Bullets Over Brockville

by Dave on August 26, 2008

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I am desperately trying to get my crippled blog back into fighting form – I appreciate you all bearing with me and I have someone working on the technical issues. In the meantime I’ll fire out a few blurbs that have been on my mind.

  • The Denver DNC: I haven’t seen cannibalism like this since that wonderful movie about the Uruguayan rugby team crashing in the Andes. Keep it up, Dems. Please.
  • The last long weekend of the summer is ahead, I have more work to do than I care to think about, and I’m still trying to keep this blog moving along. Am I in possession of a labor of love – or severely cockeyed priorities? I’m not entirely sure.
  • Has there ever been a porn movie called “Cockeyed”? Note to self, call Larry Flynt.
  • When looking over my bank statements today and feeling temporarily optimistic I suddenly remembered the pontoon I bent whilst hitting a sneaky rock with the boat. Bye bye disposable income for September.
  • The new boat will be named “Pyeseas 2″ after the original “Pyeseas” which was the 25-foot cabin cruiser my father restored all by himself when I was a little kid. The words “Pye” and “seas” are self explanatory, but my father is also a Pisces, and I believe it was my Aunt Susan who came up with the name back in the mid-eighties when Dad tasked family and friends with devising the perfect name.
  • A longer post about my Dad’s current situation will follow after all the blog glitches have been remedied.
  • This winter will be about buckling down, reviving those dusty side-projects which I feel are still worthwhile and putting money in the bank. And skidooing. Note to Gooch: Get those fucking sleds up here pronto, Gooch.
  • I now have 5 weddings to go to in September. Yes, you heard me correctly, 5. Better reschedule the whole ‘buckling down financially’ thing to October.

That last point has left me so exasperated that the only way to cheer myself up is to now go back to work – so you know it’s bad. I am actually looking forward to each and every single one of the joyous occasions, but I won’t lie – I’ve been crying myself to sleep.

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