Well, dear readers, I am sitting here like so much frustrated fish, listening to a nice album entitled Vive Legrand – Nelson Riddle salutes Michel Legrand. Can’t beat those Legrand tunes and Riddle was one of the greats. So, it’s a very nice album. As to the frustration, I’ve just about had it with this creepy, crappy crud shortness of breath malarkey and the cough that comes with it. I’m convinced more than ever that it has nothing to do with my pill regimen and that it’s some kind of bug. I began doing Sambucol, which I hadn’t taken in a while and I’m hoping that will help. I may even get some Claritin-D and see if that does any good. In any case, I’m good and tired of it, I’ve had enough, begone already you despicable whatever it is you are. I did watch a documentary of three episodes about an entitled punk who raised 640-million dollars in what was and is the biggest Ponzi scheme in Hollywood history, lying at every turn to everyone – friends, wife, forging e-mails, texts, contracts – it’s unbelievable. In the course of it, he wiped out several people’s savings, again including friends. He didn’t care as long as he could buy his 5-million-dollar house in Beverlywood (right near where I lived) or his expensive cars, or trips, private jets. I guarantee you if you watch this you will hate him, and you’ll hate the way the justice system works with lazy prosectors who offer plea deals the should NEVER offer, where the loser gets to plead guilty to ONE count and gets the other equally serious six counts dismissed. So, he gets the maximum because the judge is trying to do the right thing – the maximum being twenty years. But even that’s a joke as we find out that four years have already been taken off the sentence. And you know once he’s released, he’ll find another grift. His mother doesn’t come off too well since this is clearly the child she raised and supports no matter what he did. And the woman he has an affair with all during his marriage is, for me, so grotesque and so hideous, who sits there with her fake butt and lips and says she’ll be waiting for him when he gets out. It’s almost vomit-inducing. I did write about this guy because I watched a movie he “stars” in, one of the many money-wasters he’s responsible for – it was called Last Moment of Clarity, and was terrible in every way, especially his inept performance. But the documentary was well done and it doesn’t overstay it’s welcome – it’s only 126-minutes for all three episodes. Well, what did I just find out? I knew the scum-sucker lived in Beverlywood and that it had to be near my house because his ex-wife talks about the circular little park there. Well, not only did he live near my house, he lived on the same damn street, Bolton Road, only on the west side of the park where Bolton Rd. continued into Cheviot Hills. Our house was on the east side of the park and let down to Robertson Blvd. Our address was 9406 (house is still there, pretty much looking the same), and his was 9615.
Prior to that, I got eight hours of sleep, got up, answered e-mails, ordered a Jersey Mike’s Eyetalian, it arrived and was very good, better than Subway and cheaper, then I caught up on a few things, and got all the recent stuff sold on eBay that aren’t CDs together to take to the mail place and ship this morning, then I dozed off for twenty minutes, watched the documentary, had matzo ball soup and two little pieces of kishka for the snack, shaved, and here we are.
Today, I’ll be up when I’m up, I’ll do whatever needs doing, I’ll mosey on over to the mail place and ship several packages and see what’s what, I’ll figure out food and eat whatever it might be – tempted to just have a turkey sandwich and matzo ball soup – healthy and the soup is good for what ails you. I have a few other things to do, and then I can watch, listen, and relax.
The rest of the week and weekend is just resting until I rid myself of this creepy, crappy crud I’ve got.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up when I’m up, do whatever needs doing, mosey on over to the mail place and ship a few packages, eat, and then watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Ask BK Day, the day in which you can ask me or any dear reader any old question you like and we get to give any old answer we like. So, let’s have loads of lovely questions and loads of lovely answers and loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, ready to be done with the creepy, crappy crud.