Yankees Suck

The New York Yankees suck.
They have always sucked.
They used to suck for not sucking.
It actually sucks when the Yankees actually suck.
It sucks less when the Yankees suck less.
I suck for actually digging it when the Yankees actually suck.
It sucks that no baseball has yet compared to 2004.
My college roommate was from New York
and he sucked because he loved the Yankees and knew his shit
and resented the sucky Sox fans who don't know their shit.
I met this sucky mirror image of myself on the battlefield in 2004
and in the end the lesson learned was not that either team sucked more or less
but that we had witnessed so amazing a battle that all baseball would suck thereafter.

Ward 1 Marijuana Meeting

Now that My Old Lady and I are proud homeowners I have been hounding her about attending a Ward Meeting. Lucky for me our first opportunity was a meeting about Recreational Marijuana. I emailed the following thoughts to my Ward rep. after the meeting.

1. We support a Moratorium until the CCC and state level guidelines are established.
2. We trust in the City Council and Zoning Board to establish city guidelines and expectations during said Moratorium so that they may be swiftly implimented when the State is prepared.  
3. The current Public Health campaign on edible marijuana is borderline fear-mongering and essentially moot because of 21+ statute and our trust in the Zoning Board and City Council to issue permits to reputable licensed establishments.
4. The police force has to evolve and upgrade to cope with legal recreational marijuana wether or not the city proceeds with retail dispensaries.
5. We have faith in our police force's outstanding reputation in the control of 20 local liquor licenses and therefore we trust in their ability to add four marijuana licenses. 
6. We very much do want to be the premiere North Shore destination for any booming industry. 
7. As a homeowner in Gloucester it would cause me pain to drive to Revere or Lynn or Salem and give them the 3% local tax associated with the product.

Old Keys

There is a recurring nightmare where I am a solider sitting at a campfire with a cast iron round ball mold and a pile of old keys. My job is to take the old keys and put them into the mold and hold them over the fire until they melt and form the rounded ball shape of a bullet. There are many keys and many bullets and the fire burns hot.