Monday,
March 10, 2008

Gubernatorial follies

Well, the news wires seem to be hopping about NY Gov. Eliot Spitzer being associated with prostitution. Someone on SFF.net mentioned this in her newsgroup, and added:

"According to the AP, Gov. Eliot Spitzer has told senior advisers that he had been involved in a prostitution ring, The New York Times reported Monday, citing an anonymous top administration official. Spitzer, who is married with three daughters, was scheduled to make an announcement Monday afternoon. Spitzer officials wouldn't immediately comment on the story."

The top rate was $5,500 per hour.

I just couldn't resist. I mean, come on -- you know how my mind works. So I replied:

Wow. Spitzer must know some Tijuana specialties to make that sort of cash.

I was promptly WHAPPED with the Salmon of Correction. I blame it all on HBO running Clerks II last night (and if you've ever seen the movie, you know exactly which scene I'm referencing).

It's nice to be appreciated, part deux

My sister Stacy (the wind beneath my wings, my hero, my best friend, the wacky broad who keeps posting weird shit in my guestbook, yadda yadda...) has had some...interesting...things happen to her lately, so I called her up today in order to get the straight dope and basically give her a chance to vent.

A tangent -- I've been encouraging her to write a book about the stuff she's been doing at my niece and nephew's school; she's got a ton of funny and heartwarming stories, and I think a book about them could really be popular. So in mid-vent she said, "You know, you've been writing all these years, and I never really thought about what you've been doing until I started working on the book -- man, writing is hard."

I admit it, I had a hosanna moment. When you spend decades doing something that can seem like a hobby at best and a waste of time at worst, it's nice when your nearest and dearest realize that yeah, you're not just farting around.

But back to Stacy -- I said yep, writing is hard, and it takes skill and practice to tell a good story, but if she keeps at it she'd have one helluva book. And she will, and by God the dedication better be "to Melanie, who is the wind beneath my wings..."

You can tell spring has sprung

Especially here in the clavicle of Texas, because the birds are out in force and the Boyz are going apeshit (or would that be "catshit" in their case?) trying to get onto window ledges and peer at the Hereditary Foe taunting them from the nearby trees.

Which wouldn't be a problem, except that we have miniblinds that are often pulled all the way down to the window ledge level, impeding access to the Prime Viewing Post. And JJ, who is a smart cat in many ways but sorta dumb when it comes to birds, will use brute force by jumping at the gap between the blinds and the window frame, hoping to land on the ledge. Despite the fact that he's a big ol' cat, this only works part of the time, and because he's a big ol' cat the failures result in very loud rattling noises that startle the crap out of me and sections of miniblind bent into a 90° angle from him trying to wedge his tubby frame past them.

Horked-upon carpets, bent miniblinds, clawed covers -- having cats is SO much fun.

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