Too late. His election and the failure of the recall vote were the politcal equivalent of burning the warranty in the sink and eating the receipt.

...yes.

And the Huey Lewis cd. And the best business card you have.

There is not enough bourbon on this sidewalk to allow me to parse this line of thinking.

I’ll see your “I Wish I Was Your Lover” and raise you a “Tom’s Diner”:

The quartermaster of the Union Army was tasked with picking the ground for a new military cemetery in 1863 (I believe). His son’s body having recently returned from the battlefront, he picked the house of Robert E. Lee, commander of all Confederate forces, whose home was behind Union lines. Lee would never return…

Saturday night, no drinking to make up for getting toasted at a concert last night.

So, she’s a Pastafarian?

Hmmm...

Bless you.

Or flakka. Or...what’s that one that makes your skin fall off? Y’know, the one from Russia, I think it’s named after crocodiles.

...I know.

Tom Waits covers?

Romani ite domum

If The Fantasticks has taught me anything, it depends on what you pay.

Same goes for sterilization and castration...perhaps a face tattoo of a badly drawn dick?

Icepick lobotomies are looked down on, these days.

If you liked Making Mirrors, track down his first album—Like Drawing Blood. Jumps around in genre, but still keeps the same strong voice throughout.

Of course the Mad Hatter wouldn’t give a blowjob. That whole tea party scene has a water sports subtext.

Wow, just like how I learned how to whistle.