It’s all in my head
Welcome to this week’s Reno News & Review.
I’m feeling disjointed today, and you know what they say, “A drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts.” And I’m totally sober.
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When I was a kid, 13 or 14 years old, I wanted my pen name to be Random Xess. I still think Random would be a great first name. I also think Geronimo Bang would be a good pen name. I think Franco American would be a good nom de plume. And I think a great porn name would be Barrel O. Love.
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Jeff Johnson and I went to the Nevada Opera Production of Orpheus in the Underworld on Sunday. It was a fine production, putting me completely at my ease, particularly before the intermission. I was curious about one thing, though: The cheerleaders who passed around gambling chips during the intermission. There was a sort of logo for the show on one side. On the other was an advertisement for the Wild Horse Resort and Spa. I wonder how many of those very proper opera buffs realized those cheerleaders were presenting husbands with advertisements for the local brothel. I can’t say this with complete certainty, but I’ll bet there are many operas in this country that don’t offer sponsorship to the local whorehouse. Next week, we’re going rollerblading.
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I don’t care what anyone says. People who plant their tomatoes, peppers or other nightshades based on whether there is snow on Peavine are crazy. Every year, I have friends who plant early, hoping against hope that summer is already here. Every year, I get to laugh at them when that last freeze blows through. However, this weekend I did plant carrots, beets, onions and peas.
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Does anyone wonder about the Nevada Highway Users Coalition, the people running those “legislators focus on the highways” advertisments? Would you believe its a coalition of highway builders?