Rain, insane and Michael Caine

God/Allah/Higher Power of your choice seems bent on wiping the DG off the map today with lots and lots of rain. This is the view down our driveway with a church parking lot across the street:

The insane part came earlier this morning in trying to force our two Boston Terriers outside in this end-of-days rain to go potty. Simply put: they weren't having it. The scene was far too chaotic to document, but here's a pic of Smitty, still reeling from the experience. Note the incensed, 'Well, I never!' look on her face:

And finally, here's a (hilarious) Michael Caine-off twixt Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon from 'The Trip':

Call your friends at Faith & Freedom today!

1-855-600-6059

That number has come up on our landline (so old school!) every day, sometimes multiple times a day, for the last month. Now that I'm home and have time to pay attention to these things, the non-stop calling is starting to drive me (more) bonkers.

Last week, I finally plugged the number into Google, only to find it belongs to my old pal, Ralph Reed and his Faith & Freedom
outfit!

Oh, Ralph, you scamp! And here I thought you crawled back into the dank hole from whence you came after the culture wars of the 90s—after you decimated the Christian Coalition and cozied up to Jack Abramoff in a scheme to rip of Indian casinos.

But no, here you are, calling me every damned day, telling me that Obama is destroying this country with his health care act and that big government is the devil and blah, blah, blah, blah.

It's not me, Ralph, it's you.

And that's why I've emailed the Illinois and Georgia States Attorneys' offices to report your sorry ass, first for violating the National Do Not Call list (which nobody seems to care about anyway), but second—and more importantly—just for being a gigantic, dumber-than-hell douche bag.

Because if that isn't illegal by now, then it should be.

So, Ralph, here's the deal: if you keep calling me, I'll keep calling you.

Everyday, same time, same station...until you either implode under the weight of your own crazy or I rip the phone out of the wall.

Whichever comes first.

Thank you, Louie...

...for what I know will be an absolutely cathartic standup special on HBO tonight.

And for skillfully deconstructing the typical promotions that go with having a standup special on HBO.

I get it that the gold microphone thing is bullshit...but maybe try gold shoes.

It worked for Pryor.

Rachel Maddow came to Downers Grove today

Really! Which gives me hope for this godforsaken suburban hell that is DuPage County.

(Okay, okay: it's a decent place to settle and a nice place to raise kids (I assume)—but the politics out here are seriously messed up and moreover, I'm hardwired to hate all suburbia everywhere. Call it a longstanding habit.)

Anyway, thanks to my buddy Genene, I got to peek in on Rachel and the folks from Anderson's Bookshop prior to her talk at the Tivoli. At a small store next to the theater, they had formed an assembly line setup for Maddow to sign copies of her book on our ever-growing/out-of-control military industrial complex, Drift.

Two things:

1.  The folks at Anderson's were deadly serious about getting those books signed—I haven't seen such stoic, determined efficiency since my short-lived stint in my high school's color guard.
(Those bitches with the flags were so not fooling around.)

2.  Madds (that's what I call her in my head) was her usual cheery self, even pausing to look up from her signing and smile at us.

I wanted to throw myself at her feet and shout, "Please either move your show to Chicago so I can work for you or take me with you back to civilization!"

But I figured I wouldn't be the first to do that, so I restrained myself.

Looking forward to reading her book...

Do the western Chicago suburbs really suck this bad?

Because, seriously. From the DG Patch, yesterday:

I wonder if, with this 4th presumed suicide-by-train on the BNSF line in a little over one month, Metra is rethinking its 'this is not a pattern' stance.

This is what happens...

...when you order a cell phone cover that doesn't quite fit your cell phone. I'm not proud of my (literal) hack job, but I also wasn't going to pay another 13 bucks to get another one. (or argue with Cruzerlite that, despite their claims, online via Amazon, that this fits the HTC One, it's really designed for (per the packaging that showed up) the Samsung Galaxy S3.)

Full disclosure:  this phone is actually an HTC One X, so had I really been paying attention, I shouldn't have gone ordering a cover for the HTC One. And given that I've been an Apple consumer for years, I should be used to this constant flow of new versions of hardware and software, with fundamentally (and irritatingly) incremental/non-essential changes in the end product.

Basically: I'm about three steps from having a full-on old person rant about how there's just too much stuff in the world today, dammit.

And, also this.

Newsflash: chicks dig beer, too!

Thanks, Daily Herald...I woulda never known.