Peace to Shane MacGowan and Kirsty McColl. And sláinte to Shane’s old bandmates, as The Pogues reunited to sing “The Parting Glass” at his funeral.
Merry Christmas from the family
Ever’body sing! Feliiiiiiz naviiiiiiidaaaaaaaad. …
Look on the bright side
After the results of the pestilential erection came in I decided to leave our Halloween lights up through Christmas.
It was just my way of saying “Jesus Christ!”
I may leave them up until the results of the next pestilential erection come in. Assuming we have another one, that is.
My little boneheads are considerably brighter than the MAGA dimbulbs, but those low-wattage loudmouths may actually be more illuminating in at least one respect. They provide a daily reminder that we must walk some distance in darkness.
Rather than curse that darkness, I light my candles. They have their joke, and I have mine.
Happy holidays from Herself, Miss Mia Sopaipilla, and Your Humble Narrator.
There ain’t no Sanity Clause
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?
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.
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.
Mad Blog Media 