theBreeze

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Dear Laura,

Some say it has to happen – nationalization of big oil. George has his finger on that pulse, ‘cept it appears he regards the oil industry itself as being the government. He has been found working for them. Not so in Venezuela, which is about to take over US oil there.

Venezuelan Rodrigo Cabezas, president of the National Assembly's finance commission, just announced that all oil projects in the Orinoco River basin should be under state control. "It is necessary to approve a nationalization law for the Orinoco belt in order to recover a majority stake and control Venezuela's oil future. The fact that we don't have a majority stake is a humiliation," Cabezas said.

Projects are currently controlled by U.S.-based Exxon, ConocoPhillips and Chevron, France's Total SA and the U.K.-based BP PLC. Other oil fields in the country were brought under state-controlled joint ventures earlier this year, and the government has been seeking legal revisions to allow similar measures in the Orinoco.

So, please nag George to talk to his fraternity brothers, have them retire with more money than most countries, nationalize oil here in the good old USA (George can smirk here) and return oil and gasoline to the American public.

"Good morning Cuz." Kenny wrote. "I am getting the lobsters when the place opens - 9:00 AM. That should put us on the road around 9:30, and give us an ETA of 2:00."

"Linda suggested that we could leave earlier in the morning by buying everything the night before. I told her that the lobsters would grow a little bigger by letting them stay in the tank over night."

I first saw her in the frozen food isle of the local ACME grocery store. I stalked her. She was perfect! And then. And then, she stopped at the book and magazines section. I snuck around the back of the greeting cards to get a better look at what she was reading. Dismay! - she had found me out, or would, all too soon.

Frank Baby!
WoW! Thanks for the great idea. I told George about it last night, just before we brought the dog to the bed. Well, George jumps up right up and calls Condi over from her chair in the corner. In no time at all, there are a gazillion advisors around, and the dog.

Here's what they came up with.

Release the prisoners from Guantanamo.
Declare Cuba a hotbed haven of al Qaeda operatives.
Bomb the BGeezers out of everything.
Declare victory (one out of seven is good these days ~ what with Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, Korea, Syria, Israel)
Confiscate all financial claims from American citizens and corporations, and use the money to pay for the other wars.

Laura

Hi Laura,
I'll bet you guys are weary of all the wars going on. I imagine the rocks thrown at the windows are even worse. It came upon me in a flash that there is a nifty distraction George can spin to look like a hero! He may even be able to smirk during an announcement of his new plan. Here it is.

You know, Fidel is pretty sick, or weary too. Even Cardinal Cuba calls for everyone to stay seated in the boat.

A bad idea is to allow US companies and thousands of people whose possessions were confiscated by Cuba after the 1959 revolution to demand payback for their expropriated assets.

A good idea would be for George to forgive all bad debts, apologize to the people of Cuba, go see Fidel, and give him a big hug.

Good image, huh?

"Tuesday already. I have so much to do, I hope there's an extra work day at the end of the week."

Heart raging, erratically booming - cold sweat. I awoke with wide eyes. It was 4:14 AM. I reached over to the table, and knocked what was left of a triple vodka gimlet onto the floor. Actually, onto a pile of books on the floor, most half read, all not so good. Maybe the lime juice would impart some flavour to them, or at least draw large black ants. Marie likes them in cereal, along with cut up pieces of lipstick. Not one for shopping, cereal consists of potato chips in ginger ale.

I stared at the glowing green digits of the clock, wondering if the light was slowly mutating my genes. Maybe it was a good mutation.

How goes your morning? I pruned some tree limbs in the heat yesterday. It was not really so hot. Perhaps switching from diet Pepsi to refrigerator water and ice is cleansing me of sticky molecules that make one feel hot. The sticky ones are longer, bumpier than H2O, and may have more trouble escaping, like cars lined up after a drive-in movie.

Remember the hotdogs in aluminum bags? Cardboard pizza? Fireworks? Playground in front of the screen? live entertainment? sitting on a patio with sticky steel tables in front of the projection booth before returning to the car? Bugs flying into the flourescent lights above the trough urinals? Sitting on the front fenders watching the movie, and the neighboring cars occupants? Wandering on the roads checking kids out? The rollercoaster feeling of running down the parking places slopes in the dark? The countdown movie? It was often as good as the feature. Do I recall seeing guys on screen in slacks and plaid shirts with monster heads on their shoulders - Green Men from Mars?

In-car heaters in the dead of winter in at a drive-in on the road to Woonsocket? Waiting later for a snow plow to follow up the hill to Ronnie's Orzechowicz' house? She was sweet. So was Lenear Rudinsky, who owned a black 56 Ford, and used to pick me up at St. Ray's before I could drive. And Pamela Kline, who talked a policeman out of arresting us for having half a sixpack at Colt's drive, and who was later solely instrumental in my Mom having the State police arrest me for stealing my own car?

Then Ed Bailey, rookie Pawtucket cop and best friend since we could walk, recently hired by the Attleboro police, having a gang of his cronies stopping cars at the RI - MASS border by the State Line Resturant? And having me arrested. They drove me handcuffed in the back seat of a patrol car not to the barracks, but to a dirt road behind the reservoir - I knew I was gonna get punished, a pre-booking routine I'd never forget in case a judge got it all wrong. Only to find it was Ed in the front right seat, with a trunk full of pizzas and beer? Spotlights later illuminating beer can targets.

Last night I went outside to again enjoy seeing a sliver of orange Moon. And this morning a heavy Sun split by horizontal dawn clouds lurked at the tree lines.

I digress. It's still Tuesday. Maybe it's the heat.