Another day has come and gone, why don't you come and go with me? in Normal entries

Balmy spring day with snow on the ground. I drove and it melted. Coincidence? Perhaps. One of the old discs had the above gem on it. You don’t have to like it. We can even still be friends, but you’ll have to bring me sex, drugs and rock and roll. I kid; money will do. Or you could keep listening to it until you either like it or are declared unfit to make decisions without endangering self or community.

There was a perfect moment around noon when the snow cross was surrounded by grass. Unfortunately the sun was so direct the pictures I took were whited out. Yes I tried different angles. Yes it’s possible that I am a shitty photographer and don’t know any of the bells and whistles of my camera phone or even the high end editing software I have because … I can. G’won agree with that, the money, sex, drug, rock and roll and insanity plea aren’t for friendship any more. I have your cat. If you want to see fluffy lick herself again …

Wait, no, I wouldn’t do that; make a threat on a public forum. Should I make the entry friends only? As the poorly conceived old commercial for cheeto’s says, “It’s not easy being cheesy”. Of course it was a cartoon tiger dressed like a cartoon cheetah in sunglasses doing something cool (for a fart joke demographic; both an age and lifestyle choice) saying that it wasn’t easy being cheesy after doing something easy. Hey, wait a minute … do you think that commercial was making fun of me? Fucking cartoon faux cheetah.

They should do a commercial with innovative ways of getting Cheetos powder off your hands. It could be funny both in and out of context; in context its self-deprecating, out of context, say, a guy in a suit at a job interview pretends to feel up the secretary just to get the powder on his blouse (heh, you thought that idea was vaguely misogynist didn’t ya?). Or, say, Trump on the campaign trail, wiping his paws on a baby before shaking the mother’s hand. Or, you know, something funny. That is the major flaw of Cheetos; orange dust. Crusty orange dust. The more you lick your finger the harder the crust gets. Oh, oh, oh, Trump has a personal Cheetos dust finger licker …

You know, Trump doesn’t really need a punch line. Neither do Cheetos. Cheetos could do very serious commercials with, like, Matthew McConaughy (ok, so I can’t spell his name) and maybe an environmental message. Trump is a punchline in a series of GOP jokes dating back at least twelve years if not twenty. Remember when they were rich old white guys? Um, rich old white guys who weren’t obvious clowns? Shit. Rich old white guys who took no bid contracts and shot their friends while hunting and probably sacrificed goats to Satan? Wow. I guess the GOP is same as it ever was. Wait, I got it … remember when they weren’t the lunatic fringe? Shit. Oh, I got it, remember when I didn’t feel sorry for the GOP?