Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Have I mentioned before how much I dislike Tuesdays?  I have? Well, let me just top up that cup o’ gripe for you.

I couldn’t help noticing that Pravda on the Potomac, apparently with nothing better to occupy itself, decided to run a front page, over-the-fold sympathy article on a transgendered five year old this past Sunday.  I’ve nothing much to say about this biznay (well, nothing much printable at any rate)  except this:  Always remember that “sex” is a matter of biology, while “gender” is a creature of politics.   That’s pretty much all you need to know to navigate these things.

And, as Peej O’Rourke famously noted, politics is the business of gaining power and status without merit.

Why do they call it a “Fun Fair”?  I never have any fun, and I think it unfair that I have to go.  (I repeat this observation here because my doc laughed when I mentioned it to her yesterday.  It’s gold, Jerry! Gold!)

The Mothe recently alerted me to the fact that Jeep is recalling some of its 2010 Wranglers because of the risk of fire caused by some flaw in the automatic transmission system.  This caused me to fetch the soft cushions and the comfy chair:  The very notion of a Wrangler with automatic transmission is downright heretical, IMHO.  I mean, half the fun of driving one is the stick-shift, right?  Confess! CONFESS!!

I completely agree with Mr. FLG’s latest pet peeve.

Henry Rodriguez causes a cold, cold feeling in the pit of my stomach every time he comes in to close a game for my beloved Nats.  Help me, Drew Storen! You’re my only hope!

I saw a soon-to-be middle aged woman with the words “Live, Laugh, Love” tattooed prominently across her back.  Why?  Why on earth?

On a brighter note, I pick up the new glasses this evening.  Perhaps this will put me in a less churlish frame of mind.  Perhaps not.