Gloomy Gwrywgydiwr

[From Popbitch:]

["A Welsh word for homosexual is gwrywgydiwr."]

[Pronounced "gwrywgydiwr," naturally.]

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[Tomorrow I've got the Dog Bruno, though in truth he's been coming in to The Place Where I Work the last few days, accompanying Mireille, Charlotte's friend who's helping out. We need the help, too, since Boss-Man is departing for the rest of July and for much of August, and Guglielmo (who joined us in January) is going home to Padua for much of August as well, as all good Venetii do.]

[That leaves me, mostly, which is fine. Maybe I'll be too busy running the joint, taking care of the Ridiculously Large Mastiff, and moving to notice the mini-S.A.D. case that has descended on me this week with the summer fog.]

[It had better help. I swear I was fine last week.]

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[I need one more item to make this an entry worthy of the Patented Asterisks you see above. Let's see...nope. Nothin'. I think I may abscond to the river again this weekend. Anything for some sunshine. If I do, it will make no weekends in July spent in San Francisco, and I see that as a good thing.]

Previously Next

[Later: BACKLASH! Last night at 440 (Daddy's that was), the ubiquitous Rehab came on. Allen said, "I'm officially sick of this song." Before I could kind of agree (I still think it's great, but enough, already), it cut off about thirty seconds in. Ragged cheers came from several parts of the bar. Ouch!]