Dairy of a Madman

At some point, these guys will accuse Hillary or Obama or someone close of having bad taste:

A supporter of Rudy Giuliani’s is throwing a party that aims to raise $9.11 per person for the Republican’s presidential campaign.

Relatedly, does anyone else think Rush LImbaugh might have done Sunday’s FAMILY GUY for trade instead of cash? Cause everyone knows those Hollywood animator types have access to all the best pills.

Source

This is the time of year, the time of day when everything should be perfect. When the noises inside the house have three hours silenced, and from the open window comes nothing but perfectly tempered air and the sounds of the creatures with Circadian rhythms as backwards as my own, the world should be an enveloping blanket in which I can get cozy and complacent.

But too many questions lately remain unanswered, not the least of which is what the point of all this is, if there even is one. And perhaps hearing authoritatively that question answered, “None”: I think sometimes that that would be enough. Not enough — sufficient, then, to allow myself room to just enjoy what there is while it is.

I’m tired of being inquisitive. I want to spend my days ignorant and unaware, blindly happy to make it one day to another.

Sadly, I see too well: you can stop looking for answers all you want, but the questions still arise, and burn, and poke and peel at the edges.

(and I wonder where my migraines come from)

Laugh-Out-Loud Cats #162

Originally uploaded by Ape Lad.

If only there were a Lovecraft Fish Market anywhere near me…

I miss Nuno Bettencourt. Who would imagine a Perry Farrell concert only drawing 200 people? I’ve slipped into a strange and guitar-weak universe. At least they’re playing Mountain Song. It’s not all bad.