LEAVE NO THOUGHT UNEXPRESSSED DEPT.
…The storm from Northern California just hit little Pismo Beach, enroute to Los Angeles, where there will be gridlock, crashes and twenty-two car pileups. Those people cannot deal with rain. Have you noticed how some smart asses drive even faster when it rains or when it is foggy? By God, they'll show you how fast their reflexes work, and how their synapses come together, while you are poking along with one foot out the door. You are chickenshit. They are road warriors.
Very soon now, we will lose power. First the cable will go, then the electrical will go, and we will all look lovely in the mellow light from oil lamps and candles. When one first moves to Pismo Beach, the Welcome Wagon Lady usually hands one a miniature oil lamp (fairy lamp) as a reminder to the newcomer to stock up. The electrical grid in this town was laid out shortly after Father Junipero Sierra built his first mission. I'll save telling you about our waste removal system until after we have all had breakfast.
I haven't read any comments about the blasting at Dick Cheney's house. Why? Did I just happen to miss them? There was a small newspaper piece about loud blasts, apparently coming from somewhere near or under his house, going on 24 hours a day and neighbors complaining. I guess he has decided to relocate his cave under his house. God knows it is more convenient for midnight snacking.
I sometimes wonder why the cigarette companies are sued and sued. While the tobacco farmers go merrily on their way, planting tobacco and, I think, even being subsidized.
The rain reminds me of one of my war stories: When I was a Messenger Girl at MGM, hoping to get into the Junior Writers department, I was sharing an elevator with Clark Gable, who pointed to my rain-wet hair and said: "Don't comb it while it's still wet, you'll lose all the curl." I lunched out on that in the studio commissary for a year.
9:38:22 AM 
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