Complaints du jour
First I log in four hours for a two hour Doc's appointment. Got up late, grabbed half a cup of coffee and a cookie. By the time I got out of there it was 11:30 and I was shaking. So I headed for the Checker's outside. Normally I avoid the place because it tastes fabulous and feels like bathing your insides with some sort of waste product from an oil refinery. But I'm feeling more than a little sorry for myself and figure that wrecking my body will help me out.
I stagger to the door and it is . . . locked. The hand-scrawled sign, in ink the color of slowly drying blood, says some words about the plumbing. Not a good sign.
So I drag my sorry butt home and automatically flip on the TV. Woot !! NCAA basketball on CBS. Things are looking up. After about 10 minutes in the kitchen rooting around in the fridge and finally putting in the labor to create a cheese sandwich and a glass of tea I stagger to the sofa, ready to settle in for the afternoon. Who should greet me but Dan Rather and that eerie green glow that makes the world look radioactive. S C R E A M !!!
They won't let me escape their whacko war. Time passes. I finally find the game, moved to ESPN2. During a commercial break I switch back to SeeBS and find The Rummy talking to the press. He isn't talking to me. He's too smarmy and taken with his own cleverness. He's playing to the crowd.
Now get this ... they have it all arrayed out like they have been arranging some ghoulish painting. On the right side of the screen in the larger of the windows we have night over Bahgdad, the rose-orange glow of bombs constantly backlighting the homes of actual human beings. On the left lower side of the screen we have The Rummy, blue curtain behind him. And he is droning on about his personal TV viewing.
Honest to God. The Secretary of Defense is talking about watching TV. Seems he's a critic. He sez how he was watching earlier and saw some commentator comparing the bombing of Iraq to World War II. Rummy is angry. He goes on about how this should not happen because ... get this ... THERE IS NO COMPARISON!!!
Those dumb shit commentators. Next time they should send their copy to DoD to be marked up.
Because I've had all that I can stand, I'm going to bury myself in roundball now. See you later.