AUNTIE, IT'S TIME FOR FRANK SINATRA!

It was a little brisk outside; clouds overhead and a coldish wind. That probably is what is keeping the streets free of drunken mid-twenties white people. Along with their fascination concerning the reprehensibles love-fest in Milwaukee. Which reminds me of someone I used to know years ago, who frequently brought impressionable tourists back to his apartment in the evening under religious pretexts and would do unspeakable things with them.
A very Christian degenerate. As many Christians are.


Probably a good thing, as Milwaukee does not have much to tempt people.
And the drug-scene quite likely leaves a lot to be desired.
Lots of Xanax, Prozac, and horse tranquilizer.
Also steroid-induced psychosis.

Plus the food is bloody awful, because it's Milwaukee for crapsakes, middle of damned well nowhere; no hotsauce, ketchup and insta-coffee are in the ethnic food section (next to real cheese), and they have to fly in lutefisk from Minnesota.
The State Vegetable is corn.

And you thought it was Billy Graham, didn't you?

They have beer. They need it.

We did not go to the usual beer place this evening, as it was crowded. The karaoke joint was far less so, although two white women were getting drunk and singing, loudly and bad, but after a few frightful numbers they left, and a young Chinese American handed a slip to the woman behind the counter, and sang better and at a more aceptable volume. It's ALWAYS time for Frank Sinatra, by the way. Always! Especially if the alternative is The Eagles.

The two songs that out-of-towners always do at the karaoke bar are "I left my heart in San Francisco" (which sucks) and "Welcome to the Hotel California" (which sucks and blows).

Earlier I had smoked my pipe while wandering down to the usual intersection. A red Virginia mixture with some nicely aged leaf and a touch of Perique. It was a very pleasant and quiet half hour. There had been no singing then. Just the occasional stumbling wreckage.


What this city needs, obviously, is a lot more Xanax and Prozac.
Not so much horse-tranquilizer.



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