Category: Holidays

There ain’t no Sanity Clause

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 12 Comments
Can’t we all just MSSA (Make Santa Sane Again)?

You better watch out
You better watch out
You better watch out
You better watch out
MAGA Claws is coming to town

He’s making a list
And checking it twice
That knock on the door
Is probably ICE
MAGA Claws is coming to town

Your health care he’ll be slashing
Your pension he will take
Once the migrants have been shipped back home
On a lettuce farm you’ll rake

Achtung!

You better watch out
You better watch out
You better watch out
You better watch out
MAGA Claws is coming to town

Little tin horns are beating his drums
Calling his enemies losers and bums
MAGA Claws is coming to town


Curly-head dolls are all that he sees
Says he can grab ’em by their pee-pees
MAGA Claws is coming to town

He’s got the House and Senate
He’s got the Supremes too
Even if you voted for this clown
He will sic them all on you

Jawohl!

You better watch out
You better watch out
You better watch out
You better watch out
MAGA Claws is coming to town!

What solstice is this?

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 8 Comments
This year’s solstice seems to lack a certain wintry flavor.

It’s beginning to feel a lot like Chri … no, no, it’s not, actually.

It’s 49° right now with a high of 58° anticipated, and we are remarkably light on snowmen in these parts.

Meet the new Mac.

The dearth of seasonal weather notwithstanding, I finally got around to unwrapping and wrestling with the solstice gift I bought for myself (with Management’s approval, of course). And this is the first blog post from my brand-new MacBook Pro, with the M4 Pro chip, 24GB of memory and 1TB of storage.

It’s hard to describe such a wonder as a midrange Mac, but that’s what it is. Anybody who’s priced the property in Cupertino lately knows how many Dead President Trading Cards you can flush down the loo if you’ve a mind to, and a life partner who’s willing to stand by and watch you do it. I tried to find the Middle Way between making do and delusions of grandeur.

And I think I succeeded.

With my old 15-inch Intel MBP sidelined by botched MacSurgery at the Apple Store, and the 13-incher hobbled by penury (8GB memory, 128GB storage), I needed something with more power, more memory, more storage, and plenty of ports for external drives, the LG display, a mic, SD cards, etc., et al., and so on and so forth.

Plus I wanted something I could snatch up and run with when the jackboots hit the front door come Jan. 21.

So, here we are.

I’ve got all the data transferred, connected everything I need to do my little bit of business to see that it all works, and downloaded fresh copies of a few third-party apps I use. Then I kicked the tires, lit the fires, and took her for a spin around the digital block.

I haven’t assembled a Radio Free Dogpatch podcast with the beast yet, and might not even publish an episode this next week. You may think of that as my solstice present to you.

Closed on Thanksgiving

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 7 Comments

There’s a chain across this dump and a sign that says “Closed on Thanksgiving.”

The tears in your eyes notwithstanding, you’re gonna have to find another place to put the garbage.

Hope you have a Thanksgiving dinner that couldn’t be beat. Keep an eye out for Officer Obie. You know what to tell the shrink.

A slice of watermelon

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 1 Comment
In the pink.

Here’s a tasty bit of watermelon for all the veterans in the audience — sunrise over the Sandias — from your friendly neighborhood pinko.

Let’s also give a thought to all those who aren’t around to see it on Veterans Day 2024. Some of them might be a little upset with us for surrendering to the fascists they fought.

Boneheads

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 11 Comments
Schwinning? Eh, not so much.

It was a light turnout for Halloween at El Rancho Pendejo. We handed out just half of the candy I bought, and not even the two neighbor girls showed up.

Thursday was our first truly chilly fall morning — Herself and I had to break out the pants, long sleeves, gloves, and caps to go running — and I finally caved and switched the HVAC from “cool” to “heat.”

Adios, October; buenos dias, November.

Across town, the Not-So-Great Pumpkin was said to be trick-or-treating a smallish crowd of boneheads in a hangar near the Sunport. Let’s just dial that back to “tricking,” shall we? What treats he has are not for such as we.

In any event, I wouldn’t take a fat envelope of Benjamins from his short, greasy meathooks with a set of fireplace tongs and welder’s gloves. The Secret Service used to take a deep professional interest in counterfeiting, but I expect they’re too busy making sure his fat ass only has the one hole in it to frisk him for funny money.

And like I said, treats? Fuhgedaboudit. We’re waiting to see how many suckers have fallen for his tricks again.