The pile of things I’ve read concerning politics, all signifying things I want to sit down and write about for a while, don’t seem to matter at all, like that part of my brain packed some clothes, said ‘later’ around the office up there, and is now on vacation in some Xanadu it thought up on it’s own one day when the sex portion of the brain had the body’s full attention.
Like the character named ‘Andy’ in Shawshank Redemption, it slowly dug a hole out, little by little each time it could, until finally one day something more powerfull and addictive came my way and away political brain crawled, through cramped space, some of it filled with the kind of waste that’d kill average renegade body tissue on contact, on outside to freedom, to come back through the front door the day after this obession finally moves on, this silent but deadly drug the rest of this head cannot resist…
March madness.
Downright deadly when your team is so damned good you’re looking into a home equity loan, putting the money down on them to run the table. I once used to say, “can’t think of a good reason to ever deal with the Russian mob”, but that’s all over now. This Eagles team is serious!
They CAN’T lose!