Yesterday, we reported that a passel of grotesque Dickensian caricatures gathered in the House of Representatives to vote, by a margin of 217-213, to let poor people die and to punish women for the blasphemy of having a vagina, effectively putting some 24 million Americans at the perpetual risk of poverty should they fall victim to accident or debilitating disease—a monstrous display of selfishness that, by their own admission, many of them performed solely out of adherence to partisan dogma and unabashed spite, and a ghoulish, symbolic bloodletting ritual that they then commemorated by drinking Bud Light. However, we have now learned that they did not, in fact, drink Bud Light.
Settling in to Florida, despite the Hurricane, Black-Out, and landing in the Eleventh Ring of Hell where they deny Internet access. I guess I wasn’t too busy this last weekend so they hauled me off to the hospital for another bout of pneumonia.
Note to Hillary: You’re a better man than I am!
It’s only been a couple of days but I’m completely thrown off for the remainder of the month. Despite all that quiet-time lying in a hospital bed, I couldn’t read, and now that I am home with all the oxygen and pills, I still haven’t been able to focus enough to read … maybe I should poke around for a steamy jungle fever adventure to re-start the engines.
When I was a young Adonis I regularly took a bath and washed my hair every Saturday in the late afternoon. Then I was ready to go carousing Saturday night (even though I was just twelve and still a couple of years away from driving). But as the years went by, I began taking regular showers … at least one a day.
When I went away to college I often found solace standing under the high-pressure spray of the dormitory showers. On some days I would take a shower in the morning to wake me up, a shower in the afternoon after sweaty inter-mural sports, and often a shower at night to relax and break the monotony of endless studying. Even when I moved into my own apartment, I still needed that wake-up shower in the morning.
However, there were a few residents on the dorm floor that were from Europe or the Near East or Cleveland who obviously had different bathing habits. I suspect they had different ideas about washing their clothes too. Now I read about how our mania for cleanliness is destroying the ultra-sexy smells that man has always relied on to attract a mate.