Dickie Cronkite
Someone who has more "theme park experience."


The dog ate it.
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My latest post, that is.

Actually, I have a good excuse - since getting back from The Motherland late Sunday night/Monday morning, I had to jump right back into the work week, and um, the desert I live in has suddenly turned into a GIANT FIRE-FUCK BALL. (Christ!)

As I type, you can see the massive plumes of gray smoke just ... consuming the Little San Bernadinos. People are losing everything, left and right. Eerily reminiscent of Malibu '94: The last couple of nightfalls, you could see the orange glow outlining the mountain silhouettes.

Hey, it wouldn't be God's Country if we didn't have something Biblical from time-to-time.

As El Matador would say, "Crasy sheet, maing."

Coming off my ... very sad Katrina expedition last weekend, I feel like a disaster-jinx. I'm like Drew Barrymore in Firestarter. Seriously, this is worse than the time I attended the one Laker playoff loss to the 76ers, during 2001's crushing 15-1 march to the championship. Worse than Racist Tostitos Fiesta Bowl Loser jinxing Notre Dame against Boston College in 2004, if you can believe it.

Anyways, more later...


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