Thursday, June 08, 2006


Any time I think that things are supposed to make sense I get out my DVD of the complete first season of My Name is Earl and get a dose of what passes for reality.

One of my oldest friends, Kathryn's Uncle Stanley (an Outlaw biker enforcer), once told a judge in Seminole County that he, a convicted felon but nice guy, had a drinking problem... he didn't have enough money to drink as much as he needed. And the judge let him go. Then Stan didn't leave but stayed behind the podium with the judge so that he could give the judge suggestions on how to sentence the next miscreants. True.

Hell, I could write scripts for Garcia for the Earl saga.

The same Stanley used to park his spare girlfriends at my house until he was ready for them. I once had four (!) women... good looking dancer babes... waiting for Stan at my house. Of course, they wouldn't do anything for me. Just Stan. He would take them for rides on my Harley and take all their money. Hell, he paid the light bill month after month with hooker money. Sigh.

Shit. The show "My Name is Earl" is the only thing on TV that is good. They had a Earl telethon last night. I was there!

Now THAT's Karma!