I just washed my...

Big white dog, (why, yes.  His name is Elvis.  How did you know?), and I can't do a thing with him.

Thirteen down, one hundred and twenty-five to go.

Wasteland Monday, feeling much like a piñata on seis de Mayo.  Seven p.m. wasteland time zone or four balls Zulu.  Wait, I've already done that story.   Monday evening and I'm without a buffer to fall back on at midnight.  Yep, par for the course.   Whoda thunk it?

I suppose I could tune into the Republican National Convention Sideshow and start following the live Tweets from the Twitterverse.  On second thought, I would just as soon have a sharp pointy stick jammed into my as...eye.  Eye, yeah that's it.  I would rather be stabbed in the eye than sit through that circus.  Nothing said by the clown brigade could convince me to follow the pachyderms. 

 

The RNC in an obvious attempt to stir patriotism with convention delegates labeled the elevators inside the Quicken Loans Arena in Cleveland after the Colors of the National Ensign. 

I'm not sure they thought this through completely.  The "White" elevators for Republican conventioneers might just be a little, um, I don't know, FUCKING WRONG.  

Either no one caught it, or no one cared enough to change it.  Says a lot about the whole mentality of the repubs doesn't it? 

This message brought to you by the Chump Trump and Bohica (Bend Over, Here It Comes Again) Pence, who either didn't catch it or didn't care about the New Campaign logo.

It ain't much, it's all I've got for today.  
Blink...blink...blink.
Thanks.   Fourteen down, one hundred and twenty-four to go.  

See you tomorrow, probably.