Why Must I Be a Cisgender Millenial in Love?

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Don’t laugh. Back in the 1960s they used to have off-Broadway plays with titles like that. We used to hear about them.

So here it is, Memorial Day weekend, and it’s raining steadily all day, and tomorrow, and it’s too cold to go outside without your winter coat… hot dog! Blobal Gorming! Climbit Change! Cthulhy fhtagn! Quick, give the government more power! And more of our money! If we give them enough, they’ll save us. Please pay no attention to those record low temperatures. (Dammit, Zuckerberg said he was gonna censor those!)

How do you round up enough random thoughts for a random thoughts column? It looks so easy when Thomas Sowell does it!

The other night somebody unfurled a huuuuge banner from the stands at Yankee Stadium, which read: TRUMP WON, Save America. Right on, kimosabe. Even in New York they know that election wasn’t kosher. Almost makes me want to be a Yankee fan again.

It would be easier to jot down and publish random thoughts if you didn’t have censors and ban artists breathing down your neck. You’ll have to read my mind for some of these.

Ah, well. Don’t forget our porch party, which I’ve moved ahead to tomorrow to give us time to imagine more stories and games and snacks. Don’t worry about the weather; the imaginary weather will be just fine.

And here’s a cute little axolotl to speed you on your way.

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Let’s Start the Party!

Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s Christmas Day! Christ our Savior is born! So we whoop it up.

As of this moment, we open the doors to my imaginary Victorian mansion to all who wish to attend our cyber-Christmas party. That’s me on my imaginary harpsichord. I hope somebody brings an accordion. You can’t have a polka without an accordion.

Come one, come all! They won’t let us get together for a normal Christmas, and everybody I know lives so terribly far away–but to the imagination, all distances are imaginary. So let’s get together for good cheer, good food, fun and games and singing–and who wants to join me on the porch for a good cigar, while we watch the snow come down? Don’t worry, we won’t have to shovel it.

I’ve given Crusty the butler the day off, so just open the door and announce yourself–with a comment–and come right on in. Let’s see how many of us we can can jam into our cyber-living room.

All pets are welcome, too.