I made my friend , who is a literal expert, take an “Odyssey” seminar with me and now am forcing her, who doesn’t like Christopher Nolan films, to host me when I fly in to drag her to opening night. Hey, I’m Greek, I’m charming, you shouldn’t follow me if you want to live. An immersive experience!

I reiterate, my crush was solely on Stringer Bell, Idris Elba can suck it.

I do a really good job of staying off political mailing lists, but some robot keeps sending me taunting texts about keeping my crown as the best voter in my household and damn if it isn’t working on both of us.

Here in the stadium where I live they are showing NBA Conference Finals Game 7 to…nobody but us chickens I think. While playing mellow reggae pop. It works.

I like Stephen Colbert fine but don’t like that people are turning a guy who, at his mellowest, seems like the firm but fair principal of a Jesuit high school, into a cuddle wumpus, a Muppet versed in Tom Bombadil trivia. He is a trained comedy assassin, he needs to return to his One True Path!

Yes, if you ignore the hundreds of pre-21st century works about men choking to death on the fumes of toxic testosterone despite plentiful work down the mines, Sir Sumner here is correct.

Is the Treasury Department wishcasting in the way our betters have told us not to?

I have a longstanding belief that Spencer Pratt and Heidi Montag are Marina Abramovic level performance artists (look it up, I said it ages ago.) “Lost Angeles: A Mayoral Prism” would be a masterwork, but I prefer their oeuvre not include wrecking a city solely for Art and David Foster’s taxes.

Life hack: mini fridges are dirt cheap on Craigslist right now if you live anywhere near a college. If you’ve got the space, put one in your bedroom. Only fill it with sleep friendly beverages and good eye cream. This pairs well with putting on CNN International for the full hotel life experience.

Looking forward to blue state ports of entry airports closing and passport control being entirely women named Patsy asking what church you and your people attend.

Slightly ruin a song title. Thus: Across the Snyderverse

Shocker: The Worst Person You’ve Ever Met Fucking Loves Cocaine

Maybe y’all have access to some thrilling gripper of an AI writing tool but I went to a couple of writers group meetings where the enthusiastic host fired up the Ghost In The Machine Writer and churned out the most “those are certainly words in a sequence” prose ever, not even bad, utterly lifeless.

Is every Southern GOP politician going to John Kennedy’s dialect coach because one must usually attend a high school production of a Tennessee Williams play to get the level of cornpone now featured in Fox news clips.

My passed down Nancy Drews had jalopies and phosphates and Bess Marvin is defined by her weight and I was transported to that time and place nonetheless because that’s how stories work, they also got hobbits and yodas sometimes.

Alt text: a cartoon group of colorful frogs mostly grinning as they intertwine their limbs on a black background.

Those of us who were properly raised with the notion that America is not anointed among nations it’s just got a lot of money welcome you to the Jaundiced Side.

Do yoga until you’re flexible enough to scream “CASTLE DOCTRINE BITCHES” up your hoohah.

I’m putting together a team.

CNN Crime Analyst alternating between “the spent casings indicate a ballistic fingerprint commensurate with a point 38 mouth diameter” and “bullets are metal thingies that go in gun, a stick that goes boom,” and whoever is in his earpiece is not able to steer him to a middle path.

For bragging rights later: Throwing down my marker here and now that the new musical “The Lunchbox” is gonna blow up when it hits Broadway. Now in regional preview but all the earmarks of going the distance.

*pounding on a novelist’s door* “You better not be relying on the steady accretion of detail in there!!”

The makeup artist who was wrongfully deported to the CECOT torture facility is now seeking asylum in Spain “after concluding that he did not feel safe back home and did not trust US authorities sufficiently to return to fight his legal case.” “I feel safe here,” says Andry José Hernández Romero:

Hollywood Stock Exchange, all day every day. Got pretend rich off of betting in The Blair Witch Project.

People who think they can stick around to be the adults in the room need to bone up on their “Logan’s Run.”

This is a cat checkpoint; relinquish your most recent cat picture on your phone.

Oh no, people are gushing about butt bows on wedding gowns again, I’ve reached the first Y in my Jeremy Bearimy.

“Hello, six large slices of Weaponized Government Slush Fund Pie please.”

A fun thing about having an older home is speculating why certain electrical outlets are where they are.

Todd Blanche is so goony. This foolio wouldn’t pass muster on Judge Judy. There are Real Housewives who are less defensive and melodramatic. This animate phrenology teaching aid wouldn’t get cast in “Boardwalk Empire” because he’s too on the nose as a gutter mob attorney.

100% convinced the Roman bust avatar panjandrums of Twitter are engaged in Operation Reverse Nero, for kicks. “What if we took an actual fat, lazy, wildly corrupt dictator and made history record him as a populist titan? What fun, the Latin Club will rue the day I was denied its presidency!”

At the Oakland Greek Festival where, let me be clear, absolutely no one has opinions on Christopher Nolan’s casting decisions.

I read that plastic surgery is nouveau riche, but aging naturally is Old Money. Coincidentally, it is also No Money.

*quietly, to neither disturb the birds nor obscure their calls* Dudes rock

Cal’s Commencement is tomorrow and as a stadium dweller I’m here to tell you the playlist is horrendous.

Odds are even that this man paints over wallpaper, sweeps under rugs, and is diligent about paying off men who know where the bodies are buried.

I can replicate my best vacation mindset by lying in bed propped up on too many pillows and putting on CNN International with the sound on, but too low to make anything out. Don’t need a sea breeze, you can keep your ocean waves lapping, this is the good stuff.

It finally came to me who this guy reminded me of. He’s 100% Ricken Hale from “Severance.” And this is his time.

Note that federal politicians interact pleasantly with cops most days, if not every day. They develop a Downton Abbey fondness for their footmen, for they see them constantly working for their benefit. It would add keenness to their insight if, when they least expect it, their valet throttled them.

My brother and I were mad for Martin and Lewis, Godzilla, and the Beach Blanket movies when we were kids. Whatever the quality (not usually great), the absolute lock afternoon movies on local TV had on our attention gave us a broad palette. I suppose parenting could do the same.

What I have learned from living in the back of a stadium that is also the front of the woods is turkeys CAN fly, but only a little and it is DISTRESSING.

THIS IS WHO RUNS THIS ACCOUNT

I recognize the first act set-up and after intermission the Jehovah shit hits the fan, it’s preamble to the literal wrath of God. Good luck, believers!

This morning I came upon a professional Mamdani election denier and thought what are her bona fides? Did a little searching and discovered this, her pro-cop protest anthem. Now you listen, it’s a gas:

You know what I can’t find on the internet anywhere? That ancient photo of John Roberts showing off his pie to some mustachioed buddies. Gone. There also used to be photos of Ben Shapiro wearing a suit with drunk UCLA Republicans in hoodies where he looks terrified. It was a delight.

Sometimes Buggy’s Bitey needs to be displayed to me as it’s brought outside to get some sun. It’s a complicated relationship.

I bought a used Faulkner compilation that is a decommissioned library book and every time I see its Dewey decimal binding I break out in a cold sweat. I’d forgotten what a library scofflaw I was as a kid and the penalty I escaped. But like Edgar Allan Poe said, the rhythm is gonna get you.

The younger of my two decrepits (16! She’s but a sweet teen of a cat!) has decided that she is going to eat one of the two peregrine falcons that circle our deck. Not both; she’s not greedy. I remind her, as she skirts the ledge, that kittens are generally free.

I miss the olden days when you would ask the vet about your older pet’s snapping and hissing at nothing and instead of “cognitive decline” they said “they’re a silly grumpy Gus.”

Yes, yes, MIA was fired for being the worst, no surprise, but respect to the shade set forth: “The early-2000s star”