Summer doldrums

Jimbo (Parkway Rest Stop) is complaining that his muse has left him and he can think of nothing about which to write. I’ve been feeling the same way the last few days. Call it the summer time blues (or blahs). When all the news in the papers and on air seems to be recycled bull flop (i.e. recession? I do not think it means what you think it means; global warming cooling change?; the public thinks Congress stinks....well, that's not bull flop, it's truth) and the biggest imbroglio is about who's got OB's nuts in a jar (Jesse or Michelle?) or whether some New Yorker editor is a complete know-nothing ass (isn't that part of the job description?) then it's real easy to draw blanks.

At least we learned he cancount to 100. Not bad for a lawyer.

A couple of chocolate vodka shots on ice will bring the muse running--or so I have heard.