go through the roof! I mean, seriously, wouldn't YOU watch our president wrestle a dictator he evidently despises? It would be the first time in history that a major conflict was resolved by two men, mano y mano, in a cage match with no holds barred, trying to rip off one another's ears, noses, gouging out an eye and, ultimately, killing the opponent to win. Wow! The networds would drool for this one.
And, I dare say, the American public would be fixated, mesmerized by the event. Hell, we could make it a military USO entertainment event for that matter. "Bush vs Hussein in a fight to the death. See it here on the Armed Forces Services Network."
Cool! Both men, climbing into the ring wearing only a jockstrap (bearing the colors of each's nation, of course), and tearing at each other during the featured 3-minute rounds until a winner is established by the aforementioned criterion.
I wonder if Bush would have the cojones to do it? It certainly would show a certain flair, and it would save many lives on both sides (not that I'm too concerned with Iraqi deaths but come on, I do like babies and I don't think innocent people - children or adults - should be blown apart).
AND, as an added incentive, the program would stimulate the economy. Hell, the commercial rights alone could pump billions of dollars into the system. Not to mention the T-shirt consortiums, dolls and full-package action figures.
So what do you say Mr. president? Willing to toe-to-toe with your avowed enemy for the sake of American lives? Hell, even if you get your butt kicked, we could still go to plan B and have Colin Powell wrestle him next. It could be the media coup of the century!
Kidding aside, I still haven't heard a rationale argument - other than the U.N. Security Council's 1441 (or whatever the document is called ...) resolution that Saddam signed off on 12 years ago and still hasn't adhered to even as I 'speak.' The French (slimy frogs) argue that the inspections are producing results and, therefore, should be allowed to continue as long as there's progress. But the U.S. administration's position is, it appears, time has run out and it's butt-kickin' time - not later, but RIGHT NOW! What did happen to Bush's 'compassionate conservatism?' With the medical system in near-ruin, and the educational system bordering doomland (check the facts ...), why does Bush pick this particular period in time to make Iraq a world issue? I still really do not get it.
And very suave French ambassador said that 90 percent of the world's population (meaning those polled by various polling services) oppose war at this juncture. So what is up with this rush to warfare? I still suspect it's got something to do with the son avenging the father (remember, Saddam did try to have Bush 41 "hit"). But that's just suspicion.
I respect certain of the administration's members (Colin Powell, to an extent) but I also suspect that Congress is acting like a flock of sheep, approving the most outrageous mandates by Bush without even reading the text of his proposals. It's absurd that the Congress passed, without public hearings and with more than 90 percent of them admittedly having not read the tome, the "Homeland Security Act."
Does it put the Constitutional guarantees that make America so unique. You bet it does. But most congressional members (a bit shame-faced) admit that they didn't read the clauses, articles or paragraphs within the bill. They simply signed off on it blindly.
Now I don't see that as representative government. And I'm not the only one. Nat Hentoff, who appeared on Bill Moyers' program "Now" this past weekend argued eloquently (I thought) against several of the articles contained in this sweeping police-powers document. Hentoff, certainly not a bleeding-heart liberal, is a scholar of civic rights and the Bill of Rights and he said that Bush's administration is doing things never before done in this country - or at least they're planning to.
And the vast majority of Americans blindly support the actions of a few out of fear, not out of informed consent. The media, for the most part, has dropped the ball and one has to dig deep to find any sort of analysis concerning the security act. It should be a process of public debates, congressional hearings and close examination by the nation's arbiters of congressional limits - albeit the Supreme Court. But that's not what's happening. And I find it disturbing, to say the least.
But that's just my opinion, for what it's worth.

Salvo 909: The world spins out of control into the sun It's Sunday, 2 March 2003 and I'm just fooling around here. Trying some HTML code to see what comes out.
I've had a miserable week but only in the sense that it was stressful, exhausting and laughable all at the same time. And out there, among the stars, beings are moving toward us, inexorably traveling the mind-boggling distances to pay us a visit - although their 'harmonic' dimension is out of synch with ours. What's harmonic dimensional sync? Damned if I know, but it's real. It's like a tuning fork for phyical form; instead of producing sound, harmonic dimensional sync produces physical form that vibrates according to the dimensional shift that form exists within. So, naturally, when these beings appear, only those of us whose minds are activated by more than the usual less-than-10 percent and are sensitive to the harmonic vibrational levels that they exist inside of are able to see 'them.' There goes one now. Missed it, huh?
Well, it takes a certain destiny to become a space-time continuum traveler. Like Vonnegut's 'inclastulated infuntibulated man' only some humans are born with the correct 'resonance' in their brainwaves to pick up this 'stuff.' To actually see these beings that are penetrating earth's atmosphere and moving among us everyday.
Unsual bunch, they are, umhmmm. Kind of like that guy in "Swingblade" only more cornpone in the way they speak. "Yup, ummhmm. I got me one of them TV thingies and it spreads my brain cells apart in a real strange way." Like that, see?
So it's Sunday and I've spent the day sleeping (as promised) and laying about scratching the random itch here and there.
Bush 43 is really at a crossroad now (though I doubt he's aware of it) and I don't think there's any doubt about which road he'll take relative to Iraq. It's war we want (at least that's what the administration tells us) so it's war we'll have. Probably in March - probably next week, soon as the U.N. council rejects the Bush resolution through France's (those frogs) veto - probably Russia's too.
So the drumbeat is gaining in pace, and the war dance is in full frenzy now. God help the innocents in Iraq who are about to die for the 'good' of our nation. Poor bastards. They won't know what hit them, and that's a small blessing, I suppose. But the children of the dead will rise up against us and in not too many years - just mark my words. World War III is in the making right now. And Bushmeister, the Bushorama is the instigator. His historical footnote will be as the first American dictator (in action if not in name) and the progenitor of the WW III. What a drag.
So I'm going to get online and write my congressperson and the prez and express my doubts about the so-called al-Qaida link from Saddam back to that despicable terror group. Why aren't we spending the money we're investing in our military buildup against Iraq on finding Osama? He's the perp who brought down the World Trade Centers and he's the one we seem to have forgotten. What's up with that, I wonder? But watch out! Soon as we hit Iraq there will be conflagration within the U.S. borders and every man, woman and child who dies as result of it can be laid at the feet of Bush 43, far as I'm concerned. What is this rush to war REALLY about? Ask yourself.


2 March 2003/Saturday - I'm sitting here at work waiting for a 'dummy' to land in the basket, so,with time to kill I thought I'd try and enter a blank stare or SOMETHING on this page. I keep having to fiddle with the settings to get one or the other of my blog sites to accept additional text, but we seem to be flaming brightly today! Hooray! And I'm seeing red, red, red.
I just got word that one of the backshop girls is ticked off because I'm putting photos on my proof pages before she has a chance to process them CORRECTLY. Silly, really. I am processing them correctly, it's just that she's a photographer and feels like I'm stomping on her turf - at least that's what I think. At any rate, the simple solution is to go back and ask her (with tail appropriately between hindquarters) to "please" show me how to do it RIGHT. ... Such crap! The neo-fascists muck we have to deal with daily up here is becoming intolerable to me. Everyone a king/queen in her/his own right - and no one is right except the king or queen. And so it goes ....
Ah well. It's kind of muggy-warm here today, a BiG change from the blast of frigid air we got a few days ago. Man, it was 18 degrees with a windchill of 7-below just four nights ago. The weather in these parts is as predictable as a tornado - which is to say, it isn't.
Ain't this boring? Yea, I think I agree so I'll go do my duty and try to survive another night in this hellhole. Tomorrow I sleep. Gloriously, without interruption (if I'm lucky).
My birthday was a bust, far as I'm concerned. Here my little ego was telling me that when I arrived at my girlfriend's house last night there'd be a cake, gifts, a big smile, hug and kiss waiting for me. BUT NOOOOOO. When I got there I was perfunctorily told to wait in the chilly, dank garage or go home. Her teenage daughter had just broken up with her beau and it was a MAJOR CRISIS!!!
And so I waited, after I delivered three late DVDs to Blockbuster, slinking away shamefacedly and feeling lower than whale shit for my error in chronological functioning. God, I hate paying late fees, especially when the flicks I've rented SUCK DONKEY CHODE! But pay I must if I'm to maintain my standing in the community and be given the inalienable right to spend money at Blockbuster, Hastings or PFred's Funky Film Pfhaktory. Alas, I a bad citizen. I have not kept up my end of the bargain when it comes to being responsible for looking out for the other guy, so to speak. And so, I pay and pay and pay all day. Until it hurts. And believe me, it hurts.
Money is a commodity that's as scarce as hen's teeth in my pockets. I've forgotten whose face is on a $20 bill since most of my paycheck is deposited and promptly mailed to my many unfriendly creditors. I sometimes feel as though I'm in a Dickenson novel; you know, smudge pots besmirching the air, hair and clothing of everyone downwind, and a pall of malaise hanging like a curtain over every face in the humorless streets.
Oops. Time to work. Got to go. May the force be with you. May the wind be ever at your back, and may your cup runneth over.
28 FEB. 2003/Friday - I am flabbergasted by the blind ignorance that leads this nation's House. The prime example is the vote yesterday to ban human cloning for RESEARCH. The idiots we've elected to represent US (who are we?) seem to be deaf, dumb and blind! I doubt there's one true research scientist in the world who would say that this law is sensible, moral or even logical, let alone 'good.' The material used in human cloning RESEARCH (remember that word, OK) is just stuff - cells - it's not a viable embryo, nor will it ever be. It's an ovum that contains no genetic material and, therefore, no program to tell it what to become - whether human, lizard or snail - and scientists working on the problems related to Alzheimer's, Parkinson's and diabetes, to name but a few neurological disorders, use this 'stuff' to manipulate specific cell structures that mimic, for example, the nervous system, or certain areas of the brain where signals, in the case of Parkinson's patients, go haywire and the hope of the current cloning research (ooh, it's spooky magic ...) is that those cells can be replaced or reactivated, if you will, to function correctly. To cut off an avenue of science that holds out hope for a cure to diseases as insidious as Alzheimer's or Parkinson's is immoral, far as I'm concerned.
So OK, there are some people who really think that human cloning, even in the aforementioned research objectives, is messing with 'God's plan,' whatever the hell that is. What would these same people do, I wonder, if we took away everything man-made from them - after all, it wasn't created by God? Let them figure out how to survive in this world without science and human ingenuity. I believe they would be reduced to the level of monkeys, picking fleas off each others' asses and gnawing on tree bark. Perhaps, in fact, that's a good idea because it would reduce their lifespan considerably and the rest of the world could move forward without encumbrances superstitious nit-wits place upon US.
And if you count yourself among those high-minded congresspersons (how's that for politically correct???) who crowed loud and proud yesterday because of the vote to ban scientific advances, well, up yours pardner. Go live in a cave and give me your house, OK. I could use a nice place to live and I don't mind that it's man-made.
The Reagan residue named Bush, who's supposed to represent the best interest of the majority of US, is totally off the mark with his support for this kind of legislation, in my humble opinion. Bush is ruining this nation's economy, its sense of moral direction, and its sense of solidarity. Divide and conquer, my friend. It's as old as warfare itself and Bush and his ilk have learned that lesson well. So take note, our president is a knucklehead! He's making decisions that are putting the world in peril, and I don't mean his stance toward Saddam Hussein. I mean his general ineptititude when it comes to communication with other world powers. Bush is following the path of 'my way or the highway,' and it's so sophomoric and mean-spirited. His brand of "compassionate conservatism" is going to kill thousands of old folks and infants because Medicare and Medicaid are being, as I type these words, ripped apart. The medical system is swirling in the toilet and Bush is pulling the plunger by giving over control of medicine to insurance companies - not doctors or researchers. Money is a commodity and how it's used is up to the owner - and Bush's agenda for the national bank account is clear. Spend on weapons and give more to the rich - his pals. The education president? You're kidding, right? Take a look at what's happening to the education system and ask yourself, what's going on here? Look at the economy and ask the same. Look at your own circumstances and take a moment to reflect on this: Are you better off today because Bush is president? It's basic stuff, but it does require one to think (sorry).

27 Feb. Thursday: Not much to say except Happy Birthday to me! I'll be late for work as it is since I have to take an alternate route to avoid this cop who stops me - it seems - every chance he gets - bastard!
So I'm off to my labors.
Hope your day is swell!
Ah, Wednesday. 26 Feb. 2003. Another day in the life of a yellow rat-bastard! Hey ho, where do you go, when you don't want no one to know? Sorry, can't say.
Only have a few moments so I'll simply say, I just learned my friend Mike and his wife are pregnant (of course, only she is pregnant - idiot ..) and I'm happy for them. If ever there was a miracle in my life it was watching, seeing, smelling and feeling the birth of my son and daughter - three years apart. But the only way to describe the experience, the only word that comes to mind is 'holy.' Yea, that's what it felt like. Holy. Think about that word for a moment and try to conjure some recognition of its meaning. It encompasses so many unknown realities, so much mystery and, yet, it's so familiar, ain't it? Well, there it is.
And by the way, since my friend Jeff saw fit to post a link to one of my blogs on his, I'll return the favor.
Check it out.
Jeff's interspatial circus
Meantime, live long and prosper. Somebody should.

Bouncing back and forth between blogs because I seem to hit a glass ceiling with the amount of text I can put on a blog post, and I haven't figured out how to "fix" the problem yet. I know it's something to do with the way I'm archiving (or not) but, well, who knows?
I'm stuck between two crazy women today - my girlfriend and her mother - and it's a no-win situation for me. I have a terrible feeling in my gut that both of them are going to sink a knife (metaphoric or actual) in my back before the evening ends. It's too personal to go into but suffice it to say I got my nose stuck under a tent that I should have stayed out of and now the gleaming, sharp-edged blade of female angst hovers above. The best intentions seem to lead to crises and punishment. So, needless to say, my day off has become a bit edgy. Maybe some food will help.
I know there's some irony in what's going on around me today - I wish I'd gone to a flick like I'd planned - but I fail to see it just now. I only know I'm sitting here wishing that I'd kept my mouth shut to BOTH of them. Aaargh! I got sucked into a blackhole of paranoia and hurt feelings and, trying my utmost to soothe, I managed to open the gates of hell. HELP! My foot's in my mouth and I can't eat my meal.
Fuggit. I'm just going to lay back, watch whatever happens to be on the tube for a bit, and pray that the situation flows smoothly into resolution without my involvement. I just want to have a nice evening with D, but unless things grow much more harmonious than they've been the previous four hours or so, it appears I'm in for a long, lonely evening.
And so it goes.

22 Feb. 2003/Saturday: Another night of work ahead and my whole body is aching from sitting in front of computer screen for hours in a deformed chair at an odd angle. My back is crackling with pain and my spine aches. My shoulders are taut with compressed tension and I feel like I've been blasted out of cannon into a brick wall.
But I am 'home' for now, so I'm going to try and relax a few minutes - just a few minutes. One of the problems with living in America today is, one has to disregard ailments and illness and go to work, no matter what. It's simply not feasible to miss work when your bills exceed your income and juggling payments is the best you can do to keep the wolves from the door. And so we go. Sick and getting sicker, falling apart and crumbling around the edges, off we go to work for our daily bread. It's simply ridiculous, ludicrous and sad to think that, in the richest nation in the world, people have to literally kill themselves to eat.
But there it is.
Have a nice day :)-

21 Feb. 2003:
I just had an "ah-hah" moment! I figured out how I can continue adding text (or whatever) to what appeared to be a blocked Blog. Hey, I'm new to this stuff so give me a break, OK. I simply had to click on the correct 'edit' link (the one nearest the top). Duh ... .
So I'm back online at this site so, kiddies, anyone stumbling across this fermenting muck can expect to see new and unusual thoughts, ideas and phrases, like: "Trunchcat had a bad night. He got a fish bone lodged in his throat and no one understood his panicked "meow." But fear not, since a furrball also was scheduled to be puked up at just the exact moment he began choking, his frazzled life was saved." Ah, nature. What a wondrous system. What a strange and beautiful world!
It's payday - heyheyhey - and my debtors will be glad to gobble up my paycheck.
So, here are my favorite TV shows: "Kingpin," a violent, gritty story of a drug cartel and its family members; "The Daily Show," an irreverant look at the day's news; "Frontline," PBS's investigative reportage program (last night's show probed the reason for Bush '43's fixation on Iraq); "ER," still has an edge; "South Park," pure salacious humor with a bit of wry wit thrown in; "Oz," sadly in its last season - not for the faint of heart; "Third Watch," a confluence of law enforcement, firefighters and EMS personnel struggling with life from their unique perspectives; and, of course, "West Wing," one of the best show on TV, in my humble opinion.
Well, it's time for me to shake off the grogginess and defog my brain so I can begin the process of engaging the day.
Live long and prosper.
Why can't I add text to this blog I wonder? It's giving me upset stomach!