My Sick Mind

LOS ANGELES, January 3 (UPI) - An overdose of heroin and morphine caused the death of Andre Young Jr., son of U.S. rapper Dr. Dre, the Los Angeles County Department of Coroner says. Coroner spokesman Larry Dietz confirmed to People magazine on Friday that the death of the 20-year-old Young has officially been ruled an accidental overdose . Sheesh. You'd think that a kid whose father was a doctor would have a better grasp on the use of drugs. Go figure. Blogger rule number 1. When all else fails, post a photo of your beloved pet doing something cute. In this case, Kitty has found a place in the sun in a not-all-that-cold day. Still, you can't blame the guy for wanting to sit someplace warm in January. I have no idea where the phrase "dumb animals" comes from. He's smarter than most people I know - which probably doesn't say much for most people I know.

This is the way my local cable company is promoting next month's switch to digital TV. A smiling senior citizen. I suppose it's because that is the demographic that is most frightened by new technology. That has to be the reason, because for everything else, they use kids, young adults or turtles. Technology scares people of that generation. That's strange because they are the generation that has seen the greatest advances. My mother was born in 1924. She has lived through 84 years of technological advances too numerous to list here. Suffice it to say, everything from television to air conditioning. Whenever something changes or something new comes about, it's always old people who have the most difficult time with it. When the power went out, her VCR would blink 12:00 until I could get over there to set the time. Now, she has a DVD player that automatically re-sets, so she always knows what time it is. They are the generation who has undergone the biggest...

I enjoy going back and re-reading some of this crap. I enjoy it because I don’t remember from one day to the next what I’ve written, so going back a year or more is like reading something for the first time. I wonder how long it will stay here. Is Blogger like a time capsule or will I log-on 20 years from now and **poof** No more crap. The holidays are over, speaking of poof . As usual, it was a big build-up and prep (for some people) for what? The thing I remember about Christmas (when I used to “do” Christmas) was that thrashing and noise of the wrapping paper being torn open. It’s why I never spent a lot of time wrapping gifts. I’d find the cheapest paper I could and tape it together well enough to survive the trip. In a rush of energy, a half-dozen people would open their gifts and the chaos began. It was always so much nicer when it was just two people giving each other something. Those living room family gift orgies never did it for me. As you can imagine, I slept through t...

In this life I've seen everything I can see woman, I've seen lovers flying through the air hand in hand. I've seen babies dancing in the midnight sun, And I've seen dreams that came from the heavenly skies above. I've seen old men crying at their own grave site, and I've seen pigs all sitting watching, picture slides. But I never seen nothing like you. . OK, so it's just the moon and Venus. It's still pretty nice. Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty good. Extra points if you know what that song lyric is.

Here in Philadelphia, the Eagles have a full-house for every game and a waiting list of over 60,000 people. So, figure that every season ticket holder would have to be eliminated in some bizarre Cowboy-related terrorist plot, and there would still be a couple thousand people who couldn't get tickets. Now wonder how, in Minnesota there are still 11,000 tickets remaining for Sunday's playoff game between the Vikings and Eagles. In spite of the fact that it's 6 degrees in Minneapolis and going down to minus 6 later tonight (not including the wind chill), there are still so-called Vikings fans who hold season tickets and don't want to attend a playoff game. A playoff game that is likely to be the only home game they get. As a frame of reference, I am a Phillies season ticket holder and would have considered myself for psychiatric evaluation had I declined the playoff tickets I was entitled to last season (or the season before). Isn't that part of the reason you hold ...

Today is New Year's Eve. What are we going to do? We're going to leave work as soon as possible (if we went to work at all), run home, get changed into that outfit that says "I'm not at work now" and run as fast as we can to some bar or nightclub where we'll join a bunch of strangers and count backward to midnight, then collapse in a heap. That's a holiday. Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve are the only two days we celebrate that are "eve's." There's no Independence Day Eve or Easter Eve - that would be silly, right? What would you do on Independence Day Eve? Light a firecracker and blow it out? Easter Eve - shove some eggs up a rabbit's ass? Get the crucifix ready? Of course, tonight is amateur night. It's like Christmas shopping. People who have no business in malls are out bumping into people and pretend they're shoppers. They go to the mall once a year. People go out on New Year's Eve out of obligation, and mos...

Why is New Year's Day a legal holiday? It's the first day of the year - so what? Who says we're entitled to a day off work? I suppose it's because we'd be hung over or some such thing, so why bother opening the office at all? Wikipedia says it's been celebrated on the Gregorian calendar since 153 B.C., but that didn't answer my question. The explanation lacks sense: New Year's Day celebrates the beginning of the Gregorian calendar year. Festivities include counting down to midnight (12:00 AM) on the preceding night, New Year's Eve. Traditional end of holiday season . Those are some heavy festivities. Counting backward. They go on to tell us that when holidays fall on a weekend day, they are celebrated on the closest day. So, in two years when January 1 is Saturday, which day do we get off work? Friday, December 31? That doesn't make sense. See the things I think about. Try being me for a couple of days. I don't think you could deal with it...

Yesterday, my Bluetooth headset freaked out on me for the third and final time, so it is spending New Year's Eve in the trash dumpster. I visited AT&T's web site to seek out a new one, and was hooked up with Rachael, a chat room assistant designed to help me find the product I need. Here, verbatim is the chat I had with Rachael, complete with my comments interspersed. You are now chatting with Rachael S., an AT&T sales representative. Rachael S.: Welcome to AT&T online Sales support. How may I assist you with placing your order today? Anthony: I need to know if the Plantronics Voyager 521 headset is compatible with my Pantech Slate. Rachael S.: I will be more than happy to help you find the accessories that best fit your needs. That little non-sequitor should have tipped me off as to the tone that our chat session would have . Who's "more than happy?" I don't understand. Is that like giving 110-percent? Rachael S.: I will check up on that for ...

I got shussed by my neighbors the other day. I'm making too much noise, apparently, and two out of my seven neighbors decided that I should be more quiet. Me. More quiet. That's like asking Louie Anderson to be fatter. For those of you unaware, I am a condominium dweller. More so out of cost than preference. I'm intensely private, and there are times when the condo life is difficult for me - like when I have to socialize or deal with neighbors. I like suburban life, but I'd prefer it in a cave or some five-story building where the other 4 floors were used for storage. It wasn't so much me as it was the music I was listening to. FYI, I listen to music through my fancy Bose computer speakers while I'm doing this. The walls of my condo are so paper-thin that the gigantic 2-inch speaker and it's little bass compartment rattled the walls at or near 1:00am on Saturday, keeping my downstairs and next door neighbors awake wondering what all the rumbling was. Thos...

I love my newspaper. I get it delivered to my home every day. In fact, I'd have a hard time doing without it. I love everything the newspaper represents: The sense of community, the local flavor and its connection with people who live in its delivery area. Today's newspaper included the usual Parade magazine, which I'm surprised anyone reads. Does anyone read it? I'd be surprised. They're doing the usual "Year-end wrap-up," which is the journalistic equivalent of phoning it in. Nevertheless, we're stuck with it. Newspapers are dying. Does anyone wonder why? When I saw the cover, I threw up in my mouth. I thought we were through with this horrible woman and her ideals. I suppose not. There she was, pointing her finger at me and I could hear that voice, don'tcha know, as though I'm an idiot for not seeing what a regular gal she is. It's Palin redux . Or maybe it's Tina Fey? Best or worst? You can answer the question on your own: I...

Today's bucolic family scene comes courtesy of the local supermarket: A father with his two sons in tow - dad clueless, babbling on his cell phone - one hand on the cart the other hand holding the phone. Son number one (8 years old?) playing with his own cell phone while son number two (younger) admiringly watches, knowing his day with his own $100 a month play toy is coming. My question: Why does a grade-school kid need a cell phone - with a QWERTY keyboard no less? He probably can't even spell Qwerty. I'm sure it's mom and/or dad taking advantage of some "family plan" offered by the phone company, but really ... It's pretty much all I see anymore. Teenagers (and now, kids) and adults fiddling with phones in public. I wonder to whom they're talking. I see drivers leaving their driveways talking on the phone. Couldn't you have called them before you left ? We must have had this insatiable desire to talk on the phone that was unsatisfied before t...

A poll was released by the USA Today newspaper that asked Americans whom they most admired. (Note: I'm sure they didn't say "whom"). The answer came back thusly: Barack Obama - 34% George W. Bush - 5% John McCain - 3% This poll tells me two things: One, five percent of Americans can be sold anything and like it. That's why people still smoke cigarettes and Oprah is popular. Who still admires Bush? Do they know what admire means? Two, the poll had a margin of error of plus or minus 3 percent. That means that it's statistically conceivable (Kimmy) that nobody admires John McCain. That, I can believe. I don't know what happened to the other 58%. Chances are, it was split up between Sarah Palin, Jesus and Satan. 19.33% each. I've never been polled, except for that time several years ago that I was called and asked about my television viewing habits. That one took a while. I'm not sure whom I'd say I admired, especially if I had to ...

51 days. Pitchers and catchers report to spring training in Clearwater, Florida. Click the image for a lovely 1024 x 768 jpeg suitable for livening up your PC screen

This morning, the roads were coated with what the news people call "Black Ice" (always blaming the blacks) and cars skidded all over the roads in the morning rush hour. The thing that instantly came to mind was that the salt crews were nowhere to be found during all of this. The local TV weather people tout their "Mega Doppler" radar and other such expensive gadgets designed to either get us to tune in or be scared (or both) of the impending threat, but apparently none of them was able to warn the gang at PENNDOT (the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation) that the roads were going to be icy on Wednesday morning. That seems like the least they could have done. Meanwhile, the icy roads were the top story on the evening's news broadcast. Seems to me like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Among the nonsensical crap that went on during the day was the usual last-minute shopping by men (mostly) who were either clueless as to what to buy for "sweetie" o...

I got home for work tonight and discovered not one, not two, not three ... but four packages from QVC on my front porch. I wondered what drunken stupor I must have been in to order stuff from QVC. What I should have been wondering was what drunken stupor the UPS guy (or gal) was in who mistakenly delivered not one, not two, not three ... but four packages to the wrong address. I suppose it's excusable, since they were only off by 6 numbers. Geez. Those kinds of things make me wonder how much of my stuff gets delivered to other addresses and the people who get it aren't as considerate as I and don't bother to drop it off at the correct address. I want to know what those UPS guys (or gals) earn in an hour so I can get my cut. Lay off the egg nog. Meanwhile, the Bad Parking blog posted my photo ! For those of you who live in the area, you'll recognize some bad parking at a local convenience store. Wednesday at work we're doing Yankee Swap . Fans of " The Off...

Frank Costanza: Many Christmases ago, I went to buy a doll for my son. I reached for the last one they had, but so did another man. As I rained blows upon him, I realized there had to be another way. Cosmo Kramer: What happened to the doll? Frank Costanza: It was destroyed. But out of that a new holiday was born … a Festivus for the rest of us! Cosmo Kramer: That must have been some kind of doll. Frank Costanza: She was. The celebration of Festivus begins with Airing of Grievances, which takes place immediately after the Festivus dinner has been served. It consists of lashing out at others and the world about how one has been disappointed in the past year. Frank Costanza: The tradition of Festivus begins with the Airing of Grievances. I got a lot of problems with you people! And now, you're gonna hear about it. The original holiday dinner in Festivus creator Danny O'Keefe's household featured turkey or ham followed by a Pepperidge Farm cake decorated with M&M...

Over the years, I've seen a lot of TV ads where someone gives their spouse a new car for Christmas. I'd like to be in a relationship where the only (best) thing you can think of to give your spouse is a new car. A big-old Lexus with a red bow on top. Try getting it under the tree. Actually, they do manage, but it's a tree outside in the driveway. Generally, the ads begin with one person deceptively wondering "what could I possibly have for you?" All the while, the big gift awaits, unbeknownst to the recipient. Then, one of them usually blindfolds the other (or clasps their hands around their eyes) and leads them outdoors where the bowed vehicle awaits. The voice-over chimes in with some sentimental fluff about how much one cares for the other because they though enough of them to get them a vehicle. I'm left wondering a couple of things... One, how you wake up on Christmas morning and, upon not seeing your vehicle, you don't wonder, "Where the fu...

Today I took my final vacation day of the year. (Use 'em or lose 'em) As with most of my days off, this was a utilitarian one. My car was due for its 60,000 mile service. When such things come up, I take it to the dealership because I figure those guys see Ford's all day, every day and they know them better than a regular mechanic. It costs more, but I still believe that you get what you pay for. Now, I sit and await the phone call with the final tally of the bill, which will surely be no less than $400. It is on these days when I realize why single people don't live as long as married people. The dealer is 3 miles down the road, literally a straight line from "Disgraceland," and generally, the walk home does me good. Today, however ... a below zero wind chill made the walk more of a trudge. Bundled-up as I was, the wind (17mph with gusts to 40) cut through me like a knife. Sadly, the vagaries of the bus schedule left me between runs, so I figured if I w...

We got one of those cold rains last night. The kind that sticks to things like stairways and windshields. After the scraping and slipping, what was left over were trees and shrubs that had a white glow. Making something out of nothing. Meanwhile, I'm trying to control my cholesterol without resorting to prescription medication. So, I'm taking pills that wind up costing me more than what a prescription would cost, but it's a matter of principle now. One of them says to take it "a half hour before meals." Don't tell me to do something a half hour before I do something else. I'm not in control of my life to that extent. The Eagles lost today. Big deal, right? I know. The thing that kept coming back at me was how the game announcers kept telling us that they were "in command of their own destiny," because all they needed to do was to win in order to make the playoffs. That's a phrase that gets used a lot in sports. In truth, no one is in com...

Americans who fled to small vehicles during $4-a-gallon gas are rushing back into the arms of sport-utility vehicles and light trucks, reversing a trend in which economy cars soared in popularity while consumers ditched brawny gas hounds. Recent data and interviews with local dealers show more U.S. consumers have bought SUVs and pickups of late than any other new vehicle, thanks to the free-fall of crude-oil prices and must-sell discounts that would make even Santa Claus seem like a cheapskate. " Americans don't want to drive little cars," said Sophia Koropeckyj, a senior economist and auto-markets analyst with Moody's Economy.com in West Chester. "They really prefer larger vehicles, and gas prices have receded more than half since the summer. That's the only conclusion there is." Americans. Is there any term that signifies "gluttonous consumer" more than that? I say, no. I may have said it before, but ... we like our stuff. And we like big...