Picture with me if you will……………

It’s November 2nd, we all voted, it’s ten and we have no clue who won, the Republican’s party is a dud and the Dems are openly smoking pot in the parking lot, come on over, let’s party like it’s 1999!!!  1999, BEFORE 911, before Covid, before we all went crazy and now hate one another and scream sh*t at our fellow man about fk* masks.

Yes, I’ve written about you, people have ridiculed you, you wrote me and told me that I live in a glass house, which is true but I don’t run for public office either AND do my crazy sh*t out of the country adhering to my personal code.


That said, let’s get lonely for PRINCE, turn it up and dream about partying like it’s 1999 again.


November 2nd., may just be the night WE should all go out and fulfill at least a few things left on our Bucket Lists. You know you have one. I am actually on a few bucket lists myself according to the “Recapture the Past” capabilities of the age we live in, well, let’s take that cyber flirting to a new level, November 2nd.

All my single friends who’ve outlived just about everyone, take a nap November 2nd., don’t hit the bottle of wine, call up someone who got drunk and texted you this year and get yourselves out there. Remember what fun is like? It’s a memory around here for fk sure I’ll tell you that.

From relatives, to people, to pets, to plants to Nieman Marcus and a scare with Luby’s, LOSS is my partner. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see people suffering in my neighborhood raising methed up grand kids and grown up kids who just won’t go away with no end in sight. My job ended in 2019, when my son died, I don’t even remember the New Year passing, but this year, THIS YEAR, look out bail bondsmen.

What if we were ALL just happy this absolutely shi**y year was over?

What if we all breathed a sigh of relief and pretended it was the “Pam’s Dream” of our DALLAS existence in this horrible season of life itself? I can do it for about four hours if you can.

WARNING: If you are a man between 58 and 87, in marginally good health, have texted me drunk ramblings this year, AND you survive September, I will be making my choice of Mr. “Once Before I Die”, early.


See you soon.



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