Just A Gigolo….

The Slinky One is now yelling out the window to the fluffy calico. He yells, "Broad! Hey Broad, bring those dames in here, we could have a spot of tea!" The fluffy calico asks who he is again, and he begins to sing, "I'm just a gigolo, everywhere I go, people know the game I'm playing." Out on the porch, I'm playing feather stick with the baby tabby and the fluffy calico asks me, "What went wrong?"

If you were lucky enough to have seen my Poppy sing at a wedding, you’d probably have heard him do Just A Gigolo. If you were lucky enough to have a 50th wedding anniversary, he’d greet you with, “What went wrong?” Have a spot of tea and a spot of cookie for my Poppy’s 100th birthday today, he was the kind of fun they don’t make much anymore.

I’m wearing Fruit of the Loom and Hanes, thank you. Oh, these are Payless sneakers, thanks!


I watched the Oscars and found that compared to the show, one commercial in particular was the best target for heckling. The Aquafina commercial with people hugging and carrying bottles of water while Karen Carpenter sings Top of the World. I grew up in the ’70s, I like the Carpenters, I like Top of the World. I know a commercial was pretty much what got them noticed to begin with, and if it does it again, yay.

I just don’t understand the whole “Make your body happy.” thing.  WITH WATER.


On the other hand, almost everyone I wanted to win, won. Beyoncé wasn’t bad, Chris Rock won me over with his Gap vs. Banana Republic dig, and no one wore swan dresses, so the only thing I can think of to heckle would be the silly aisle awards. I mean, WTH was that. On the other, other hand, I could just be getting older and mellower with the heckling.


I’m overwhelmed with death this morning. Sandra Dee and John Raitt were bad enough, but Dr. Thompson. OMG. I’m bummed. I wanna go watch Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas again.

Meanwhile, I drew today’s strip, and then played Monopoly with myself, because I’m snowed in. I have the EGA Monopoly Designer Kit written by Richard Tom, where 16 “people” can play. I play all 16. I’m currently beating myself after rebounding from a steep rent I had to pay myself on Kentucky Avenue, while I also languish in Jail. I play cuthroat Monopoly, man.

The wonders of radio frequencies.

I was able to make my idea of beaming satellite into my head a reality for less than $50, and this is the family-friendly account of how that happened. I didn’t really break my hand, but it felt that way at the time. I’m happy to report that the termites didn’t reach the closet, as I never would have been able to kick my way out of the closet organizer if they had. Well…I would’ve but I’d be downstairs in a broken heap right now.

I’m mostly listening to Sirius 22, because it’s the most like WLIR, the station that was sold for $60 million to Unvision to be a Latino Mix mirror station. It doesn’t look as bad as it really was.

So, I haven’t gotten anything else done. Just listening to radio through my television.

I feel 12.