happy when it rains

The rain came strong and fast, long overdue and much needed. It's been dry for so long and even though I got drenched and my hair is snarly, it feels so good after being covered in grit on the diamond as the fake invasion of downtown happened and I tried to keep my dystopian opinions in check.Hard to when this is going on (image courtesy of the local paper).

Maybe I'm turning into Tipper Gore and hell I played with squirt guns as a kid, and we chased each other around the yard with sticks, because playing war was devoid of actual blood and implications and was just a way to get the blood moving and the adrenaline rushing, which is scary to think about. Because usually when I see kids handling such weaponry, it's somewhere else.

THAT'S COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. 
 Sure, but why are you encouraging your kids to think this is fun and virtuous?

So after that, me and Queen of the Bondo went to the art fair at the end of the street where there wasn't too much going on, though we did find swankness at the vintage shop of 70's kitsch amazingness and found much to chortle about. I've always been a sucker for old thrift-store t-shirts with silkscreened graphics washed so many times they're amazingly comfortable, but since it's become more trendy in recent years, such things are way harder to come by. Got my dad a Ghoulardi mug for the tea he occasionally drinks so go me as far as Father's Day goes.

Went over to the parents' house for delicious foodage and wine-fueled conversation where strangely enough the factions split over Woody Allen films rather than politics, go figure. Also, I learned that my grandpa is amused by the antics of Pooty-Poot as much as yours truly. So that's where it comes from.