I spend another weekend riding on the No Drama Llama, the
Keep Cool Mule, no problem for an old Rodeo Clown like me, floating around in the pool on the No Fail Whale with a vodka drink nearby, I have the late summer sunshine, the internet, my podcasts and playlists and a 70s novel about grifters and punks, police and the Effa-Bee-Eye. I barbecue. I eat fresh peaches and nectarines. The sun goes down. I have a glass of red.
I have a product idea. It’s called The Pizzalater. It’s in the shape of a big triangle and what you do is put the pizza leftover from last night in it and then leave it in your car or somewhere hot and sunny until lunchtime.
I’ve never been interested in knitting.
I got angry at the guy at the pizza place who apologized for not wearing a mask and then proceeded to explain that the whole mask wearing thing was bullshit, only old people caught the virus, he learned as a child not to touch his face…I should have said something, but really I was so surprised by the whole dialogue, I just continued flipping through the real estate magazine.
“Password” is a good name for a dog