grandma died yesterday and today is the 4th anniversary of my mother's death. so it's appropriately grey outside, threatening drizzle and blustery winds.
this great piece from a super-smart prof at princeton tells me exactly why joe the plumber should remain in his box under mccain's bed and be murdered by his best friend simon. and why we cannot relax until the votes are in and counted.
so i'm watching no heroics, a cuteish, vaguely funny, raunchy brit show about a london where, yes virginia, there are superheroes and they live among us; and in the credits they have a shot of a tube station in finchley central which is the part of london i was staying in a year ago last week. oh finchley central, how i miss your almost suburban london self. oh london. i want to come back. you are so much cooler than portland.
fuck me. i love hank moody.