Sunday Talking Heads

Yeah, yeah, yeah.
It is a day of worship - Chris Mathews, McLaughlin Group, Meet the Press, etc. There are some days when I'd like to put Eleanor Clift's little brain inside a garlic press.
-Pause-
I just spent about an hour crafting something clever and pithy. It was too clever. It was shit to read.
So, instead, I'll leave you with that image of Eleanor Clift and the confession that her voice gives me the same feeling as fingernails going down a chalkboard.

Bless me Father...

It has been more than a year since my last confession. It has been a lifetime...another life.
I find myself back in Florida. Been here, in fact, for a few months. Dithering away. Fiddling while Rome, er, Bangalore burned.
Contract issues and some other rot have kept me stateside. Not a bad deal if I knew beforehand that I would be here this long. Long droning story. However, not a long droning story about how ethically I've been handled.
My life, for what it is worth, was happening in B'lore. Tragically hip. Filled with all sorts of opportunities and pleasures. I am suppossed to get back there in October as long as I do not have a fiscal breakdown (or some other unforseen crisis).
Like I said...droning.
It has been a while since I last posted. That has been for numerous reasons. I guess the biggest one is that I was too busy living meaningful days to write about living meaningful days. Now that my wheels have been spinning for a while, maybe I can vent my spleen. As King of the Mixed Metaphor, I need an outlet for my current strain of angst.
Now I'm off to say a few Our Fathers and a couple of Hail Marys.