Jesus.  The Angst is upon me in a nasty way, it’s 140° outside…both street and sidewalk had melted by 16:00, and strange religious people keep showing up howling about how near The End is.  Who knows…maybe they’re right.  Wouldn’t be the worst thing.
In a sudden and unpredicted move, I decided to leave The Haunt today, and went for a drive in the Panty Dropper.  I got about half a mile before I saw a freshly constructed fireworks stand, which put in dark states of depression and piss off.  So I turned around and drove back home.

N.P.: “Time Has Come Today” – Ramones

What the hell happened to today?  It was just starting about an hour ago, and now, somehow, impossibly, it’s night.  Did that happen to you, dear reader, or is just another one of those weird “me things.”  Anyway, oh well, I guess.  Maybe tomorrow will stick around a little longer that today did.

N.P.: “We Gotta Get Out Of This Place” – D.O.A.

Just busy as hell today, exuberant reader.  Wrote a bunch.

N.P.: “I’m A Man” – The Spencer Davis Group

Heat Strike Day 3.  First day of summer.  Longest day of the year.  Conversely, the shortest night, natch.  I’m not happy about any of it, dear reader.  Just disgusting.  #fuckthesun

N.P.: “Ol’ Glory” – JJ Grey and Mofro

All activities cancelled once again today due to solar flares and intolerable meteorological villainy.  This is ridiculous…it’s like fucking Mogadishu outside.  I am on a heat strike.

N.P.: “Big Sugar” – Ride Like Hell

All activities cancelled today due to solar flares and intolerable meteorological villainy.

N.P.: “Middle of Nowhere (feat. Chad Kroeger)” – Big Wreck

Holy fucking shit, dear reader…it’s 126°F.  Birds are falling dead from the sky, and the otherwise robust air conditioning unit in The Shed is really struggling to make things habitable.  Word count is significantly higher than the temp, so I suppose that is a good thing, and especially impressive given this ridiculously oppressive conditions.

N.P.: “Insomnia 2021 – Epic Edit” – Maceo Plex, Faithless

Governor Dipshit has “reopened” California but inexplicably refuses to end the state of emergency he instituted as a result of the pandemic.  Section 8629 of the Emergency Services Act provides that the Governor “shall proclaim the termination of a state of emergency at the earliest possible date that conditions warrant.”

• He has failed to identity the “conditions of disaster or extreme peril” that justify a State of Emergency.
• He has said the emergency will remain because COVID has not “vanished.”  Does this mean he intends to keep it in effect until the case rate is zero?  Nobody’s talking, especial Governor Dipshit.
• He has failed to identify any of the metrics he’s using to determine that COVID cases are of a “magnitude” that is “beyond the control” of cities and counties.

Rather than addressing any of these questions, Dipshit has been busy working with a Pro-Dipshit campaign to attempt to get some if not most of the more than 2.1 million pissed off California voters who have Had Enough.  This campaign yielded one withdrawn signature (out of the 215,000 signatures in Orange County) by the time the deadline to withdraw signatures passed last week.  The truth is that without the extra powers provided by the State of Emergency, this idiot is done, and he knows it.

N.P.: “When You Fall” – Gary Numan

The first sunstorm of the season is imminent in The Creek.  At least four days of 115°F+ with lows at night dropping into the balmy mid-90s.  We are not amused.

N.P.: “L’école du Rock ‘n’ roll” – Faust 72

I was going to a bit of bitching here tonight, but I am just spent.  Did a lot of work today, most of which amounted to shit.  Did a little bit of work on the Irreparably Unpublishable Novel, but nothing great.  Mondays consistently disappoint.

N.P.: “Another One Bites The Dust” – Die Krupps