I CAN’T BELIEVE ANTHONY BOURDAIN IS DEAD. News of his suicide by hanging is spread all over the main page of CNN’s website but offers zero information about why, leaving his millions of fans and followers, me included, speechless and sad. Believe it or not, I preferred Bourdain’s TV show — “Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations” — while he was still at the Travel Channel ... before he moved to CNN as a rock star chef and storyteller. But he was always fabulous!
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| Gifted chef, storyteller and author Anthony Bourdain is dead at 61. |
DIGESTIVE DIFFICULTIES. Another issue for me on Friday was LOUSY DIGESTION. By mid-afternoon I had trouble swallowing food (a side effect of diabetic neuropathy), belched often, occasionally felt queasy and ate very little aside from frequent wads of pills. I did, however, have a nice late supper … I ordered from China City. This consisted of Tofu Tempura, Steamed Dumplings and Scallop Egg Foo Young. Yes!
ATTEMPTING THE LONG WALK. After my hospice CNA (certified nurses’ aide) Roskeisha (the first “s” is silent) showed up at noon for bathing and hygiene — mine, not hers — I decided that I felt perky enough to try walking to the study for the first time in probably a month and a half. What I learned is this: I MUST BE FUCKING INSANE. This kind of thing has to come in stages now, walking slightly more every day. Yesterday’s effort yielded about 25% of the distance, but I had to sit down halfway. I’m just glad I saved enough energy to get back to the chaise lounge! This is awfully hard, people. I’ll try again tomorrow.
SLEEP DEPRIVATION. I didn’t get to sleep until almost 4:50 a.m. yesterday morning. I know, I know, that’s CRAZY … but to make matters even worse I never caught up during the day, didn’t grab a decent nap and I felt like a ZOMBIE. I don’t feel much better today, either. (It’s 11 a.m. Saturday morning now.) Maybe I should shut down my laptop and nod off for a while. Good idea ...
ATTEMPTING THE LONG WALK. After my hospice CNA (certified nurses’ aide) Roskeisha (the first “s” is silent) showed up at noon for bathing and hygiene — mine, not hers — I decided that I felt perky enough to try walking to the study for the first time in probably a month and a half. What I learned is this: I MUST BE FUCKING INSANE. This kind of thing has to come in stages now, walking slightly more every day. Yesterday’s effort yielded about 25% of the distance, but I had to sit down halfway. I’m just glad I saved enough energy to get back to the chaise lounge! This is awfully hard, people. I’ll try again tomorrow.
SLEEP DEPRIVATION. I didn’t get to sleep until almost 4:50 a.m. yesterday morning. I know, I know, that’s CRAZY … but to make matters even worse I never caught up during the day, didn’t grab a decent nap and I felt like a ZOMBIE. I don’t feel much better today, either. (It’s 11 a.m. Saturday morning now.) Maybe I should shut down my laptop and nod off for a while. Good idea ...
It’s Saturday night, 8:45 p.m., and Sam and I are watching Boom Town (1940) starring Clark Gable, Spencer Tracy, Claudette Colbert and Hedy Lamarr. It’s a ridiculously idiotic plot ... best friends (Gable and Tracy) are oil wildcatters who go back and forth being rich and then poor, in love with the same woman (Colbert), beating the crap out of each other, and on and on. Hedy Lamarr is the “spoiler” here, a ritzy, high-class dame from New York who doesn’t care if she breaks up a marriage (Gable’s). Even so ... Boom Town offers a very realistic look at the early years of oil drilling in the United States and it’s also fun to watch. Thank you for your time.
Looks like our Cheeto-in-Chief was caught picking his nose in public yesterday at the G7 in Canada. He arrived late with an obnoxious attitude, attempted to bully America’s closest allies with a bunch of threats, bullshit and doubletalk, ditched two important sessions (because he’s far too ignorant to participate, and then bailed out early to fly to Singapore for a meeting with Kim Jong Un. I certainly hope that Dennis Rodman will be on hand to help Trump iron out the details of nuclear diplomacy. Oh, Jesus.
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| Emmanuel Macron of France, the Cheeto-in-Chief and Angela Merkel of Germany. |
“It was not contentious,” the bloated fucktard remarked to the press at the G7. “What was strong was the language that this cannot go on, but the relationships are very good.” This has no meaning whatsoever, does it? “The European Union is brutal to the United States, and they know it. It’s like the gig is up,” he said. “They can’t believe they got away with it.” Got away with WHAT, exactly? Congress and Americans side with the G7 ... not with YOU!
Trump threw a tantrum all the way to Singapore because he’s failing on the world stage and everybody knows it but HIM.
I guess that’s about all for tonight, people. I’m ready to head back to the chaise lounge and watch the last half of Bell, Book and Candle (1958) starring James Stewart, Kim Novak and Jack Lemmon. It’s a favorite of mine and an interesting story about a gorgeous witch (Novak) with a cat, and a Manhattan book publisher (Stewart) who’s under their spell.
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| Kim Novak and Piewacket the cat. |
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