Leaves are falling off the backyard maple like winos off the drunk wagon. The morning temperature requires pants. And the sun doesn’t peek over the Sandias until shortly after 8:30, which is far too late for enlightenment, because I’ve already scanned the news by then.
Case in point: In the dark, over coffee, I learned that once again I had been denied the Nobel Prize in Literature. Yeats, Beckett, and Dylan, si, but the Mad Dog, no? The mind, it boggles.
And after I’d already designed the cover for my collected works, too. Without some Nobel greasing the skids that doorstop will have all the selling power of a Hegseth-Patel ticket in 2028.
Aw, it’s probably just as well. I’d probably have to take up smoking a pipe and drinking port or some shit like that. Wearing tweed.
Fuck that noise. It’s brisk around here in the mornings, but not that brisk.
We just got back from early, and in person, voting at the county recorder’s office. All repugs got the bird, as in a single digit salute. We also paid our property taxes. Civic duty done and dusted.
Speaking of civic duty, some asshole sent Sandy $90 by way of Social Security direct deposit. We think it is a clear violation of the Hatch Act along with misappropriation of government funding. Someone should whack dumpster’s peetie, if they can find it. In any case, him and his boot lickers took funding from public media. So, I gave Arizona Public Media ninety bucks of it back.