Rick Perry – he may not be gay but he plays one in the closet. There are those rumours swirling around the current governor of Texas. Only his broom knows for sure. Rick Perry suggested gay military personnel move out of Texas because they are not welcome here. For some, the coming out process usually starts with overkill. You know, just to prove there’s nothing homo going on. Then, of course, there is the bad hair wig when one starts to age. It’s sad, really.

Rick Perry – handpicked by Dubya his own self. When a walking onion bulb meets a waltzing turnip you get a political script for dumb and dumber. Yes, Rick Perry got to thinking (that’s what he does when he’s not fussin’ with his weave) perhaps it’s just a dandy idea that Texas secede from the nation. Which means we could get rid of any homos and liberals (there goes Austin), all the Mexicans (there goes El Paso, San Antone and Houston) and any intellectuals (who needs Rice University anyway). That leaves all the people with guns – and Dallas. The higher the hair the closer to Jesus.

But wait. There may be hope. Bill White, former mayor of Houston, is running for gov. Last Dem to grace the governor’s mansion was Ann Richards – she of the famous line about Daddy Bush being born with a silver foot in his mouth. Sigh, I miss Ann Richards. She was one ballsy, liberal, Texas broad.

The Bill White campaign had a call for entries to design a poster for the (hopefully) future governor of Texas. Not a bad way to get ideas for free, eh? I suppose one should consider it volunteering. I whipped up the poster design above and submitted it. I think it’s ok, it probably doesn’t project what they want. I imagine they would like images of people in it but I did what I could with the time I had to give.

There is something clean about cold air. It’s as if the atmosphere has been washed and folded with crisp, clear, creases. I walked outside just now to the cool, filtered, arctic air. Then, my ass got cold. So much for the romance.

The queen is sitting serenely, watching a movie while I sit here and ponder the pipes. Ah, viva la difference. It is my chore to worry about such things. And I do. The pipes. Little baby Jesus help me with the freakin’ pipes. We’ve had a pipe burst in this house the last time the temps dropped below freezing for an extended time. That was 20 years ago. Oh worrah worrah about the pipes.

I’ll leave them dripping. They should be fine. Yes, they’ll be fine. Now, I have to take the dogs for a walk. I’ll say this… I have plenty of scarves.

As the blast of cold air pushes its frostiness our way, and pondering the doomsday scenario that will be Houston, TX if the roads freeze, the realization has swept over me – I’ve never driven on icy/snowy roads. I’ve driven in the snow, but the roads were clear. That’s not to say Houston has never experienced icy roads. My memory recalls a scant few times the roads have been icy slick, but I was never fool enough to go out in that. Ah dun got me a ba-rain, grandpaw.

Perhaps there are simply a few things in life some of us are not meant to experience because I certainly don’t plan on seeking out icy roads to drive on simply for the experience (see last sentence of above paragraph).

We are in for some very cold weather around these here parts. Rarely does the temp get down below 35 let alone drop into the 20s. And it will for a few nights. Eek. Well, we have hot tea and art to keep us warm.

Only great passions can elevate the mind to great things

Speaking of art, we were delighted to receive in the mail yesterday this wonderful, little piece created by Deborah. When she visited us a few weeks ago, we broke out the art stuff on Sunday and had ourselves an art and wine day. Deborah took some pieces home, did some creating and, the best part…sent it to us! What a wonderful souvenir of a truly fun visit. I hope there are many more such excursions in the future.

In other news, in the remaining hours of one of the last days of 2009, I walked around in a drunken stupor taking pictures. Why? Because it was almost as bright as daylight and I was all like, ‘Wow. Dude.’ It was freaky weird made even more so by my state of drunken awe. I’m sure the neighbors, if they saw me, probably had index fingers poised on the last ‘1′. Needless to say, the pictures are blurry and not in a happy-drunken-accident-edgy-artist kinda way. More in a fucked-up-drunk-can’t-hold-the-camera-still kinda way. This one wins the prize:

Let's all get drunk and take pictures at midnight!