Author: admin

How do you know it’s Sunday in Vegas?  The hookers aren’t using their rosaries for something other than prayer.

I have my answer. You can take the Italians out of Ducktown but you can’t take Ducktown out of the Italians.  Except for the setting, it was a great neighborhood wedding.  More on that when I return.  I am sending these messages via telepathy and that makes my brain hurt so I have to keep them short.

So tonight is the big wedding that brought me here in the first place. Can the ambience of my old neighborhood, which supplied the family whose daughter is getting married, survive a wedding chapel at Caesar’s.

I’m in Vegas breaking the bank on the penny slot machines…or spending $20 on them. Whichever comes first.

My poor puppy. Yesterday he had to have teeth removed and things on his neck lanced and things around his butt trimmed….there is no growing old with dignity anymore, is there?  On the plus side, he got good drugs, he can still see out of one eye, with all the hair removed from his ears there is every chance he will at least pretend to hear when I call and he got to be cuddled all night under a quilt while sitting on my chest snoring. And he is milking it for all it’s worth.

Global warming be damned.  We woke up to snow covered lawns here in South Anchorage this morning.  Which kills the idea I had of putting my mosquito eater up today.

So I’m reading the weekly religious page of our local paper to see if I’ve accidentally been saved when I wasn’t looking and lo and behold there is an article about a group of nuns who have started an “Adopt a Sister” program to help pay for the care of the elderly nuns in their order.  I read a little further and lo and behold it is the nuns who taught me in grade school – the Salesian Sisters of St. John Bosco (you had to be able to spell all of that before you moved from kindergarten to first

Just another thing on my list of things I never want to do again in this lifetime. Ever. Because there is nothing like a firm and lithe young lady coming in to the room and bringing you ever stronger bras to hold up all that’s sagging while hers stand at attention with no help.

is it called good with a capital G? I’m betting that for Jesus, parts of it had to be pretty miserable.

to wish someone a happy Good Friday?