I've had trouble coming up with blog topics in the past, but this is the bottom of the well of nothingness I'm scraping tonight, folks.
Bone dry.
Sorry. I've spent the last hour (2, almost), trying to compose something witty and kind about the 2 perfectly pleasant (in perfectly distinct ways) outings from Thursday and Friday. Or my perfect 12.5-miler on Saturday night, followed by pleasant cocktail party with theater friends. Or, generally, how pleasant the weekend was.
Whether it is fatigue or a chocolate hangover (a full bag of Hershey's kisses during a YAGMCB production meeting tonight) or the unanticipated speeding up of normal brain cell disintegration that comes with aging -- I have been stopped in my tracks again and again and have ended up with what you're now reading.
Well, we all could have it worse than having to read a stilted piece of writing from me. We all could have had a weekend like Roman Polanski -- thinking he was on his way to Switzerland for a lifetime achievement award and ending up in the clink for a 32-year-old sex crime that he's successfully evaded for 31 years, since the Los Angeles District Attorney's office has nothing more pressing to worry about.
OK, I've got to just stop. This is painful. Tune in tomorrow, if you dare....
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1 comment:
Your comment about the LA district attorney makes it seem like you think Polanski's arrest is wrong.
So you are saying that's ok for an adult male to rape a 13 year girl and get away with it.
Since it's been 31 years...it's ok?
Since Polanski is famous and an artist, it's ok?
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