I know that you are all lying awake worrying about why I haven’t written recently.
Well let me give you comfort. I have nothing of interest to say.
Since January 20th my fear of America going down the toilet has lessened considerably even with those nuts doing what they did to the Capital.
I’m spending much of my time going on line trying to get a vaccine. I’m 77 so I better get one soon or….
The rest of my day is spent watching Bridgerton, well parts of it.
Much of my family finds this reprehensible, not you Marcia or Cheryl.
That’s nothing new though.
My Housewives of many lands addiction has put me at the bottom of the brains list in my family for years.
Since I have a little extra time I use it to plan my exit.
Remember I said I’m 77.
I’m thinking of offering a place in my will if either my Doorman or my Superintendent will tattoo my face somewhere on their bodies when I die.
Probably it won’t be my Super because his tattoos are shit.
They look like he did them himself when he was drunk.
But my Doorman, he’s got his tattoos going.
On his back he has a lovely portrait of 3 of his 6 children.
It seems like slipping my face in there would only enhance it.
The man is constantly in the hospital with one thing or another yet he had time to have 6 kids.
I’ve often commented that the only thing that works on him is his dick.
I’ve spent enough time on this blog.
The Duke awaits.
That isn’t to say that I can’t give you some Zen