Today we went to a restaurant called Hemingway’s. I liked the food there as much as I like the author, which is not at all. Everything we ordered was just as heavy and unpalatable as Hemingway’s prose.

What I really wanted to share about this restaurant, though, was what I saw in the bathroom. This is what one of the walls looks like:

And this is the other wall:

Neither inscription seems all that appropriate in a ladies’ bathroom. Then, however, the place redeemed itself because this is what I found next to the mirror:

A photo like this makes a lot of sense in a town where even this kind of butt has to be defended from people willing to grab it:

I’ve had a brutal day today and so I had to roll out the big guns of self-help in the form of toilet humor.

The universe is conspiring to give me no peace. In order to distract myself, I pick up a book that is guaranteed to have nothing that will remind me of what happened. And what do you think? On page four there is a pregnant gorilla who gives birth to a dead baby gorilla.

The Senators, the members of the Congress, the President – these are all very rich people. They don’t even remember what it is like to live the way you and I do – saving for a vacation, trying not to get too far into debt, putting off opening the credit card statement until we have the energy to face it. Whatever happens to the economy, they personally will not suffer. This is why they keep toying with the possibility of a new global crisis so easily.

Those jerks.

These collages are my art therapy, so please bear with me. This one is an attempt to catch the bright colors of this area.