This is supposedly the 100th anniversary of the founding of Where The Ghetto Meets The Sea. There is some kind of jollity going on downtown, complete with fireworks.
Ask me if I care.
This was an awful day. I can't even bring myself to write about all the crap that flowed across my path today.
Instead, I think I'll go to bed and hope tomorrow is better. I'd settle for a little better, which seems too much to ask. At least I will be warm in bed -- though alone, as always -- and may not care that my apartment's heater has chosen to fail and, for reasons best left un-described, will not be fixed unless I can manage to do it myself.
PARENTHETICAL WHO-GIVES-A-DAMN NOTE: The New York Times, a paper only slightly less scurrilous than Hitler's Der Steurmer, has just reported that the New York Philharmonic Orchestra is going to play in North Korea next year. They love that. I think it stinks. I have no desire to see cultural exchanges with people who want to destroy us. I guess it's a New York thing to dig sucking up to enemies.
Can you tell I'm in a bad mood? If not, let me assure you that I am.
And this is all you're getting from me today. Can't hide the discomfort and pain much longer, Jim.
I've been paddling upstream in the sewer too long, and I think I'm reaching the limits of my endurance.
That's the way it goes, I guess.
It'll make one anonymous reader happy, I'm sure.
18 hours ago