Cursedtina Fearios

Once a year the NYT reprints its article about how to sleep on a plane and every time it fails to answer the question of how can I sleep if there’s no one to take my shift keeping the plane’s engines running with my mind?

A thing I dislike enough to start a new American Revolution is when someone I don’t care for anyway gets a taste of British slang and starts going for it. It’s a slippery slope from “wanker” to “tickety boo” and I will cover this harbor in tea with my anger.

“He’s got the White House looking like Saddam Hussein opened up a Cheesecake Factory” — Obama

The upcoming reboot of “Spring Awakening “ is gonna be lit.

Getting Syracuse theater news on my Google suggestions, can’t imagine why, @joanmcguire.bsky.social. Adorable story, check it out www.syracuse.com/entertainmen...

It’s Couch Jawa Season for those of us who are cozy but thrifty.

Honestly feel Amy Acton could pull a lot of votes by stating “Like many of you, my mother is an absolute piece of shit.” Let’s get that no contact adult children vs. toxic narcissist parent war going!

The old maxim that when one sense is dimmed another is enhanced works on rich people’s vulnerabilities. Their sense of material want is utterly extinguished so their sensitivity to slights and exclusions that can’t be remedied with money is greatly amplified. Shun accordingly.

The stadium I live in finally turned the scoreboard back on after the utter shellacking last Saturday. I assume this is exposure therapy for the team. Expecting this morning’s pump up jam to be “In the Arms of an Angel.”

This is Billy Evans’ Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.

you can have whatever body you want at the age of 42 if you start robbing graves now

“Your honor, doesn’t Melania deserve a nice golf course to be buried off to the side of?”

Staying up late waiting for the tidal wave of contrarian takes on “You Can See Everything.”

Twenty twenty twenty four hours to goooo… Dodging spoilers for Fielder’s film

Can’t Elon just jump Snake River like men did in the olden times?

I keep getting into my BFF’s glass mosaic supplies to no good effect (ow) so she is redirecting me to papier maché for holiday crafting with this.

My dog is not a coward so when the mobile groomer rang the bell he merely remembered he had pressing business under the dining room table.

Stadium pump up jam at the moment is “In the Air Tonight” so I assume air drumming is a core football skill.

It may be a mark of how I was raised to show respect or it may be them: I was thinking about how much I value my longtime online friends. How much? My immediate thought was “I’d pay for their bail.”

Except for the ever punitive Sun Chips, I never see any familiar brand in the airline snack basket. Is this where new products go to get given away, hoping to become the next Biscoff?

“Come back to Twitter, where CEOs talk about Pikachu” has all the appeal of “there’s a great Drag Brunch at the slaughterhouse.”

Gritty reboot of “Frankenstein,” only this time Victor Frankenstein has a multimillion dollar contract with the government so when his creature goes rogue, oh well.

So apparently Mike Flanagan’s interminable “Carrie” reboot is just a back door pilot for a 70’s style misunderstood monster on the run show?

I wonder if it’s painful for Vance, a guy who had to really strive to get his smarts recognized and rewarded, to have to play dim bulb in press conferences. This is try hard hell and I hope it stings.

There has been a grand expansion in celebrations of usual life events of late. A wedding is now preceded by a proposal to-do, engagement party, shower, bachelorette weekend, etc. Don’t get me started with births. Anyway, it would be easier on everyone if we just went back to Saint’s Feast Days.

Today’s “huh” in the stadium pump up jams playlist: “When Doves Cry.”

Accidentally took the greatest picture of Slouch ever just now.

Listening to BLARF, “Film Scores for Films That Don’t Exist.” Eric Andre, like Steve Martin before him, proving the silliest comics are also musical fancy fellas.

You wanna bum yourself out, contemplate what the current politics of the “Steel Magnolias” women would be.

There was a murder-suicide just up the hill from me this morning and the public comments are fixated on it having an Oakland address (even maps are inconsistent on this, the border is goofy). Oh sure, once there’s a homicide it’s the Oakland Hills, how convenient for your stats, Lord Berkeley.

Christian and the dog have been out traveling for a couple days and my cats have stopped feigning indifference and are hysterically imploring “just tell us where you hid the bodies, man! They deserve a decent burial!”

Glass Ceiling: barrier keeps women and minorities from rising to the top Glass Cliff: chasm into which women and minorities are plunged when promoted Glass Elevator: device entrapping Charlie with your liability for killing and maiming the other children on a factory tour

look, if you're worried about being remembered, don't try to pursue immortality or whatever, the smart move is to start selling substandard copper and then make sure anyone who complains deposits a physical copy of that complaint in a site that will later be archaeologically significant