Hey, GOP Congress — let’s just carve out, say, $1,000 from the national fisc, all twenties, and give the rest to Trump. Deal?
Kudos to the great skaters of the Montreal Victoire for claiming the Walter Cup against Ottawa last night, worthy opponents. It was a great year for the league. How great? Well, it’s expanding from 8 teams all the way up to twelve, including new skaters in Detroit. Will have to time a visit to Sam et al to take in a game next year. Just a shame our Sarah’s Sirens fell just a smidge short of a playoff spot. Next year for sure, babe!
We asked our style and culture consultant de Armas about Miranda KERR, who was in the puzzle today, boringly clued with “Model Miranda,” and she reamed us out!! “It took you idiots over a thousand posts to come up with her!!??” Ana asked. “Get Phil on it right away — you’ll plotz.”
She was right.
Miranda is 43 and has four kids. She was married to actor Orlando Bloom and had a son with him who’s 15 now. After they split amicably, she married billionaire Snapchat CEO Evan Spiegel with whom she’s had three sons, the youngest of which turned two in January. She’s an Aussie.
Nothing major to play with from the puzzle today. I came up with:
WREAKS stinks.
What Mickey wears when he’s cross-dressing: MINISKIRT. [Get it? Think mice.]
How to greet the great Spanish surrealist: Hello DALI.
I loved one that egs came up with yesterday. The clue was “Biting” and the answer was ACERB.
Per egs: ACERB and a Croat walk into a bar . . . .
I drew on my inner Carl and tacked on: “Ha! Did they order a Black Russian? Who picked up the Czech?”
Two visitors to the puzzle yesterday were the great John CLEESE, whom I hadn’t seen there before, which is surprising given his three E’s, and CLARA Bow, the silent film star, and a Brooklyn girl.
Well, we’re about a third of the way through the baseball season (50 games or so) and our Gnats are at 25-25, tied with the Phils and ahead of the Mets. We love the new manager, Blake Lively, or whatever the hell his name is. And get this — they lead all of MLB in runs scored per game. Ha cha cha! (Over 5.5 — almost a half run more than the Dodgers.) Kinehora. Just need to tighten up the fielding and get the pitching to simmer down, esp the starters.
It’s been a fun season so far. We’ll be catching them against the Pods a week from Sunday, and against the Royals later in June. Parking costs more than the tickets down there. I found a good deal via Spot Hero for just $14 only about a mile away from the stadium. But we’ll be taking the Metro for the Sunday game. Got our Senior Metro discount cards — just have to figure out how to use them again.
Here’s CJ Abrams, the shortstop who’s making everyone forget Trea Turner.
From the Owl Chatter You-Can’t-Make-This-Stuff-Up Dept: This headline is from the NY Times, not The Onion.
Tennessee Calls Off Lethal Injection After Staff Can’t Find a ‘Suitable Vein’
Oy.
There is a big soft spot in my heart for nurses. (Hi Caity!) So here’s a poem by one. It’s called “Observations of an OB/GYN Nurse” and is by Lois Parker Edstrom. It’s from today’s Writer’s Almanac.
In memory of Dr. Tom Critchfield
The babies, CEOs of his life,
set the schedule, write the script.
They arrive in predawn hours
and the middle of the afternoon
unaware of an overflowing
waiting room or his need for a few
hours of uninterrupted sleep.
The police recognize his car,
escort him to the hospital
for those middle of the night calls.
Surgery, lunch in the hospital cafeteria,
then office hours where the babies,
bundled in mother’s arms,
check in for a six-week visit
peaceful and slumbering, as if making up
for the sleep he missed.
At career’s end, twin granddaughters
born on his birthday.
Memories streak across the mind’s sky.
We need their bright, yet fleeting comfort.
His life of births, his solitary death.
This night Venus trembles
below the crescent moon
like a glistening tear.
See you tomorrow, Chatterheads. Don’t give up the ship!
The Wellington Files 