One of the better celebrity coming-outs I’ve read in recent memory was published today on the official website of a-ha, everyone’s favorite Norwegian synth-pop act of the 1980s. Alas, there’s no disco ball glittering from the ceiling of the closet from which the band’s enduringly handsome frontman has cautiously emerged, because Morten Harket isn’t gay.

We’re two days into June and Pride Month has already been hijacked by utter nonsense, from the furor over the timing of an ‘intimate’ JoJo Siwa photo to batshit insanity over the death of Jonathan Joss, who voiced John Redcorn on King of the Hill. Before ranting about any of this I’d like to note

Obligatory ‘unedited!’ reminder, just in case nothing makes sense. I wasn’t sure whether to shriek or cry when the substitute MDS gently closed the door behind herself this afternoon and I caught a glimpse of myself in its full-length mirror under harsh hospital lighting. Sitting on the exam table, waiting for her to return with

Quick 05.24.25 update: I’m going to bed early tonight after a long day of fighting the urge to nap, but wanted to update this first and say that so far I haven’t had much pain despite the dentist’s warning (even when skipping OTC pain relievers). So far my only concern is how the ends of

The power’s been restored and Crankenstein’s back home, rattled and relieved in (almost) equal measure. We’d planned to celebrate a special occasion this weekend and some of those festivities have been postponed, but there’s cake and she’s chosen The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug for tonight’s viewing. Though we seem to watch it annually, I’m

Five paragraphs, most of them satisfactory. That’s what I saved before lunch today as a draft for a post I planned to finish tonight. After I’d eaten, while Muriel slept, I dragged the empty wire shelves from the office closet and fumbled with the cruel plastic packaging of a $3 pack of dowel pins. One

Last night was the same as every other miserable night since a rendezvous with ZzzQuil in early April: I slept for 2.5 hours, then got up with Muriel and dozed again for about as long. Five hours of fragmented sleep kept me awake enough to join Crankenstein on a shopping excursion to replace her desk

Editing last night’s entry this morning reminded me that lately I’ve been inserting Word B, which comes after Word A, in front of it as well; this turns phrases like “screwed up” into typos like “up screwed up.” It doesn’t happen incessantly but it’s a daily occurrence in text messages, blog posts, or other online

Whatever energy I possessed earlier in the day is long gone after everything I did around the house today, which is funny because it seems — as it often does — that my slow and clumsy efforts barely put a dent in my to-do list. But I remembered to take photos, which usually slips my

Here’s Muriel, our noble, barrel-chested beast, breaking in the new chair. I’m not sure why it looks as though she was dragging the Gorilla Cart behind her like a mule, but clearly she and Crankenstein were up to something while I showered.* This room is big and nearly empty, so it’s a good place to