i can no longer blog from my job. they are denying access to my blog on all the computers. this means i will likely blog less. also, they are no longer leaving unopened roles of toilet paper in the bathroom. what will i steal now? don't you see, the perks are slowly being taken away. they already have my soul, must they take the perks as well?
the basketball game was exciting. unfortunately, the other team won in overtime. i was screaming much of the time. i felt very different this time around. i made a connection to it this time. i was yelling at the refs, screaming at the coach, and in general, carrying on in a manner that continues the mania associated with the silberg name in relation to sporting events. as the coach is 6 foot 11, i plan on staying away from him for a while. at least i didn't call him a cocktail pianist.
into the wilde, which hopefully wins an oscar, as i look up into these dorian grey skies, and feel blue. it feels like berlin, 1933, but nobody else seems to notice the soldiers marching down the street. it is like i am living in a blind world, and only my glasses work, but since no one else sees, it seems as if i were the blind one. they remain trapped in the same old world of race and sex and money and pop culture and war. they still play the game, even though the final score was never in doubt.
they found a picture of obama dressed in traditional muslim clothing. this is a crime? obama should have condemned this as a crass attack against muslims and an appeal to narrow minded, beer drinking, short dicked, red necked, sentiment. (well, perhaps not in those exact words) instead, he reminded us that "he is not a muslim." hey, 1.4 billion people are, and they should be able to dress and believe in the manner they want to. this guy is supposed to be the change candidate, but other than changing the color of the guy in the white house, i'm still trying to figure out the change he actually represents.
kidd looks reborn in dallas. watch out nba. he's gonna be thirty five in march, and he's hungry for that first ring.
i ran into a gay guy who told me he thought chris has a great botti. i expressed my oral opinion that i would much prefer a strumpet with sax appeal to botti's body. then, when it is over, i will put the buble on ice, man, grab the mike, and sing a ballard to my butler. yes, i will run to this world of sole as fast as my feet can take me. and while it may be a big connick job, i will harry on in the bob hope that life will not george burns me again. gleason here, eddie harris, when you do it, it is electric, but i don't like your varitone of voice, and you can bettis your life i will take a bus to hear trane before i'd walk across the paul street to hear you play. get tim wise, that was a zinn on your part to compare yourself to jc, you richard gott to admit that. that was the nader of your career. i'm not gonna beat around the bush, i would gore you for it if you were in my sight. i would give you nixon, i would draw blood and get a b in art class. don't you like how i pepper this blog with puns. to me, we are all one big adams family, and to be frankenstein, if we can't laugh, why should we go on?
maybe we shouldn't.
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