Sometimes, it’s necessary to clean out the closets and take out the trash. So, get out the garbage bags.
Last night, I posted several live updates on Twitter. I don’t do this but once a year perhaps, if that, and only when there’s a major event happening that might be fun to cover. Most of my comments last night were about the Republican Presidential Debate happening on CNN, which took place as I was tweeting out my commentary, flinging occasional barbs, and even cracking a few jokes at the candidates’ expense. Even people who don’t agree with my leftist politics are probably aware that I’m quite amiable. I love debates and discussion. And, I never take things personally, nor let politics affect my friendships. I’ve got witnesses to back me up on this. I mean, those I didn’t purge already.
Look at the facts. The candidate leading the G.O.P. pack right now is a megalomaniac who bleaches his hair bright orange. He’s blundered his way through several failed businesses and has filed for bankruptcy four times. He rambles incoherently without a script each time he steps in front of a camera. What he says often offends millions of people. And, he’s wasted half of his life hanging out inside casinos.
If those are credentials for the most important job in the world, then I don’t just have a fighting chance. Hell, with my resume that should make me the frontrunner.
Ladies and gentlemen, I hereby announce my candidacy for President of the United States….as a Republican.\
Trouble is, there’s a lot of shitty ice creams out there polluting the markets loaded with garbage ingredients like high-fructose corn syrup, artificial sweeteners and phony flavors, and worst of all chemical preservatives that makes ice cream addiction one of the unhealthiest vices around, aside from smoking. Dairy products aren’t particularly good for you, anyway. Plus, they make you fat. Well, they make me fat. Okay, fatter.
But up until now, that’s a price I’ve been willing to pay. I just have to get my regular ice cream fix. It doesn’t matter where I’m visiting, or what the temperature is outside, I want a triple scoop of whatever I can get my hands on, and then I devour it within only a couple of minutes because — I CAN’T STAND SOFT ICE CREAM!
I want my ice cream rock hard. Otherwise, I will not eat it. I have a soft ice cream phobia.
Yesterday, something unusual happened at the crossroads of Flamingo and Fort Apache, in Las Vegas.
There’s a Home Depot on the southwest corner of that busy intersection. On most mornings and afternoons, for-hire Latinos hang out in front of the store, hoping for a few hours work. If someone drives by, they often wave and hope to the catch the eye of a homeowner in need of labor. Presumably, most if not all of these workers are undocumented. In other words, they’re illegal aliens.
What was most unusual on this otherwise magnificent Saturday afternoon was the appearance of three police cars in the parking lot, blue and red lights flashing, as the illegal aliens were being rounded up. I’d never seen that before. I’ve shopped at that Home Depot perhaps 50 times in ten years and have never once witnessed any kind of disruption, nor problems of any kind. I’m not sure why those illegals on this day were suddenly being arrested. Sure, they were probably here in this country illegally. But the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department certainly has better things to do with their time and resources than chase lots of poor people across the border back to Mexico. Besides, isn’t that the job of of the U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service?