Tip One Back For Old John Paul

"Mitch Hedberg and Frank Perdue die and The Deuce hangs on a little longer. How's that fair? How many chickens did the Pope sell? What did the Holy Father ever say that was funny?" - Lazarus Jones

"Somehow Lazzy I think you miss the point." - T.O. Hob

It's a scary time for the world, even if you don't realize it. We rush through things. Ignore the fact that we don't even wait for people to stop breathing before we start mourning anymore, but damn soon we're going to be naming a new Pope. One to replace good Old J.P. II. It would be tough to top what Number Two meant to the world, but I'm afraid the Catholic Church is going to finally react to the horrible things going on in house and that they'll do so in the worst possible way. They'll go for a hardliner. The RC's need a moderate, someone who will embrace the world, not just purge the evils. I'm afraid what we're going to see is someone who tries to flush out all the shit, and then blocks out everyone else, leaving dangerous gaps in the world.

I suppose it doesn't really matter though, we're all fucked anyway. Right?

So my father was back in work for the first time in awhile today, and I swear I must be able to tell the future because I know exactly how things are going to go. But there were the curveballs.

I almost bought a house today. I decided I didn't want to undergo the financial burden it would but on me. Somehow the topic came up of how much money my father has. He always says he's comfortable, in part because he doesn't know what he's worth. But the funny part is that what he considers comfortable is what I consider moderately wealthy. He's not loaded, but he's got some cash. His arguments about how he's not "wealthy" never make sense. Today's was a new low. He starts talking about some guy who owns this $40 million dollar yacht, a $35 million dollar yacht, and a $10 million dollar yacht that he only uses to go back and forth to the $40 million dollar yacht at this dock that connects to the boat club my father belongs to. So there are all these millionaires who sit around at the boat club bitching about this kid who owns about $100 million dollars worth of yacht and makes them all look bad. This kid who made ridiculous money playing golf. This kid who happens to be named Tiger Fucking Woods.

My father's plea of poverty today involved the fact that he doesn't have as much money as Tiger Woods.

Welcome to the club.

I tried to explain that if you're going to bother comparing yourself to someone you should compare it to someone in the real world, not a guy whose worth a million times more than you on a bad day. I always start with, I've got more money than the guy who squeegees my window at the traffic light, of course that's not always true, but still...

Today sucked. Work was ridiculous again, I didn't get to see Sin City, I'm tired and feel like hell. But so what?

The god damn Pope is dying. It's not just shitty, it's actually kind of sad.

You did pretty good JP, for what it's worth I was impressed.

Here's to you.

Thanks.