I don’t really watch TV anymore, but I’ve had the misfortune of walking through rooms with TVs on at the exact time the Jimmy “J.J.” Walker Medicare ad airs.  God above, he is an odd looking fellow.  It’s starting to really get to me.  Something about the weird way be moves his arms…he’s kind of like a black Crypt Keeper.  I don’t ever want to see that commercial whilst in an altered state: that would be Too Much.
This wretched heat and smoke are probably the cause of this sudden hypersensitivity to Jimmy Walker.  It’s 115°F every goddamn day, and the air is so thick with smoke…it’s like a bad day in Burma out there, day after day.   It’s awful.  I watched an entire rafter of turkeys melt on my driveway yesterday.  Good Christ, dear reader…have you ever watched wildlife melt?  It ruined my entire day.  Even the lizards and snakes are seeking shade these days.  If I don’t lower my brain temperature soon, things could get truly weird.
Of course, I could double down, point the Panty Dropper south and punch it til I’m in Tijuana, even closer to the equator.  I couldn’t go last year due to The Virus, but this year, The Virus can kiss my ass.  I am full of vaccine and consumed by a ravenous thirst for all of the tequila hecho en Mexico.  I’ll have to do some dialing and see if there will be bullfights in August as usual, or are our southern neighbors still being plagued by the plague?  I may need to break my now-seven-month moratorium on the news.  Nah, fuck it.  Fuck the news.

N.P.: “Treat Her Right” – Billy Gibbons And The BFG’s