if the earbuds are in, don’t ask me what time the plane lands at LAX.  i think i have “talk to me” tattooed on my forehead

by the time I got to the Parking Spot at LAX yesterday, i really had to use the lavatory.  when I got over there, the doors to both the men’s and the women’s bathrooms were propped open with trashcans and there was a janitor’s cart between the two entrances.

well, i had to go and needed to catch my flight.  so i, nonchalantly of course, entered the ladies’ room and quickly encountered the man that was in charge of cleaning the facility.  i told him i’d be quick and just handled my business at hand.  i thought he’d step out; they usually do, but not this guy.  not only did he comment about how fast i peed, he struck up a conversation with me as i washed my hands. 

don’t get me wrong; i didn’t mind the company.  the toilet was in a stall with a door, but it still struck me as odd.  oh well, it is California after all.

flying alaska today.  security is in terminal 2 and they don’t have pre-check.  but if you have pre-check, you’re supposed to be able to leave your shoes on and go through the metal detector; as opposed to walking barefoot through the naked scan machine.  

well, that didn’t happen for me.  some jerk agent wouldn’t accept the ubër professional  3″ squiggle mark applied to my boarding [p]ass by the first agent.

i got to take off my shoes, dig out my liquids, take out my laptop AND two tablets, in addition to having my naked image transmitted over microwaves.  oh, and some woman patted down my ace bandaged ankle, hard, despite me advising that it hurts and i would be happy to remove the bandage for her inspection.

i got to the end of the conveyor and took my GD sweet ass time putting my luggage back together.  

then i summoned the PIC and asked him about my squiggled boarding pass.  of course, he had no rational answer, which made me repissed.  i pretty much yelled at him; telling him that after 16 MF’ing years since 9/11, some consistency and professionalism is expected from that government agency.  

btw, i don’t feel any safer after another episode of Security Theater brought to us by Homeland Security.  dicks.

my grandma is 4 days into an assisted living place. a. she already has a noise complaint b: they served fucking chili dogs for lunch. i had to tell her nurse that the chili dog better not be searching for daylight c. she’s already booked one of the common rooms for Friday night so her girlfriends and she can play cards. i told her she better not get kicked out

so if you’re outside of the crosswalk, it’s lawful to hit someone?

so grandma is back in the hospital after her recent stay due to her broken femur.  she is good; she is 95 and amazing!

anyway, the hospital thought it would help grandma if we put pictures on the walls of her room after she transitioned from ICU.  we had to act fast, so i went through my 851 or so favorite pics on my iPhone and sent about 60 to Target to have them printed in 4×6.  
i ended up doing it twice because the app didn’t email me a confirmation.  of course, kim ended up with double the pictures, but since i had to choose them again, the sets were different so i figured we would just keep all of them.

well, i got kind of punchy the second time and started sending some random pictures too, e.g. my Trump action figure with an impeachment book. 

so, kim picked up the pictures, flips through them, calls me and asks, “who’s McLovin’?”

my work here is done.

okay, so. joe and i were eating at this place called merriman’s. peter merriman is my favorite chef, ever, but i digress. anyway, all along the watchtower was playing, the original hendrix version, and i am actually quiet and listening to the lyrics. i hear jimi mention a joker and a thief. and then i was like, wow, what if that is the same joker and the thief about which wolfmother made that amazing song, aptly called joker and the thief, that they play in the first hangover. when alan and bradley cooper are riding down the escalator at Rio, which is also a nod to Rainman. googled it and sure as shit, i’m right

Boise Airport. National Counter.Counter Man Joe: “Would you like the Malibu or the Impala?”

Me: “I’ll take the Impala: closest to a cop car.”

Counter Man Joe: “I remember you.”