Posh Club

I was doing my Mark Spitz doppelganger routine in lane 8 this morning when I got booted out of the pool.  It was not my behavior, but a chlorine issue that the 16-year-old lifeguard did not have much info about.  Fortunately, I was able to get in most of my workout before I got the boot.  In other words, 175 laps.

Are you tired of hearing hackneyed tales of my quotidian existence? Tough noogies, as they used to say.  You’ll have to sift through a few more before I transmogrify into a snarky political pundit manqué or a celebrity roaster.

My wife and #1 have been busting my chops about documenting the May 8 birthday party that TCG and Katie put on for us in their FC  home. In all fairness, I do need to publicly thank them for the affair, which was attended by most of the village. We had great weather and were able to hang on their patio before a nut-crusted mahi mahi feast was presented. We were also treated to a rap tribute written by #1 and sung by him and several others.  Nobody can write rap lyrics quite like a 65-year-old upper middle class white guy.

The active social life has continued since this event. The girl and her fiancée were down last weekend, along with her soon to be in-laws, for the USF Law graduation of the fiancée’s older brother.  The original plan was to pick them up and drive them to the airport, but we soon came to realize that the Bay to Breakers was on, so we dodged that bullet by having the crew come down to our house for bagels and lox. We’ll see them all again in Portland next weekend for a gala celebrating the couple. This week alone we had the 4Ms and their fine wine over Tuesday, a dinner with the driveway cocktail crew Friday and dinner at #1’s house last night.  If you need any deets, give me a shout.

In recent news, I see that Trump got booed at the Libertarian Party convention, which warmed my heart, and had a solid attendance of two to three thousand at his Bronx rally, which he inflated 10x+. His trial should be concluding next week.  Lock him up.  I’ve been nauseated by all the sycophants that have been showing up daily in their Trump Halloween outfits.  I’ve been making blog notes but haven’t been motivated to put this out there until now. The multiple cups of Rudy coffee I had today put me over the top. Here’s an example of what the late-night guys had to say.

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/seth-meyers-donald-trump-maga-court-allies_n_6645ddabe4b0dd63cd2b698b

I’ve also come up with a few nicknames for these guys as well.

Clones or clowns? Or both?

Four blind mice

Hannibal Lecter snack packs

In celeb news, it looks like things are not going J Lo’s way lately.  For me, 30 years of fame and millions of dollars would be enough, but things may start to look up when she moves on to husband #5.

https://www.thedailybeast.com/obsessed/jennifer-lopezs-movie-career-sucks-now-what-happened?ref=home?ref=home

I saw that my former financial adviser Ivan Boesky recently shuffled off this mortal coil. Also in the obits was Morgan Spurlock, whom I’d like to thank for steering SB1 away from fast food since his early teens.

I’m dedicating this post to my older brother.  We’ve traded a few emails since his mention in my last post.  I really need to elaborate on the outsized influence he’s had on me since my earliest days.  He's always been a friend to lean on and a mentor to admire, providing fraternal guidance all along the way.  As we discussed bro, I'll take you off the blog mailing list once the check clears.

I’ll close with a question to my old pal Wig. Did you find this post meaningful?

Smiley face