CRUNCH TIME

I find myself looking for a subject to write about literally at the 11th hour. It's 11:06pm and I have yet to put an entry in the Bastille. The recent reaching of a watermark in life made me decide to show some discipline in life and my profession of writing by doing daily entries in this blog o' mine. The thing is I have to be short, which for a long winded SOB like myself is like asking Montana Fishburne to not do something embarassing, but alas (you just don't get to use 'alas' as much today), I will. My wheels spin as I try to decide if I should political and talk about political sh** slinging President Obama is enduring while his Dems sit on their hands and testicles. Then I could speak of the exciting first weekend of college football games, but my audience would be whittled down to one, ME. I could do an observation piece on this homeless gentleman, who works outside the pharmacy, but that is so Steve Lopez and even with the book, Robert Downey Jr, Jamie Foxx and accompanying film, The Soloist didn't do well. So as my eardrums ae tickled by the sounds of Steely Dan's Peg, I realize there is not time to hem and haw (a phrasing my elder family members use) and write something interesting. So, I shall leave you with my true feelings (as seen above), since I am pissed at giving you this sham of an entry.

Now Follow Me! Follow Me to Freedom!