Snark, Crackle, Pop!

 It's fun to watch a real press briefing or press conference from the White House now. It's not hard to tell who is in charge at those events. It's obvious that the chick with the Jiffy Pop hair has gone back to her job at the Popeye's drive-through.

I cleaned up my computer a little today. I emptied my "inbox". There were 4624 unread messages. That wasn't even a personal record. I once waited until there were over 15,000 unread messages. The computer made an audible sound as it erased the last of those. I couldn't decide if it sounded more like a belch or a fart.

Jessica, the token Communist on The Five, is so far to the left that I can't believe that Judge Jeanine hasn't kicked her ass yet.

The NFL is holding the Pro Bowl games this week featuring a mix of stupid contests. It will be capped on Sunday by a seven-on-seven flag football game. Somebody needs to put this dog down! Wait! Tell the NFL to invite Kristi Noem to Sunday's game. She will know what to do with this dog.

I haven't heard anything from Biden in the last eleven days. What's the appropriate amount of time to wait before announcing that he is actually dead?

On a more serious note, it is time to reduce the traffic at Reagan Airport in Washington, DC. The members of Congress will have to learn how to fly out of Baltimore or Dulles. Next, we need to end the use of military helicopters as taxis for government officials. Maybe if they could spend time in traffic jams and worrying about getting carjacked, they would be open to some improvements in the District of Columbia. Not to mention all of the money we would save on helicopter operations.

My wife's late brother was a helicopter guy. He started in the Army with Hueys and moved up to Chinooks. After leaving the Army, he worked for Lockheed in Saudi Arabia and then Kawasaki Helicopter. He told me that I didn't have the patience to fly a helicopter. I told him that while I appreciated his opinion, I wasn't leaving the ground in one of those things anyway.

I am in the process of testing my memory this week. I was cleaning out my files and found a bunch of pictures from my Casa Gallardo days in Greensboro.  I have about thirty pictures, and I am trying to remember some names to go with them. Those pictures date to the 1983-1985 era. I can write anything I want about those folks here. Those who can read aren't reading this swill.

Back at Casa Gallardo, I have a sign that was on the wall outside of the entrance and listed the operating hours. They have a Facebook page for that restaurant, but no one has posted in about two years. I won't bother sharing a picture. I can get ignored here, I don't need to go out.

It's the heart of college basketball season. I can't use enough profanity to tell you how little I care about basketball. "March Madness" is exactly that. I am mad because college basketball is all that is on the local news. Even at my age, there is life without a dribble.

Let's face it! The amount of athletic ability required for a guy who is almost seven feet tall to cram a basketball through a hoop set at ten feet high is about zero. If you want to see some real talent in basketball, let's move the basket to twelve feet high and the three point line to mid-court. Yeah, and let's start calling "traveling" again. I can't bear to watch the ball getting a full body massage as someone takes it down the court. These guys aren't just palming the ball, they are working on massage techniques as they stroll down the court. There have been a couple of times that I watched and expected the ball to light up a cigarette after a walk down the court.

I hope that Kamala Harris runs for Governor in 2026 in California. They deserve her. Old Kameltoe might be enough to kick California into the Republican fold. They could use the tax cut. Maybe we could get those fires put out?

One would think that a nation powerful enough to lead the world could find something better to do than watch the Super Bowl. 

Years ago, at work, we were talking about the Super Bowl that was going to be played that evening. One young man said, " I only watch the Super Bowl to see the commercials." I looked at him and said, "Aren't you the guy who subscribes to Playboy just to read the articles?" It's been twenty years and he's probably still trying to figure that out.

The divorce rumors are getting stronger. Is Big Mike leaving Barack for another woman? Or is he leaving her for another man? Inquiring minds want to know. The rest of us don't care.