Stories of the pandemic
Sure the rooms were $350 a night, and we could only get a room up the stairs with a “street view,” and the restaurants were closed, and no barbecues on the beach, and there was no food or booze service on the beach. But it came with a “free mask.”
Like most dangerous things, it started with an innocent and simple suggestion.
While other people ignore the warnings and pack the airports, there will be no big Savage family Thanksgiving. Can’t have 20-plus people gather in 2020.
After 7 months of lockdown, we broke my dad out of the old folks home.
When Trump got the Covid, way too many fucking people “wished” him well.
No good deed goes unpunished. No well-intentioned wish doesn’t fuck up the universe — again.
I was watching one of those bullshit Hollywood chat shows, when I heard something interesting — yeah shocked me to.
It’s a race to see what will come first for Covid-19: a treatment or a vaccine. Put your money on the treatment — there is no money in vaccines.
Sometimes the universe hates my plans.
This “re-opening” shit is giving me Deja-Vu.
It’s either a glitch in the Matrix, or I’ve been watching too many fucking documentaries, and I spent too much time with my grandfather.
Ignorance can be bliss.
I wish I had never learned the “breed” name for my little pandemic puppy.
My father’s Senior Living Community in Arizona is sealed like a zip-lock doggie bag.
No family in or out. The “inmates” can walk the courtyard but not outside the building.
I’ve had dogs that liked me, but they always “loved” other people. This past few weeks I found a dog that actually loves me. If I’m lucky, for the next 15 years, I won’t be able to take a shit by myself.
For the first time in 35 years together, the Bear and I are doing a little bit of hoarding.
I know what you are thinking, and fuck you. It’s just a little bit of hoarding, and it’s not for us.
Just when I think Americans and their leaders are so fucked-up, the country hardly deserves to survive, we do something as a group I can finally salute.
For not the first time in a decade, the man cave has come in handy.
By Pam R.
Pieces of life and the love of family mixed with the passion to ride
Los Angeles Freelance Writer • Comedian • Photographer •
Comedy essays and articles
Like Mother Teresa, only better.
Riding the South Coast of Massachusetts and Rhode Island
cycling less than i plan
Author of suspense novels Sketch, Justice For Belle, Search For Maylee, Aggravated Momentum, and a medley of short stories.
"Nothing that happens to a writer -- however happy, however tragic -- is ever wasted." ~ P.D. James
The Dude Abides. I'm A Dude AbiKes. I wonder as I wander around Austin on a bicycle.
All kinds of ideas and thoughts
A Funny Blog
It's My Blog and I Can Cry If I Want To.....
"We make bitter better."
Incoherent ranting & cries from the edge of sanity, mostly.
"This blog is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." - F.G.
If you aren't living on the edge, you're taking up too much space
Where smartasses chase unicorns
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A place for grumpy old men- ladies and the young are welcome if they feel they are up to it.
My life as a cautionary tale.
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