Everyone was out this weekend. We lit a barbecue. In the aftermath of three funerals (johnny cochrane, the pope, prince ranier of monaco) and a wedding (chucky et bride),we needed some of our own ceremony.
I put a downpayment on a new bike ("this is the kind of bike that will last you a lifetime"), and we fired up the bbq. It feels so wrong to be at work today!
The snow is melting to reveal scandal that reeks like a season's dog poop buried in snowbanks. Gomery inquiry reports are leaking like so many roofs, banal corruption as inevitable as potholes, and the gross incompetence as pervasive as the season's breakups and couplings.