Friday evening -

Bizarre. Curtis (from three years ago) started calling tonight, the married guy who was saying he wanted to meet up started calling; both phones were ringing one after the other. Crikey.

Dinner was at the Hobbit cafe - which was good (food wise) and disappointing (service wise.) I'm just wiped out, mostly. Chuck is snoozing on the sofa, Jackie's snoring on the floor and Barney's in the laundry room. We're screening another crappy movie - with the Owen brothers in it. Chuck's not too engaged in it; he's just snoozing. I've been surfing for Marvin stuff (and hoooo boy did I find some) and otherwise occupying my time with mindless research. I did find a FABULOUS 2006 VW Beetle TDI manual white with WHITE upholstery. Very fun.

I think I'm going to take the dogs outside and see what quick end to this movie can be created.

Friday reflections

It's 18:30, and I'm waiting for a tax client coming at 19:00. His stuff is all done, and he just needs to pick and pay. I should probably vacuum before they get here.

I've been working through all day today - not laboring intensively or anything, but just getting it done all day. I pumped out about 15 pieces of mail, got a bunch of paper off my desks, got myself lined out for future work, did some cleaning and organizing, found that Max sells recycled toner cartridges for my printer at $20 off retail, blah, blah, blah. Tomorrow needs to be another very productive day.

I determined today that my favorite client is NOT the same person that I had nudie pics of from someone in New Orleans. Well, I still think it's him, but he says it's not. He did admit to being friskier in his youth. That was, of course, only a few years ago.

Yesterday, if I blogged, I had a call from the lad with the 18" biceps. He brought over his GORGEOUS girlfriend; she has an amazing figure, great hair, beautiful face, everything going on - for a loan application. While she was sitting there talking to me about her loan, he was making eyes and trying to flirt (marketing?)

Anyway, today, I called over there to tell her that I had worked up her loan and was sending her a packet of information - he answered (and his name is NOT Will, according to the DPS) and blah, blah asked if I was going out tonight? No, not that I know of. I did allow that he could call later if he chose to.

Okay, tax client here, gone and paid. Now, is the married guy coming by (as he says he is,) or should I just go hit dinner with Chuckeroo?

Dinner wins. Chuck wins. Enough already.

Tuesday developments

Went to the doctor's for my monthly visit; their BG meter reads about 30 points lower than mine does; I guess I need to check and see about recalibrating it.

While there, I had the nurse prac freeze off a bunch of skin tags that had been annoying me. Now, I just ache. Yowie. I have never had anything frozen off before and it's ouchie. I need to focus on doing some work here, and I am just being a baby right now.

Got an email coupon from a VW dealer for $1500 off any new VW in stock. Hm. They have one Beetle TDI 5 speed and ten-ish Jetta TDI 5 speeds. 40 mpg. The new beetle may be the least expensive car to own on the planet. The Phaeton that I want is the most expensive (probably) at a dollar a mile for annual use, exclusive of interest costs.

Thinking, thinking, thinking - and I have some work to do for this afternoon. Some of it thinking work, some of it work work. More later.

Monday post #2

Doctor's appointment in the morning; I shudder to think what that's going to be about.

I'm watching "Closer." It's lame. It has Clive Owen in it, but .. even his charm and appeal fades in comparison to the lame-ness of the story.

There is a huge spider that is just walking around the living room floor.

I just spent some time fiddling around on the volkswagen.de website. Ooof! What one can get on a Phaeton there in Germany. Holy cow. Inlaid custom woods, leather seat piping, a refrigerator in the rear seats, rear seat DVD, nearly anything one could want.

I'm tired, so I think I should nuke this stupid movie and hit the sack.

Monday, Monday ver. 721.01

Fred Phelps is gay

Feb. 26, 2006, 9:09PM
LEONARD PITTS JR.
What's behind pastor's anti-gay messages?

By LEONARD PITTS JR.
Knight Ridder Newspapers

Allow me to share with you an epiphany. I think Fred Phelps is gay.

Not that I'd have any way to know for sure, and not that there's anything wrong with that. But it seems obvious to me that Freddie has spent a little time up on Brokeback Mountain, if you catch my drift. I'm thinking he's secretly into show tunes, interior decorating and man-sized love.

Granted, that's not the first thing that comes to mind when you talk about the Fredster, who is defined by an apparently pathological hatred of all things homosexual. Perhaps you remember how his followers desecrated the funeral of Matthew Shepard, the gay college student who was beaten and left to die on a prairie fence in Wyoming eight years ago. They showed up at the funeral bearing signs that said, "God Hates Fags."

Now Phelps has updated his act. His "thinking," if you want to use that word, is that the casualties of the Iraq war are divine retribution for this country's tolerance of homosexuality. So, he says, thank God for the IEDs, improvised explosive devices, that have sent so many American soldiers home in dead and broken pieces.

Phelps' followers — he pastors a church in Topeka, Kan., where most of the congregants are members of his family — have been showing up at military funerals to express this view. Picture it: As your son, sister, wife, brother is being consigned to the soil, these idiots pop up with signs, loudly celebrating his or her death.

Small wonder the state of Wisconsin enacted a law last week banning protests at military funerals. Or that more than a dozen other states are moving in the same direction.

Phelps has vowed to fight the restrictions on First Amendment grounds, and the unfortunate truth is that he has a point. His message is bizarre, grotesque and calculated to hurt, yes. But the Constitution carves out no exception for messages that are bizarre, grotesque and calculated to hurt. The right to freedom of speech is a precious thing that extends even here.

At this point, you're probably saying to yourself that next to this guy, Pat Robertson is a model of statesmanlike restraint. You probably think he's crazy. And not ordinary crazy, mind you, but 20 pages, typewritten, single-spaced, both sides of the page with scribbles in the margins crazy.

Well, I don't think he's as crazy as he seems. Heck, nobody could be. No, he's not disturbed. He's just gay.

Hear me out. How often have we seen public moralists railing against that which they themselves secretly indulge? Think Jimmy Swaggart with his prostitute. Think Dr. Laura's pose in the nude. And for goodness' sake, how many times have we seen homosexuality condemned by those who turned out to be closeted themselves? There was Pat Robertson biographer-turned-gay-activist Mel White; Spokane Mayor James West, who spent his days opposing gay rights and his nights in gay chat rooms; and Gary Cooper and Michael Bussee, who founded a group that purported to cure people of homosexuality but gave it up when they fell in love with each other.

Consider all that, and then consider the sick ferocity of Phelps' attack:

God hates "fags."

Gays are vomit-eating dogs.

Gays are "worthy of death."

Can you say "self-hatred," boys and girls? Come on, isn't it obvious? The poor fellow is gayer than a Bette Midler AIDS benefit. In San Francisco.

He needs not our condemnation but our understanding. Maybe someday he'll find the strength to stop living this lie. He might just go on to be the greatest gay-rights activist this country has ever known. Maybe then, in the arms of the right man, he'll stop hurting.

Kind of chokes me up to think about it.

Of course, the Fredster will deny all this. He might even call me unpleasant names. Hey, that's his right. We may not see eye to eye on much, but on one thing we agree.

Freedom of speech is a wonderful thing.

lpitts@herald.com

And a joke from Larry -

George W. Bush and a secret service agent are taking a stroll when they come upon a little girl carrying a basket with a blanket over it. Curious, Bush asks the girl, "What's in the basket?"

She replies, "New baby kittens," and she opens the basket to show him.

"How nice," says Bush. "What kind are they?"

The little girl says, "Republicans."

Bush smiles, pats the little girl on the head and continues on.

Three weeks later, Bush is taking another stroll, this time with Karl Rove. They see the little girl again with the same basket.

Bush says, "Watch this, Karl --- it's really cute." They approach the little girl. Bush greets her and asks how the kittens are doing, and she says, "Fine."

Then, smirking, he nudges Rove with his elbow and asks the little girl,

"And can you tell us what kind of kittens they are?"

She replies, "Democrats."

Aghast, Bush says, "But three weeks ago you said they were Republicans!"

"I know," she says. "But now their eyes are open"...

And some wonderful quotes for the day ..

"If you can't be a good example, you'll just have to serve as a horrible warning..."
- Luanne

"We are not held back by the love we didn't receive in the past,
but by the love we're not extending in the present."
- Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love

"The thing to do is grab up the broom and drive off the beast of fear."
- Zora Neale Hurston

"Yesterday's over my shoulder,
So I can't look backward too long.
There is too much to see waiting in front of me,
And I know that I just can't go wrong..."
- Jimmy Buffet, Changes in Attitude, Changes in Latitude

"It's always something! If it isn't one thing, it's another."
- Roseanne Roseannadanna/Gilda Radner

"Take heart, it is I; have no fear."
- Jesus of Nazareth, Mark 6:50

And some quotes deserve some follow on Monday bon mots:

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Love is grand;

divorce is a hundred grand.

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I am in shape.

Round is a shape.

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Time may be a great healer, but it's a lousy beautician.

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Conscience is what hurts when everything else feels good.

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Talk is cheap because supply exceeds demand.

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Even if you are on the right track,

you'll get run over if you just sit there.

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Politicians and diapers have one thing in common. They should both be changed regularly and for the same reason.

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An optimist thinks this is the best possible world.

A pessimist fears this is true.

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There will always be death and taxes;

however, death doesn't get worse every year.

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In just two days, tomorrow will be yesterday.

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I am a nutritional overachiever.

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I plan on living forever. So far, so good.

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Practice safe eating -- always use condiments.

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A day without sunshine is like night.

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It's frustrating when you know all the answers,

but nobody bothers to ask you the questions.

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The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing at the right time, but also to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment.

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Brain cells come and brain cells go,

but fat cells live forever.

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Age doesn't always bring wisdom.

Sometimes it comes alone.

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Life not only begins at forty,

it also begins to show.

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I smile because I am your friend!

I laugh because there is nothing you can do about it.

Today, I feel like I'm working to not lose my mind. I have this deal in front of me to do 20 high-rise condo deals; I feel like I'm talking to the planet Uranus on them. The loan product they want isn't available; the communications are conflicting and confusing, and none of them are licensed as a mortgage broker/banker.

So, I'm throwing those aside to focus on something that will/could work.

My San Jac meeting got rescheduled from 10:00 to 1:00, so I'm about to get ready to go do that. Then, I have to come back here and do more work.

At least I feel like I've been productive so far this morning. Okay, back to throwing away $100,000 in income because the other side are idiots.