App of the Month

We are on a driving trip. Some smaller ports of call, but some larger ones as well.

Parking in a city like New York can be problematic. If you can find street parking, while there is always the issue of theft, break-in and scrapes, the bigger problem is alternate side of the street parking. This means every other day, you must find another parking space on the other side of the street.

Parking lots or garages can be a problem too. Just ask Ferris Bueller.

Seriously though - NYC garages are pricey! I remember when they were $26 per day. I would love to go back to those days. Many that I see now, you can get a great rate of $8.45................per half-hour!!

So, my cousin David steered me to ParkWhiz. An app that allows you to search for and book parking garages by rate. If you don't mind walking a few blocks, you can do pretty well. And it's NYC, it's all about the walking anyways, so what is 2.5 blocks?

The hotel we were staying at - you can park for $55 per day. That is a lot of beer!

Of course, anytime you let the hotel park your car the rate is jacked up. Last time we did it ourselves and I think we came out with a $37 per day.  We thought that was a deal.

ParkWhiz did better.

You select your preferred location (by dragging the map if needed) and enter the dates and time of your arrival and departure. It will bring up participating and available garages. 

Clearly, you can see there is a huge difference in price. 

We were staying on W. 54th, so I chose the $107 one. Hell, that's $26.75 per day. 

I booked the spot, I got the confirmation code and scanning data. We got the garage and boom - it was done. 

The garage was nice too - not one of those skeezy ones that it could have been. Hell, the first two parked cars were Maserati's  - so someone must trust these guys. 

The app is free, and even if I never use it again - it was totally worth it. 

Site of the Month

Simple. Easy. Mean.

Three adjectives to describe Donald Trump.

Of course, if he were describing you, it would be: Loser. Disaster. and....well.....probably Loser.

He doesn't haven't a huge vocabulary for his put downs, not that he doesn't put down folks all the time.

He's the schoolyard bully.

Let's face it - Trump is Scut Farkas from a Christmas Story.  A big talker until someone really takes him on. And then you see he's just a shell of a man.

Still, for those people you know who can take a joke - or for those assholes you know who cannot, the Trump Generator might just be the site for you.

Really - all you do is type in their name, choose 1 of 5 or so backgrounds and well.......then it gets a little tricky. You can send it to your Twitter account or link it to your Facebook account.

OR - you can do what I did, and just do a screen capture of it and I posted it where I want without linking the site to anything. Because if FB has taught me anything, that people are assholes when it comes to politics and taking a joke.

The Trump Generator will come up with its own derogatory tweet about the person you typed into the placeholder. Though to be honest - it might A tweet. I'm not sure it generates much more than "....is a total loser".  

I could be wrong.

Sure, it's low-brow, but it's Blobby's Blog. This ain't Shakespeare. It's not even Christopher Marlowe. It's Blobby!

My Music Monday

Shaking Tail Feathers is what we are doing this month - according to Erik. (not that he's participated in his own theme choice, mind you.)

I think it's fair to say, what I'd "dance" to, and what most people might would be considered very different.

There was a day, when one could go to Wall St. (my oh my, it's still in business and with the worse website ever!) on a Wednesday and dance to songs that no other gay bar would play. While the Cure might be a favourite amongst certain homos, back then, on a Saturday night, it wouldn't make a DJ playlist because the fags (oh yes, I went there) had to hear Black Box's "Ride on Time" for the 128th Saturday in a row - or worse CC + the Music Factory.  Cuz that never gets old.

But throw on a Smiths song and I was out there. It just only happened on Wednesday nights.  Ruckiry (not Jon's boss), I drank most weekday and weekend nights, so it wasn't out of the question that I might be there mid-week.

Now it is 25+ years later and Blobby doesn't go out to gay bars much, let alone ones where dancing takes place. The Smiths only exist on vinyl, but Morrissey is still putting out music - some much better than others.

A good Morrissey song will have me belting it out in my car or kitchen. And it's always appreciated while doing cardio or lifting - and none more so than his "That's How People Grow Up".

True to his style - Morrissey does go on about how lonely and miserable he is, but it still brings a smile to my face.  I mean, how can you not almost laugh at a lyric that say: "I was driving my car / I crashed and broke my spine / so yes there are things worse in life / than never finding someone's sweetie."

It never gets old. And only he can write stuff like that and truly get away with it.

So you might not shake a tail feather to this, but I would.  Just in my own way.

12 of 12

So I'm doing my 66th 12 of 12. 

Normally it is 12 pictures taken on the 12th of the month. Since I only post once per day, you get my images the following day. All pictures taken with my iPhone. Click images to enlarge, if you choose.

Created by Chad Darnell and picked up from, what I can tell, any number of random bloggers who then link back to him and vice versa. Chad is no longer doing this, nor is successor coordinating the linking of other 12 of 12'ers anymore. Now it's just Erik (and sometimes Jim) and myself - that I know of. 

I still continue to do this, because of all my consistent post topics, I actually like this one the most.

04:14. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. 

Naturally, I thought it was gunfire right outside our windows. Sad but true. It was pouring out, and someone was shooting? 

As it turns out it was a transformer blowing up two blocks away. I can't imagine what it sounded like next to those houses. 

 07:07.  No power. So 710 had to make coffee by heating water on the stove. Just like pioneer times.

He poo-poo'd my suggestion he go out to Starbucks. 

09:00. Petey walk. 4.5 hours after reporting the outage, the electric company showed up to fix it. There were downed live wires and all. 

09:45. Big Al's Diner for b'fast.  

The food is good. The service is beyond bad. 

14:15.  Road Trip!

Bags packed. Trunk loaded. 

14:40.  Saying bye to my sweet girl. 

I hate that she knows when we are leaving. 

 15:10.  Petey coming in for his boarding facility for the next few days. 

17:45. Crossing state lines. 

 19:27.  Driving past Beaver (hehehehe.......Beaver!) Stadium. 

We only went half-way on our road trip - and ended up in State College, PA. 

19:50.  Our hotel was pet-friendly. 

I wish we had them both with us. 

 20:30.  Note to self: do not throw head back in laughter whilst at dinner. 

21:55. At hotel. Gotta prep this post. 

Well Well Well

It's a quick Petey Porn this week. Didn't even get a good shot of his sister.

Petey at the vet for his wellness visit. 

Petey's probable last rabies vaccine.  

They last three years. I mean, I hope he's with us at 16-17, but you never know.  He's so frickin' handsome.  

In play mode. Hiding behind sofa cushions. 

Song by: John Lennon

Just a Memory

I am guessing this will be my second to last 9/11 post. Just a hunch.

I figured I'd do one for the 15th anniversary, next year. I don't particularly think this blog will be around at the 20th. I've been known to be wrong, but another six years of blogging seems daunting, at best.

 Anyhooo.........

This last December, we made it to the last of the 9/11 Memorials.

We'd been to the WTC site - any number of times - three weeks after the planes hit, a half dozen times during construction and once so far since that memorial opened.

Three and a half years ago we stopped by the Shanksville site.

Finally in 2014, we got to the Pentagon site. It was an over the river and through the woods things. Well - under the river, until the Metro dropped us at the Pentagon. But it was a long long walk around the building to get to the site.  Lots and lots of signs saying 'no cameras'.  I was not that deterred.

The space is nice. Considering.

The "considering" is that it is built basically adjacent to a parking lot. "Considering" it abuts the Pentagon itself. "Considering" you are under many a watchful eye because you are actually next to the Pentagon itself.

Flight 77, oddly enough, came in such a direction it probably did the least damage it could. Had it come any of the other four ways, parking lots, the Metro, shopping centers and freeways could have all been ruined with many more lives lost.  It went through an empty lots before hitting the building.

The Pentagon Memorial might not get a lot of tourist visitors, just due to the amount of walking one must do to get there. It's out of the way.  We were two of a half dozen on a cold December day. I liked that. I wanted to experience it without the throngs.

I love the meaning behind the design of such memorials.

I get that there are 184 "benches" for each of the military and civilian victims. Benches that seem to be facing toward the building are those of people on the plane. Benches seemingly facing away from the building represent victims in the Pentagon itself.

Benches are arranged from youngest victim (3 years old) to oldest (71). Each bench is marked with the victim's age and name. I'm not sure I liked that methodology, as people traveling or working together are split up, but it is kind of hard to come up with another logical way to represent them all.

There are pools of water underneath each bench - the length and width of the benches - and they are lit at night. I'm sure it is quite a site to see, though we didn't stick around until after sunset.

The surrounding wall goes from 3" to 71" - again, in correspondence with the youngest victim to the oldest.

There are free audio tours (download on your iPhone).

Actually, "considering" they did a nice job with the place, though GWB and Donald Rumsfeld's names are listed in the marble at the entrance, so that's a downer.

Oddly, picture taking wasn't truly prohibited. It's just not what I thought it would be, as it's almost impossible to take pics at the memorial without getting shots of the Pentagon itself.

It was this shot for which I got busted.....

The Air Force Memorial just up the hill, near Arlington.

It's not so much that I took the pic of the memorial, as much as it was I took it from the Pentagon parking lot. THAT is a no-no. The fear (?) is that you get a license plate of an employee of the Pentagon.

In the end, the cop didn't make me erase the picture (though I thought he would), so when he wasn't looking I was a dick and just did this......

I'm not a proud man.


But if you ever find your way to DC, I suggest making the trek to the Pentagon to see this.




Song by: Marti Jones

Breaking Apart

I'm at the point where I cannot tolerate stupidity.

For relationship's sake, I bite my lip more often than any of you would ever believe, let alone give me credit for.

As Facebook goes, I use it, mainly, to post silly pictures, or ones of Petey or of David and I at yoga. I've made a conscious decision to not (or rarely) post political things. Nothing good can come of that - at least if you have a cross-section of the public in your feed.

Unfortunately, I have friends and family who don't feel this way - and post the most right and left leaning things possible. All with little to no corroboration of fact, let alone balance. Because sure, you can post facts, but they only post certain ones, to get their 'point' across.

This infuriates me. But it is horribly common.

A friend was going on about Hillary Clinton and those g-ddamned State Dept emails. And yes, I get that she has fucked the 4-1-1 on this. She could and should have come out stronger on this subject - and really keep hammering about there was no policy against this, Colin Powell did the same thing....etc. But she didn't and the GOP are making hay of it.

This friend was trying to compare Gen. Petraeus' firing over misuse of email and classified material with Clinton. It's apples and oranges, really. But I kind of snapped and dashed off a semi-nasty response saying something similar - along with adding that GWB's RNC (no White House) server "lost" tens of thousands of emails and yet there was almost no press and certainly no investigation.

But then, the wasn't a woman. And mind you, my friend is. So, it's nice to have see misogyny amongst their own gender.

I pointed out that Petraeus was emailing info to his mistress who was also writing a book about him. And that the DOD wasn't the State Dept - different venues, different policies. And that Clinton dealt more with diplomacy and Petraeus with MILITARY SECRETS!

Their response:  have you seen his emails, his mistress or her book?

So, the other infuriating thing:  you can't reason with them. If I didn't see his emails, they don't exist. Yeah - well, I never saw subatomic particle, but they exist.    ......or do they??????

One of my cousins is the same way. I'm "this close" to blocking both of these people.

**********

And this whole Kim Davis thing. I'm done. I can't read or watch anymore. I just cannot.

This self-anointed prophet is too much for me. The followers, the press - mostly in gay blogs - just makes me feel self-loathing even reading it anymore.

While I applauded her being jailed, it's become some sort of martyrdom for her, and the voice grows louder. Though I did love how after her release, she stood between two men who spoke FOR her. But it's the GOP and a Hate Group.  Women are 2nd or 3rd class citizens with them - and they are using her to a T. But she's letting them, so they're all at fault.

I get that Huckabee needs a boost with his low low low poll ratings, so sure, he's making his move there.

What Huckabee does not get - nor any of them, nor are they asking - blah blah blah blah, religious persecution. She's being forced to do x, y and z.

No one - and I do mean NO ONE - has said, that Davis told her employees SHE would fire THEM, if they didn't do what she said because of her religious beliefs.  Where is their religious freedom? No one is making the argument that they are being persecuted by Davis herself. Huckabee certainly isn't.

So I've said it before and again - "mainstream media"?  "Liberal Media"?

Where?  Where are they?

**********

Trump. Palin.

Palin defending Trump on the "gotcha" questions.

One might argue that asking Trump his favourite bible verse was a gotcha question, except for the fact that he brought up religion and the bible. To quote any number of judges on Law & Order  "you opened the door, counselor...."

But the questions on ISIS and Kurd leaders and foreign policy are NOT gotcha questions. Trump is the fucking leader in any poll for the GOP - for the highest office in the fucking country. He had better have answers. But he didn't, so he turned it around and his little butt-girl getting her nose all brown for him.

And people are buying this shit hook, line and sinker.

**********

So while I'm not done with social media, I'm having a harder time engaging. I feel a little sad for some of these people (my "friends"), and while blocking / unfriending them is the easy way out, I'd like to think I am bigger than that. And that I can take in multiple sides of a story / argument before making up my mind............unlike them.



Song by: Chris Isaak

Do You Believe

I did another Believe In CLE yoga event last Friday at the Rock and Roll Hall O'Fame - a kick-off to the Labour Day weekend.

Maybe it's my last one, maybe not. I might say that every year. I might mean it every year.

If you wanted to wipe out the the largest group of the whitest women (ages 35-49) in the world, this would be the place - and they'd all be wearing yoga pants and drinking coconut water while it happened.

I will say - this event wasn't as bad as the last two for at least one reason. They do have a local speaker go on (and on and on) at the beginning, letting us know how great Cleveland is. Either they've all been given the same talking points, their perspective is all the same, or there is nothing new to say under the sun. But a city councilman was up this time and he made it brief and we got into our practice. So score 1 for him.

Though one of the instructors went on and and and on about the GOP convention here - like it was a good thing to have Republicans here. But she's from Westlake (which can be fairly conservative), so it wasn't really a surprise. Her imitating a stereotypical Puerto Rican woman (ala Rosie Perez) was a surprise....and offensive. Even to me!

Secretly, all day I was praying for rain, so it would give me an excuse not to go. Two people bailed on me earlier in the day - and I kind of envied them for doing so. Still, with the temps hitting 90 and little breeze, I made my way downtown, all by my lonesome.

I knew plenty people down there who asked me to practice with them, but I wasn't really feeling it. And by 'really feeling it', I just fibbed and said I was waiting for a buddy and found a place on the outskirts to do my flow by myself.

The practice itself was better than last year, but maybe not as good as year one. The music was definitely better than the last two years, but had someone put on a K-Tel compilation record from 1973, that would have been better than the previous two playlists.

The weather cooled slightly, but there was a breeze of the lake, so it wasn't as oppressively hot as it has been these last two weeks.

I enjoyed myself more than I thought I would. And I was happy to just be able to pick-up my mat and leave after the fact. No chit-chat. No making plans (or excuses) when it came to getting a bite to eat afterwards.

"They" say there were 2000 people there, but I don't think it was that many. First year there were about 1100 and last year "they" said it was 2200. Miraculously, at this session, they said over 3000 were there last year. "Someone" needs to learn how to count. Everyone has to sign-in, so it's not that difficult to get a fairly accurate count. Sure, some stragglers get through without putting pen to paper (I saw a woman and man pull up on a motorcycle, she got off practiced in the street, while he, in all leathers, watched), but not 800 of them.

Oddly enough, no food trucks this year. Maybe it was due to the holiday weekend. Maybe the group didn't really patronize the trucks last year enough to make it worth their while. I know I didn't purchase a thing.

I was happy to get home and have a very late dinner with 710 while Petey intently watched what he wasn't getting.

So, since I didn't decide to go to this until 75 minutes before it started, I can't say whether I'll go to the next one. As me 60 minutes before that one starts.



Song by: the Cardinals

T-Birds

Labor Day in Cleveland doesn't just mean the "end of Summer"*.

Almost every Labor Day weekend signals the Cleveland Air Show. I say "almost" because with the 2013 federal government budget cuts.

What it really meant was that either the USAF Thunderbirds or the Navy's Blue Angels couldn't perform, and without the jet-power, no one wants to come look as come crappy 1928 bi-plane.  I mean, let's be honest.

And depending on the year, we have either the Air Force's version or the Navy's.

This year it was the Thunderbirds.

Starting at least two days before the air show, they practice, and both the practice and actual show maneuvers brings them over our house - drowning out any silence for minutes at a time. And you rarely see them. By the time you hear them, they are usually long gone. Now and then, between the tall trees I catch a plane or two, but rarely all six.

I might even go down to the air show sometime, but this weekend was in the 90s and standing on black pavement didn't seem ideal for anyone.

The precision with which they perform is impressive, to say the least. So are they - or at least some of them.

Sunday night, we went out for pizza at one of the best Cleveland pizzerias, Geraci's. As we stat outside, waiting for our table - it was unusually crowded for a Sunday evening - two cars pulled in, containing three of the six Thunderbirds.

YOWZA!

All three had very nice bodies. All three wore uniforms that were tailored within an inch of their live. I'm guessing you could have traced every vein in their legs through their pants.

And yes, I mean EVERY vein.

Well, a boy can hope, right?

The shirts were crisp and tighter than tight. I'm guessing ironing isn't needed, as the fabric is stretched as far as it can be while gripping the arms, chest and abs. Any wrinkle would be smoothed out from constant tugging and pulling from various muscles - of which there were many.

Yes, all three were nice, but well, let's face it, one stood out. Far and beyond. Even 710's jaw dropped.

Me?  Well, I wondered how to capture him on camera without getting my face pummeled.

I was fighting a man in motion and a setting sun. It wasn't easy getting any pictures of him, let alone good ones. 

Ruckiry (not Jon's boss), he was engrossed by his phone most of the time he was waiting for a table. I joked to a friend he was on Tinder, but he said Air Force guys are pussies, so he was probably on Grindr.  Either way he probably made someone very lucky that night.

As luck would have it, he (well......they, I suppose) sat three tables away.

To be honest, I felt a little sorry for the guys. They barely got two bites of food at a time before being interrupted by a bevy of patrons. It's doubtful anything other than their first piece of pizza was even warm.

Or, I suppose the guy could have touched it and made it hot.

710 thought the T-Birds could have changed into civilian clothes, but I'm not so sure. I think the PR is part of their job. Required even, when they are at air shows like this. And they probably interest more people into the armed services than any recruiting officer setting up table in the high school cafeteria.

As it turns out, the uniform probably saves the military a fortune in meal costs.

The table next to us quietly purchased the trio's meal. That in turn got the oven chef to purchase the meal of the people next to us.

Everybody won........................except me.



Song by:  Blondie

My Music Monday

September's theme - thanks to Erik - is, and I quote, "songs that make you want to stop what you’re doing and get up and shake your tail feathers."

Apparently he thinks he is in the original Hairspray movie, or at least on the Corny Collins Show.

But I figured I could eke out four songs with that. Some might be embarrassing, but you never know.

I would be shocked - SHOCKED, I say - if Erik didn't have a B-52's song in his mix. I do. Actually, when he suggested the theme, I immediately landed on my first song:  "Give Me Back My Man", from the B-52's second album, Wild Planet.

While the B's had a 60's vibe to them, the video to "Give Me Back My Man" really personified it in a different way for them. Maybe it's the black & white.  Their look here isn't as wild as it was on their first album.

When we saw the band a few years back, I was hoping for - and got- them to play this song. Well, I wanted them to play a lot of songs, but this topped this list and they did not disappoint. It truly made my night.

And yes, when it comes on, the volume goes up and I shake my tail feathers as much as possible, depending on my location.

License to Kill

Another one of those license plate posts. Nonsense. Not Stuff.

There are so many "funny" ones, or inexplicable ones. Like this. It just keeps you guessing. Or thinking, at least.

Perfect Cup?
Puerto Rican Fuck Up?
Public Relations Fuck Up?
Perfect Fuck Up?

Either way, unless it's the first one, someone snuck something past the DMV



Song by: Elvis Costello

Friend of Mine

More life and times of Petey and Sophie.

They are what I live for, it seems. And that works for me.

Petey and some random meet-up with a new dog while walking in the park. 

Brother Boomer and Petey looking for food from me, while at my mother's house. 

 No idea why his head is under another bed, but it is.  If he's comfortable, that's all I care about. 

Petey greets frequent friend, Cody

Sophie in the window. 

Song by: the National

Time Passages

David, my cousin, will always answer to others when the question is poised, 'why it is we did not see each other for the good part of 30 years?'.

"They (meaning my portion of the tree) were the black sheep of the family", he'll say.

That would be funnier if it weren't so painfully true. Though it is humorous to David and myself - but probably only achievable due to time and the passing of generations. And the fact that we recognize it to be true.

There are lots of theories as to why we were the outcasts. No matter which one you choose, they all pretty much lead back to my paternal grandfather.

My great-grandfather (my grandmother's father) was, for all intents and purposes, a big-wig about town. Definitely in his community. I don't think it's any secret he was not fond of my grandfather nor the relationship of my to-be grandparents. For stories told though, my grandmother was one to buck her father - and wasn't thrilled with the idea of being the family great-grandfather (and great-great grandfather) had built.

Allegedly, she fled town ran away to hopefully become a Ziegfeld girl (or the equivalent of), before being dragged back to Cleveland by her ear by her father.

Her marrying my grandfather might have just been a big middle finger to her own father. Nothing would surprise me anymore.

All of this is conjecture, of course. No one of my parent's generation actually would or could discuss such things in 'the family', so everyone resorted to rumours. The same is probably true for the "good side" of the family. My cousin Bill would tell me stories he only heard, but never corroborated.

I'm hoping to sort some of it out - but it certainly won't be all of it.

As my mother divests of things, I've inherited picture books, scrap books and home movies from my paternal grandparents. My sisters do not want them. We were separated from the "good side" of the family for so long, they have no ties to them at all. That's not a reflection on my cousins or my sister, just the gap that was put into play 90+ years ago.

After my grandparent's deaths, there was no relationships really left with the rest of the family. It's a little sad, but it makes for a good story.

Anyhoo......it seems the scrapbooks start with my grandparent's wedding, and if the telegrams they received are the case, it was a surprise wedding - no doubt to throw off or spite my great-grandfather.  ....but we shall see.

I can totally see why people get hook on ancestry.com.  My grandmother's family has been great about keeping an updated family tree for as long as I can remember, so everything is traceable....except for the anecdotes.

I'm hoping these books will fill in some of the dots.




Song by: Al Stewart

She Hates Me

You know, I've kind of left this twat of a woman alone in this here blog.

Everyone else has been doing such an outstanding job at point out her political, religious and fashion flaws, that I haven't really felt the need to weigh-in.

I almost don't feel the need to point out her marriages, but I just did.

Hey, I said 'almost'.

I do feel the need to point out her getting preggers by her third husband, while she was still married to her first.

Yes, that's right. Married to the first, but got inseminated with twins by the man who would eventually be her third husband, even though the second one adopted those aforementioned twins.

If Kentucky is trying to be the poster child for Poor White Trash, they are giving Alabama a run for their money.  But as Cher said in Clueless in regards to being a 16 year old bride - "as if !!!  this is California, not Kentucky!"

Now did anyone actually think this woman (do I even need to say her name?) was going to comply with the local, state or federal rulings against her? I love she wasted time appealing to SCOTUS when she (well, her hate group handlers) so vehemently said, even before the appeal, that SCOTUS was a joke and not to be taken seriously.

Mind you, she'd be fine with SCOTUS if rulings went her way.

But they didn't.

And through this all there are two things I don't get.

Well.....I don't get many things, but that's a different topic for a different day, isn't it?

One
I get she can't be fired. She's elected. But where is the state or voters in recalling her? KY does understand that with the federal rulings they are losing are costing them money, not this woman, not even her department (or county probably). And now that some of the same-sex couples (and opposite sex couples) and the ACLU are suing her, and the department, well, they're already adding on to the $2.3M costs KY has to pay for fighting the original SCOTUS case.

So where are big guns, the party leaders, the state leaders, to either force her out with discussions, or to get a recall motion going?

Maybe I'm wrong here, but is there zero support for same-sex marriage in her county? Is no one stepping up to the plate because they're all like her?  I mean, she dresses like a sister-wife, so maybe they're all related. It is Kentucky. (see: twins, first, second and third marriage.)


Two
No marriages at all in the county.

Here is what I don't get - and could be the central part of any opposing case against this cunt. Yes, there. I said it. She's a cunt.

She is denying all marriages, because she opposes the same-sex ruling. So she's treating everyone equally. Isn't that she's actually fighting against?

Why?

If her religious convictions are so strong, she should support "traditional" marriage as strongly as she opposes same-sex marriage. So in turn, she should be granting licenses to one man-one woman.

Her not doing this shows this isn't a religious issue at all. Call it a hate issue. Call it a political issue. But it's not religious.

I get it (well, kind of) if it is a political one - and only political - that you'd stop issuing marriage licenses to everyone. But if it is religious - and only religious - you have zero ground to stop issuing all marriage licenses, just the ones with which you disagree.

Her argument isn't valid. Personally, I think she opens herself up to more lawsuits from straight couples than the four same sex couples who probably live in that county.

And I hope she does.

As soon as she's out of there - and it's just a matter of time - though her 15 minutes of fame has long since expired - I expect to see a gofundme campaign set up for her, where she'll end up with more money than the Beverly Hillbillies.



Song by: Puddle of Mudd

Cooking with Blobby

In the never-ending quest for a good pasta / mac & cheese, this last time, I went with a New York Times recipe.

It seemed easy enough. It seemed relatively quick  - what's not to love?

Cooking takes most of the time. But while the pasta boils you can prep the cheeses as need be.

Actually, the NYT has been giving me a few great ideas lately. You'll probably be seeing those soon.

But for this.....well...........

Farfalle (Macaroni shells) - 1lb
Eggs - 3
Cream Cheese (room temp) - 4oz
Brie - 6oz (remove the rind)
Mascarpone - 1 C
Parmigiano-Reggiano - 3/4 C (grated)
Nutmeg - 1/4 t
Black Pepper - 3/4 t
Unsalted Butter

Pre-heat oven to 375.

Boil pasta as directed, but to the al dente level. 

While pasta cooks, combine eggs, mascarpone and Parmigiano-Reggiano 

Drain pasta and place into bowl. Add the cubed cream cheese and cubed brie. 

Let the heat of the pasta melt those two cheese  - stir and combine until all is creamy. 

Add the egg and cheese mixture as well as nutmeg (which I skipped) and pepper - combine with pasta until fully incorporated. 

Place into buttered baking dish (2 quart). 

Bake for 30 minutes. 

It's thick. It's a little heavy. And actually, I liked it better the next day when I heated it up for lunch. It's good, but I think I'm still searching for the ultimate - which might not even really exist.

Vanishing Point

It's happened before. It will happen again.

I've stopped counting the number of times I write about accidents in front of our house, and I've certainly stopped counting the number of accidents themselves, since you might only hear about 1-2% of them anyways.

The crash and bangs happen a few times a week, but normally, and inexplicably, they keep going. The motorist loses control, hits the barrier wall, bounces off and usually keeps driving. Sometimes they try to keep going and find out they can't and just pull to the side.

Then, the ones you hear about mostly, are the ones that end up in our yard. Oddly enough, this isn't one of those tales.

I woke around 04:30 to the post-sounds of an accident. I didn't hear the accident. I didn't even hear the sirens (but to be fair, sometimes when there is little traffic, they won't use them, as to not disturb folks). But I did hear the unmistakable rumble of idling diesel engines of fire trucks and rescue squads. My brain is wired that way.

Sure enough, flashing lights, flares, the works. I went back to bed for a while, but a thunderstorm woke me up shortly thereafter. And I was up for good.

At 07:10, another crash made 710 (yes, this true) jump out of bed. There was a crash on that new(er) cement island I've referenced before. A car and by the time I got to a window, a few people milling around.  I went out to the end of the drive to see a second car limping onto our street. The guy got out, holding his head in his hands - more in pain than disbelief.

Since everyone from the other car was on their own phones, I figured they were calling things in to the appropriate authorities.

Silly me.

10 minutes later, 710 decides to call the police. Since we live where we live, the first PD said it wasn't their jurisdiction (though it is). So we called Cleveland, who - wait for it - said it wasn't their jurisdiction (which it isn't), but they at least took the notice, where as Cleveland Hts hung up after relaying their message.

20 minutes later, a patrol car finally arrive. 20 MINUTES.  Even though we said there was at least one injury. g-d forbid anyone was bleeding out or anything. And for frame of reference, you can get anywhere - ANYWHERE - in Cleveland Hts in 20 minutes. And the police department is maybe five minutes from us. And it was Sunday at (now) 7:23 when we called it in. So not a high traffic day.

So, just being the Mrs. Kravitz that I am, I walked out to see if it was CHPD or CPD who actually showed (it was the former). But it was then I noticed something odd.

Every single car was empty. Every single person involved in the accident was gone. Vanished.

I walked up to the officer (not cute in any way, shape or form - just my luck!) and he confirmed no one was around. I told him what I had seen, and that we called it in. It was then I found out we were the only ones who called it in.

So all those folks on their cell phones?  Jonesing for other rides. Calling Uber to get them out of there and quick.

What strikes me as odd is that both car occupants were gone. All took off. No one calling to file a police report - even for insurance purposes.

Ok - I get it, I truly get it. Like the last time someone fled an accident at our house, I'm assuming:

- not their car(s) (borrowed / stolen)
- not sober in any way
- no license
- no insurance
- outstanding warrant for their arrest
- some of the above
- all of the above

But what are the odds that would be with both drivers?

Both cars were inoperable (you can see the perpindicular wheel in the title image). The second car had two baby seats in them. It also had two busted out windows, two flat tires and a hood that was smashed.

My CSI abilities led me to believe that the second car rear-ended the silver car, making it hit the 6" high island (causing the wheel damage) and knocking it onto the island himself. The second car, went across the island (see the tire marks?), took out the sign and crossed the road, limping into our street.

At least it didn't go into our yard.  Again.

I'm always more amazed these accidents don't t-bone another car (like the white VW) as our yard in on the other side of that VW.  To be fair, an accident like that will be the only way they'll do something about safety on the street. Someone has to be killed first.

I did my duty and filled out the police report. Someone came and towed the cars away. I'd love to know the outcome, but I'll never hear a thing.

Later, Sunday night, while waiting to fall asleep, I pondered to 710:  "do you think the Rapture happened and we were just left behind?" 

His only reply before turning out the light: "what does that say about us?"



Song by: New Order