Today Rocketman decided that politics was only for blogging, and not for personal consumption. We had a very quiet lunch. The food was great, and they were out of beer when we left. Mission accomplished.

It did however, make for an interesting afternoon. Rocketman and I were drinking beer on Corydon, when my dad called... and he was in the neighbourhood. He arrived to show us his new toy. Toy-car that is. He bought an old Miata. The typical mid-life crisis car. I was ashamed of him for being so proud of such a shitty car, and at the same time happy for him - simply because he had achieved his goal of owning a shitty midlife-crisis car (he loves convertables).

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I've seen a lot of fucked-up people in my time. Drug-induced, and life-induced... crazy is crazy. Today I saw someone more fucked-up than anybody I've ever seen. He spent at least four hours on his 'stoop', and he was halucinating something fierce at points. We tried to play god for him, but he was too whacked to understand what god had to say (god said "Hey Denis!"). I hope he lives through the night.