Probably ought to rename this beast that.
I had a couple of things to rant and rave about, pointless stuff like the mercury moms and the return of whooping cough in California (and why I consider Jim Carrey and his empty-headed ex Jenny McCarthy two of the prime assholes striding the planet) and an incident with a member of the Greatest Generation who definitely does not deserve the association. I was also going to talk about a random little act of kindness at a fast food drive through. I also had every intention of discussing Lynn Biederstadt’s SLEEP and a couple of other novels that I consider neglected gems, and I was going to ramble on a bit about the very idea of lost treasures, literary and otherwise, as well as bemoan the death of the midlist. Was also going to rave about this great band out of Atlanta, the Constellations.
Oh yeah. Big plans.
Then I got sick.
I’ll live (knock off the sad faces, crickets!) but those verbal assaults will have to wait for later this week. And, as if neglecting one blog weren’t enough, I am, as a class assignment, starting a new blog, Old Dog, New Tricks. It’ll be more restrained, focusing on my return to college, and less prone to foaming at the mouth, profanity infused rants. On that blog, I’ll be on my best behavior.
No ranting about those fucking idiot mercury moms over there, in other words.
But that’s okay, crickets. We’ll always have this corner.
Chirp, chirp.
You have dropped off the map. I hope you have not dropped off the planet. I’m not sure which Craig you are on Facebook, so I can’t get in touch that way. Come back, buddy!