Happy Presidents Day. Today it happened. I got that old feeling. I think I’m in love. With my mattress. We’ve only been together since Valentines Day. I thought at first she might be a bit too firm, but I’m tired enough to make that a moot point. She’s good because she’s too high for my cat to jump up on. Sophie is middle aged and she avoids jumping up on counters and stuff to the younger cat (whose name I still don’t know). You haven’t lived until you get a gut shot at 1 am delivered by a fifteen pound cat. I’ve also lost the fear of falling off.

Saturday I did an unprofessional, stupid thing. I had a lesson due and allowing myself to be pressed by a deadline instead of solving the problem I e-mailed the story to my instructor. Here’s the problem; the header was incomplete, a column I’d put in toward the end split and was triple spaced and hard on left and right margins and there were two blank pages before the cover page. I was an asshole for doing that. Saturday I pulled my head out and printed the story. I rewrote it on a proper template. Along the way some of the “breathless” prose was breath taking as in being in close proximity to a rotting fish. Hell, they looked good when I wrote them and rewrote them. They weren’t big flopping word errors but nitty little bits that made the story suck. Maybe it could get by a casual reader but it would really show up when a practiced eye looked at it. Lesson learned: It’s not the big stuff that’ll get you, it’s all the small stuff you ignore either through hubris or laziness.

Oscar Pistorius aka The Blade runner wept when he was charged with the murder of his model girlfriend Reeva Steenkamp. The police had been called to the residence before, presumably on domestic issues. He’s getting support. I can see it coming from his family, Hitler’s relative thought he was misguided. They deny premeditation. They fought before and he pulled a gun. I think that might, kinda, maybe, would show premeditation. If his supporters pull out the handicapped card there is no God.

The City of New Britain CT has implemented a new snow removal plan. We’ll plow a passable strip down the middle of the road and as far as the rest “God put it there, God will take it away.”. It might work. It’s going to be forty tomorrow and it’s going to rain, followed by the thirties. You see one problem that has arisen is that the garbage trucks can’t collect without blocking the whole street. Hence we have four trash containers and two recycling containers moldering in the parking lot. The recycling containers aren’t too bad, but the garbage containers are knocking birds out of the sky. The building managers have been by to free up the garbage containers as they were needed. Oh yeah, a call to City Hall, a lot of excuses and BS.

The local TV stations have got to stop bragging about their Doppler, Polarization or some geezer who’s got his willy hanging out the station window they use to forecast the weather. All I ask is be accurate, timely and then shut up. Connecticut is the third smallest state. It can’t be too hard to cover the weather systems in-state. Also who gives a s*** about a rainy system in the Mississippi Valley. We’ll deal with it when it shows up. This ain’t our first rodeo.

About weather women and female new readers: How come you get two publicity shots of them when a picture is shown in one of those thirty second slots they couldn’t sell and decided to pimp the news or weather? The first is The Professional, suit, glasses at a desk reading copy or The I’m Here For You, waist-up, side shot, semi-tight blouse, hair casually over one shoulder with a come-F*** me look on her face. It helps if you’re attractive, read the damn news. When I drank and spent post graveyard shift time in bars it was not infrequent to hear “Show me your tits” from the congregation. Especially with Kara. You know.

Channel surfing I stooped on Telemundo. It had a Cantinflas movie on (Google him, he’s culturally famous) and they dubbed the dialogue in. His movies were family friendly. It was as bad as watching George Clooney dubbed in Spanish.

A note to HBO: Enough Chris Farley and John Candy. We know they died young and abused their bodies with food and drugs. They stopped being funny. While I’m at it change the F**king rotation.

Some music:

Heard her on Prairie Home Companion.

Saw her as a member of Pomplamoose, they did a Subaru commercial a year or so back. Liked the group. The CD is pop but not too.

See you Wednesday