Tired of sitting here writing nonsense to fill these blogs tonight. But all my errands are done, and I don't have to be up early, so let's get through this one as I watch All the Colors of the Dark on one screen and The Monster Club on another while listening to sports radio.
There were literally three separate revelations today about Donald Trump that would have been sufficient to sink any previous presidential candidate from either party. Three. The man had illegal dealings with Cuba, has been running his charity illegally, and owes 300 million dollars to a foreign bank he can never pay back.
None of this makes any difference to the people willing to vote for him, and seems to do little to motivate those who don't want to to vote for Hillary Clinton.
I'd like to read some outsider poetry and take a soak in a whirlpool bath for about two weeks, sleep underground, and wake up in an 18 year old body.
There are some nice castles in Italy.
Here come the hounds. I thought I had seen this movie before but it doesn't seem like it now. None of it looks familiar to me.
Outsider Poet Thomas L. Vaultonburg looking dumber than usual
I guess I already cast my vote, so all I can do is try to get other people to cast there's for Hillary Clinton, or at least against Donald Trump in some way.
I remember one time I was wearing a Union Civil War hat at a bonfire and as we danced to the Romantic's "What I Like About You" we'd jump and yell "hey." It was a nice night and of the few I had before I turned thirty like that.
This is definitely not the movie I was thinking of unless this Satanic cult eats her at the end. And they still might.