The Bloggy Blogface!

I think I can speak for just about everyone that 2020 can go get fucked. There is no need for any end of the year reviews for this colossal dumpster fire. 2020 is that pain in your leg you know exactly what it is but just let it fester. 2020 is that incoming phone call you know who it is but you'd rather not answer. It is that bug flying around inside the lampshade you just can't swat dead quick enough. It is that dryer you've been picking clean clothes for the next day out of for weeks on end. 2020 is that book on the nightstand someone gave you that you don't really feel like reading, but they keep asking you about it. 2020 is that monthly bill from that Fortune 500 company of the service you need but can't afford to pay. 2020 is that package marked FRAGILE but still got smushed into your mailbox. It is the garbage nobody else wants to bring to the curb. It is the knife that is now too dull to slice when you don't have a sharpener. It is the roommate eating al...

  My brief and illustrious hockey career started and ended in ninth grade gym class. Believe it or not, a public school in upstate New York somehow afforded twelve flimsy hockey sticks in its inventory, in addition to some makeshift goals made out of the finest vinyl netting and PVC pipes. Half of us donned blue pinnies that smelled of sweaty onions, then soon we were off to do the hockeying. And the puck? A plastic, hollow version of the real ones. Better safe than sorry.  Our gym teacher for this fifty-minute class was some barrel-chested redhead who I think was also one of the football coaches. We started with our usual warm up stretches and sit-ups, absolutely the best exercises for the upcoming absurdity at hand. The school building had two gymnasiums, and we were scheduled to use the more run-down one on the second floor. None of my gym classes announced what we would be doing beforehand, so it was sort of a fun surprise to see what we were about to get ourselves into on...

Thanks to quarantine, my exceptionally chiseled physique has fallen into such sad atrophy. Unscrewing jars with my left hand has now become a silly, yet challenging task. Twice in the last couple weeks I have managed to sprain A) a knee and B) an ankle while doing things I always do - getting into a car, and walking. Looking forward to falling in the shower.  And speaking of walking, the only appropriate time I can do it is very early in the morning. Sure, maybe seven or eight in the morning doesn't seem that bad to some, but it is to me. It's too damn early! And there's too many people, with their dogs and cats and chickens or whatever they're walking up and down these streets. So I have been "postponing" the walking, to later, or mostly not at all. My cardiologist (if I had one) would be proud. My local grocery store has been playing some corny, yet timely, overhead announcement lately. The last line she utters is  "we're all in this together."...

The first time I visited, I had to park across the street in the lot of an abandoned gas station. The lot itself went up a slight hill, and the station's sign would occasionally spin some slow turns whenever the town spirits wanted to have some fun.  She lived in a questionably constructed building on the second floor of this sleepy Revolutionary War town, adjacent to a craft store that was hardly ever open. In the basement sat a four-lane bowling alley and a small bar. It was by appointment only, which really meant the building's landlord had to be there to serve drinks and keep an eye on the action. I didn't get a chance to bowl down there, but seeing the construction of the building, this was probably a good thing. When she moved out of her place, part of the process involved placing a three-foot wide plank over the bowling alley basement stairs, in order to move big furniture out. Needless to say she left the heavy lifting to the moving experts.  The new plac...

   We're now in day two-hundred something and counting of self-quarantine. I've been okay, knock on wood. Trying to avoid the larger petri dishes like the Walmarts and Targets and what not. Why would you even risk it at this point? Order your stuff online, if you can. I haven't been to either place in over a month now, but the last couple times I did show up, many grocery aisles were disheveled and partially bare. I've been sticking to my closer (and smaller) grocery and dollar stores, neither of which have featured paper products on the shelves for weeks. Grocery shopping in the time of the 'Rona has been ridiculous here, and everywhere else I'm sure. This is thanks in part to your hoarders and panic shoppers, who managed to purchase all packages of toilet paper every single day before stores finally started putting a limit on how many you could get. Nothing like sanitary essentials being treated like they're a Black Friday special, wheeled onto the sale...

Well shit, Martha. I didn't expect this COVID-19 outbreak to be as severe as I thought it would be. But what the hell do I know, I'm not some infectious disease specialist. Here I am already washing my damn hands like sixteen times a day and now I'm being told it's not enough? Well, nobody's saying that per se, but they might as well be. And I'll tell you what, color me surprised that our television celebrity President isn't showing that true leadership we've come to expect from him. Just a short time ago I received a notice from our former President about some of the realities concerning this pandemic that were way better than our esteemed leader blurted out the other night. The nerve of that guy, butting his head in with facts and data. You lost, get over it! Can we shoot the virus away? I think we can shoot it away. It's an airborne virus, is it not? Covfefe-19 doesn't stand a chance against my trusty vintage war musket. I will dip my bull...

    I rang in the new year watching the ball drop two minutes late thanks to my sketchy live stream. I was on my fourth glass of champagne, nursing it alone as everyone had already retired for the night. In the next hour, I watched a bunch of musical acts from people and bands I mostly never heard of before. January 2020 sucked for many of us. Famous people died! Government checks and balances now mean nothing! A Duke & Duchess left the Royal Family! People actually watched the Pro Bowl! Australia fucking caught on FIRE. My sister and I both "celebrated" another journey around the sun by...sending Facebook messages back and forth on our respective days. And I think last month I caught a little head cold. Or maybe that was December? Anyway, we're now in February and everything's gonna get better. Right? Oh, well there's that virus named after a beer thing. That sucks! But I do feel like we've been through this before.  And now we're just allowing...