better?

Today.

Is that better than yesterday?

(Sweden naked? Down sex? FAT LADY KRISPY KREME?)

 

 

good thing they have all those anti-oxidants

Many Celestial Seasonings Teas, despite their claims at being “all natural,” have been found to contain unacceptably high levels of pesticides.

Of course, this is reported by a company that has “shorted” the company that controls Celestial Seasonings, so their interests lie in Celestial Seasonings stock falling, so who knows if it’s even really mostly true.

Their disclaimer even includes this sentence: “This report and all statements contained therein are the opinion of Glaucus Research Group California LLC, and are not statements of fact.

Oh. I see. So maybe not even partially true.

How does a report quoting a violation of pesticide standards fall under “opinion”?

Caveat emptor all the way around I guess.

beach sex, aka why bother?

And no, I’m not referring to it being a waste of time, or too much sand, or ILLEGAL.

Why bother writing thoughtful, insightful posts, with embedded video and attributed photos? Why spend the time to write about The Things That Matter, when most of the people-who-are-not-already-followers who seem to show up at my blog are drawn by the results of their searches for:

There’s one picture of a couple playing Scrabble at a nude beach. You can’t see anything. Get over it!

I don’t write about, post pictures of, condone, nor encourage any of the following: sex on the beach, beach sex, sex on beach, sex in beach (wha?), or naked sunburn in Italy (wha? wha?)

I’m going right now and deleting that post. If there is anybody left tomorrow I’ll keep writing.

Idiots

Which is worse?

This guy.

Or this guy:

http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/thu-april-18-2013/gun-control-whoop-de-doo

 

Am starting to wonder if it’s redundant to have Politics and Stupid People as separate categories.

 

I guess it’s okay, as long as it’s only partially

All I want to do is shake the hand of the person who wrote this caption.

 

little help?

Maybe it’s the limitations of my non-mathematical mind (I am “only” a musician, after all), but does the logic of this reveal itself to anyone out there?

Husband claims there’s some kind of complementary arrangement, as in, all of the days are covered. I think that the whole thing was created by some kind of a calendar-disabled sadist (a.k.a. administration). But maybe it’s just me.

THIS is beautiful

The man in the cowboy hat, Carlos Arredondo, immediately ran to the site of the first explosion at the Boston Marathon, leaping barricades to get to the injured.

He helped the man in the wheelchair shown below, Jeff, wrap tourniquets around his badly damaged legs (which have since been amputated), and didn’t leave his side until he absolutely had to.

The remarkable thing is that Carlos himself had tried to end his life in 2004 — when Marines came to his door to tell him that his son had been killed in Iraq, he barricaded himself in his car and set himself on fire. The Marines saved him. His other son, so distraught over and unable to recover from the emotional trauma of his brother’s death, eventually committed suicide. I imagine he has seen some dark hours. I can’t imagine how dark.

He spoke on NPR today with grace and humility. An awareness that if the Marines had not saved him in 2004 Jeff might not have survived on Monday.

Never mind thinness, or perfect features, or flawless skin. Never mind a perfectly honed body or shiny hair.

This man, and his heroic act, is beautiful.

The person or persons who planted the bombs, on the other hand, is the worst kind of coward.

Well, maybe not the worst — worst is someone who arms himself and shoots up a school full of children, and a Congress which refuses to act to try to prevent such a thing from happening again.

I’m almost too disheartened to write this. Am certainly too disheartened to try to make any sense of it all.

I am grateful to Carlos for his heroism, and to the paramedics who died rushing to the rescue at the fertilizer plant explosion, and to all who act in interests other than their own.

I only wish there were more of them, and many, many fewer of the cowards.