If you go down to Hammond You'll never come back In my opinion you're On the wrong track We'll always love you but That's not the point

If you go down to Hammond You'll never come back In my opinion you're On the wrong track We'll always love you but That's not the point

Platner: misfit from blue blood family ejects from proscribed path. Finds a fit in the adrenaline surge of war, inevitably eats him up. Scuffs around DC, back to Maine, family sets him up with job, house, the outer edge of what he's capable of managing for forseeable future--not governing.

My super-power? Resto info/recs was one of the first corners of the internet to enshittify, but I've gotten pretty good at navigating around the algorithms, have found some great food in cities where I had no organic connections.

One of my best Chicago memories. On the el from MDW to Loop, 7:30A, January, 15F, head down, grinding toward a quarterly mtg. At Harold Washington and after, riders in Cubs swag and high spirits come aboard, some with beers. It was the Ernie Banks parade day.

All of this is true, AND I will bet my last nickel that there will be mechanics’ liens and law suits from unpaid ballroom contractors.

Like Mr. Stiles in the Nolte classic Teachers.

Somehow tapped back into an algo it had taken me a month to get out of a yr ago: anime avatar accts whose content was entirely about tummy aches and generally “feeling bad.” Must be what it’s like to be a school nurse.

Always wanted to create a little side hustle where I kit you out to be a decent home cook. Cookware, always on-hand ingredients, basic knife skills and cooking/baking/bbq techniques.

Moving into summer dinner mode: something from the grill (or leftover yesterday’s something) on a salad.

Brining a turkey breast for the smoker. Thanksgiving in June on tap.

The term elides the value of worth/talent. Social media is voracious, insatiable, invites the “creator” to feed it a constant stream of underbaked garbage and rage bait.

I’m Fr. Charles Coughlin I’m Anita Bryant I’m Phyllis Schlafly I’m Governor George Wallace And I’m David Duke. Those stories and Roger Stone tonight on 60 Minutes.

Can we talk about The Roches? Idiosyncratic on every level, brilliant, unique. Heard "Hammond Song" today on WXNA (give them money now), a song I hadn't heard in a decade. Astonishing song. RIP Maggie.

Welp there’s no unseeing this

Our kids were, bizarrely, big Grape Nuts fans from about age 8 on. I think they were a way to pack in calories quickly before school.

Pretty much the embodiment of the Boomer, Reagan-era blue blood conservative who signed on with Trump, the kind of trashy arriviste they'd spurned their entire lives, and now have to show up, hat in hand, for his violent, chaosy circus.

Texas v Tennessee matchup in WCWS today demonstrating that these schools have identified the ugliest versions of the ugliest color in the spectrum.

My best college pal confessed to having misheard the lyrics to the Tubes' "Talk to You Later" as "talk to your lady." To this day (college = 80s), when we sign off on a phone call or in person meet up, one of us will say, ok, talk to your lady.

New reincarnation goal unlocked

Line of the Day "We are, after all, in the midst of a manly renaissance in this country that is also largely theater, led by Heritage Foundation interns who look like the result of AI prompts to 'make tuberculosis a person.'" -- @mobute.bsky.social www.truthdig.com/articles/dep...

Is it possible that women might be a little sensitive to having their intellectual and physical labor stolen, considering these last, say, 2K years?

Chicken pot pies: home smoked chicken and stock, veggies, buttermilk biscuit top, geometry fail.

Dude at grocery store buying a handle of Fireball, a package size I naively didn’t know existed.

The Schmenge Brothers and the Kenosha Kickers have withdrawn from the Freedom 250 celebration.

As a cheapskate, I’m a sitting duck for haunted hotels, usually left-behind, deferred maintenance palaces like this sprawling 80s PNW coke dream next to SeaTac.

They’re finally going to have to break down and call Ted Nugent.

A Mr. Reinhold, who was detained in several camps, here describes his daily meals given in Auschwitz-Birkenau. Three meals a day! ‘Food: early ¼ coffee, midday ½ water gruel, evenings 200 grams bread with 20 grams margarine, or a slice of sausage’

A complete misread of kids, who famously hate being patronized, like 10x more than adults do. This is why Khanmigo died almost instantly.

Pretty much every morning is a Vonnegut moment when American legacy media serves up its daily portion, but this one, for some reason, sent me into a laughing/crying fit.

Two wks ago while on a work trip, I had my first Oberon of the year at Bell’s in Kalamazoo. Now this. It’s time for Michigan summer!

Kind of a Zen answer that transcends the prison of choice: whatever they decide to give you at Popeye’s.

I have wandered DC parks late at night where many people were sleeping rough, looking for a friend who I feared was in crisis. People there were kind and said they hoped I found my friend. They are far more part of the fabric of DC than this buffoon spouting nonsense in his cheaply-gilded palace.

Moon fight!

Nice try. You’ll never get me to say an unkind word about our culinary treasures: Imo’s pizza and Stag beer.

I do a fair amount of facilities assessment work, so I have a deferred maintenance outlook on the world--which makes me wonder what the Walgreens/CVS strategy is.

We long for even modest focus, for doing the thing we set out to do. Screen time reports measure the whopping holes our phones blow through our day, the rabbity frenzy they put us in, and the torrents of data we disgorge to pay for it all.

Dude cooked it himself and still got the order wrong, just to stay true to brand.

No mention of empty beer cans at the scene, so most of my friends are in the clear.

AI still not reading the prompts right. DJT asked for "golden showers White House."

This woman is a hero.

As an old guy who has loved America's old guy sport as long as I can remember, the only thing that would make this app better is if they printed it on strips of paper and sold it for an IRL nickel on the street.

I'm sure it's just as nice there where you are, in the gated community in suburban Charlotte, behind the Olive Garden and the Golf Galaxy.

I've been method training most of my adult life for the role of "guy eating a sandwich at Adriana's" and will offer my services as an extra in "Love on the Hill" for the low price of a sandwich at Adriana's.

Moop. Tix start at $300. Prine would have hated that.

Pretty good chance that your child’s elementary school teacher employs Responsive Classroom strategies, a structured approach to building classroom community. Every year begins with kids learning each other’s names.

This is Vonnegut-quality black comedy here: world ends in a nuclear pissing match bw China and US over Cuba. Bay of 30-50 Feral Hogs

Look, shouldn’t we wait until Boebert does something trashy before we let her reenter the conversation? Have we lost our standards?

I love these stories of small town folks standing up to cynical billionaires, but as a proxy measure, guy I know who owns a large MEP supply company says his business doubled this year, bc of data centers in MO, KS, IN, IL.