Wednesday, June 15, 2005

I still don't have a lot to report on today. I've been really busy at work, and everything else seems to be slipping through the cracks (including blogging).
I need to have repair work done on the roof of my house, and so far no fewer than 3 different roofing companies have promised to come by, look at the roof, and give me an estimate, but then have failed to appear. It's a hell of a way to run a business, and I'm getting a little frustrated. I think that maybe the patchwork that needs to be done on my roof just isn't a big enough job to really get their attention (talk about a mixed blessing).
Not too much even going on in politics today. The Senate is still fighting over whether or not John Bolton deserves a vote for ambassador to the U.N., with the Republicans accusing the Democrats of stalling, and the Democrats accusing the Republicans of refusing to hand over documents that prove Bolton has previously manipulated intelligence data in order to serve his own agenda. I don't care if the Republicans think we're stalling or not, of course. The point is, Bolton is just the most recent in a long line of crappy Bush appointees to be shoved down our throats, and given his previous job history (of bullying, oppression, and abrasiveness) and his outspoken criticism of the U.N., Bolton simply is not the man for the job (especially at a time when U.S. relations are particularly strained with the U.N. because the Bush administration sent them a pack of lies about weapons of mass destruction in its attmept to justify the Iraq War).
But all of this has been said before.
It feels like the doldrums of summer are already upon us, and it's only mid June. Blech. It's hot, and everyone seems grouchy and bored. We all need vacations and some trips to Barton Springs.
Eat a popsicle for Steanso. We gotta be about to turn a corner, soon, kids.


CrackBass said...

you know a good way to turn this hot-assed, republican-caused, shitty summer around?? fishing. thats right. F I S H I N G. it cure what ails ya. that, and its fun. and you get drunk. then, later, you eat the fish. then you go to the salty dog and get drunk(er). and by enjoying nature/the environment, you're pissing off the 'publicans. so come on! go fishing! you'll love it.

CrackBass said...

well, today is a sad day for the wilsons. and possibly a sad day for steanso. while at the courthouse today, i stumbled upon an intended secret. apparently steanso has been berating both the cooking skills and the food purchasing done by the wilsons. several people at the court house knew much about the wilsons' habits. as CrackBass was being informed of all his purchases, purchase prices, and steak burning incidents by one courthouse member, another said "wait! you're not supposed to say anything! that was supposed to be a secret!" at this point, the one who let the cat out of the bag shut his/her mouth. suddenly the room became oddly quiet. this caused crackbass to wonder just what else had been told about the previous wilson/steans dinners and to feel very self conscious. no more dinners with steanso. woe is me. very very woe i am.

J.S. said...

Steanso is always appreciative of dinners with the Wilsons, but some dinners are just a wee bit funnier than others. Since Steanso can't cook at all, he does not criticize anyone's cooking skills, but Steanso, IS fond of telling humorous anecdotes, and the Night of the Expensive Charred Steaks was certainly one of those stories (sadly, I think Steanso was mostly amused by how seriously some members of the Wilson house seemed to be treating the situation, because the food, while a bit pricey, did, after all, constitute but a single meal, which is not such a big deal in the grand scheme of things). Anyway, I was not mocking either the cooking or the food, so much as the unnecessary gravitas of the situation. And I wonder who could have spilled the beans about Steanso's story? (Kim Bloom, I'm looking in your direction...)

CrackBass said...

CrackBass can not respond to this item, as he has commiteed seppuku to save his honor