It’s not Halloween without The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!
And it can’t be The Great Pumpkin, without the Great Pumpkin Waltz, by Vince Guaraldi.
Happy Halloween!
It’s not Halloween without The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!
And it can’t be The Great Pumpkin, without the Great Pumpkin Waltz, by Vince Guaraldi.
Happy Halloween!
(I think I’m starting to peak now, Al…)
Do you know who Tina Peters is? Long story short, she was a MAGA county clerk in Colorado who help a person break into Dominion voting machines after the 2020 election. She has been unrepentant in her actions, has even become a semi-celebrity in ultra-conservative conspiracy circles. Well, she got put on trial for the crime of breaking into voting machines, was found guilty in August, and was sentenced the other day. Below is the video of the judge sentencing her, and also laying out a very good case of why these conspiracies and the people who propagate them are extremely dangerous to our democracy.
https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.jsYou guys have to watch how this judge put MAGA Tina Peters in her place for trying to steal the election for Trump by hacking Dominion voting machines.pic.twitter.com/gVZwfqOiqq
— Alex Cole (@acnewsitics) October 4, 2024
So, the new season of Great British Baking Show started last week, and I may or may not write more about this season. Or I may wait until it’s all over with to write about it, or I might not write about it at all. Either way, for me and the wife, the lead up to the new season means that we go through and watch the past seasons. Funny the things we remember and the things we forget. The one thing that I remember and never changes is that Sandi Toksvig was the best host of that show, hands down and unquestioned. But the things we forget, like who won, and who made it to the finals, we very often misremember (is that a word?) those details. I would have to say that I am 50% when it comes to remembering who won a season, or who got voted out on a certain episode. But I will never forget the awful mispronunciation of the word “taco.” Paul kept calling it a “Tack-oh.”
I now have a pair of pants whose color name is “Nantucket Red.” (I am aware that Nantucket Red is a specific type of pant from Murray’s Toggery Shop in Nantucket, and what I am referring to is a pair of red pants I got in a thrift shop a month ago, but the tag called the pant color by that name.) I like the pants because they fit well, and go with several shirts that I own. Yes, there is a WASP-ness to the pants, which I feel I pull off ironicy. But at the end of the day, they are a pair of red pants, which can feel like a bold step for a person as modest as me. The only other guy I knew who proudly had a pair of red pants was the comedian/improv performer down in the Lower East Side. He was funny enough for a guy who was 22, right out of college, and trying to make their way in NYC. And his thing was the red pants. He always had the red pants on, and would tell people he always wore these red pants. I took it to mean that he wore the pants when he was out performing, like a costume. No, his girlfriend confirmed that he wore the pants all the time. He even wore them in the shower to “wash” them, she said. I still think it was a bit.
Dear Dingleberry,
You already know that I consider you to be an asshole from the title of this piece, so I thought it best, in the hopes of keeping this letter active and engaging, that I come up with some other descriptive names for you; such as rat faced monkey butt.
Yet, I feel I should get to the point. For you, you near sighted stinky weasel, stole my umbrella that was wet, and drying outside of my apartment’s front door. You might not be aware of this, you waste of carbon, but theft is frowned upon. In fact, as this is a small building with a limited number of people living here, we all know each other rather well, and stealing from the front door of your neighbor, is a cardinal sin around these parts.
I understand why you did it, you simple minded amoeba, it was raining outside, but that doesn’t justify your actions. If you wanted to borrow and return the umbrella, I would have agreed to that, for I am a neighborly neighbor, unlike you, a stain left on the floor.
But, you did not do that.
You saw an opportunity, and took it believing that there would be no repercussions to this action. The actions of a poop smelling little person.
I know that there is a good chance that one of my neighbors did not do this, because as I had mentioned before, we do look out for each other in this building. We help each other move heavy things up and down the stairs, water each other’s plant, feed each other’s animals, delivery packages and mail, and most importantly, hold doors open and say hello. NO, my neighbors are good people.
You, assclown, most likely don’t live here, and maybe thought you would never come back here, or if you do come back, so much time will have past that no one will care that you swiped an umbrella from someone’s door step.
Ah! You figured wrong; you chunk of ear wax! You couldn’t have imagined that “the power of words” would come after you in this wildly passive-aggressive letter! Yes, the pen is mightier than the sword, but a baseball bat to the shins is even better!
And with no due respect; please burn in hell. Forever, if you wouldn’t mind,
Matt Groff
P.S. – Bruce knows what I’m going through…
For my group of friends back in 9th grade, we all stayed home the night NIRVANA played Saturday Night Live. I had to go look it up, but it was January 11th, 1992 – I was fifteen with a bad haircut. I remember thinking that I needed to see this because it was what all of my friends would be talking about on Monday morning. I also remember thinking how edgy and dangerous they looked. Not sure why I thought that, maybe it was the red hair.
I don’t know what happened to me this weekend, but all the stuff I normally pay attention to, I completely spaced out on.
It started on Saturday, when Tottenham played Arsenal. You know, their top rival, the team they hate. These matches even have their own title, “North London Derby.” Since I started follow Tottenham, these games have been a big deal, usually both teams are in a “need to win” position, and the games are exciting and dramatic. This Saturday, totally spaced on it. Just forgot.
Same thing happen on Sunday, when I spaced on the Cowboy game against the Saints. But to be honest, the Cowboys played so bad, it was better that I missed it.
And because comedy and drama both follow the rule of three…
Then Sunday night, I forgot about the Emmy’s. When my wife pointed out that they were on, even my kid was surprised that I wasn’t watching them. (I am a sucker for an awards show.) It was like the Emmy’s snuck up on me and then I ignored them. (Though I did get to see that very weird Johnny Walker backstage bar moment.) Oddly, I had watched most of the shows that were nominated this year, so I sort of did know what was happening.
Not that any of this really matters in the big scheme of things, yet I still found it odd that I whiffed on three events that normally are rather important to me. Such as I make plans to watch them. But for some reason, I missed all the ads for these things, or I missed the conversations about these things. It left me feeling like I was running behind everybody else.
Just odd is all.