I sent the Director out for a photo shoot, impromptu to capture a different kind of Quebec man.
We were at the bank, about to get some cash when I spied a pick-up truck with a confederate flag on the back window. His truck had Quebec tags. A curious thing. I squinted harder at the old man in the cab. Was he American? Why was he taking such a hard stand way up North, past yankee territory to something much worse?
“Go and get a photo of the flag on that guy’s truck,” I pointed.
She looked ahead and emitted an I don’t want to noise. “Why?” Continue reading
…it’s more an Alpha male dog the size of my foot.
The dog I inherited is a complete asshole to everyone but the German, the Director, and me — to whom he’s most devoted. He was my mom’s dog for a brief respite between shelters. She worried about what would happen to him when if she died. I’ll take him, the German told her. She breathed a sigh of relief with what little breath she had left.
People used their words at the last Democratic candidates’ debate, umpteen days ago. And while the way they used them, the words, might have changed, since the last debate (old news), they’re still part of their permanent record. We might as well see what they look like.
A reminder: I copied and pasted the transcript and pasted each speaker into wordle.
My sister breezed through my pretty word clouds in the last post and didn’t know what to think of them because, in her words,
“What’s the big deal? It’s just a bunch of words in a design.”
Since I missed all of last night’s Republican Debate, as well as all of the previous debates I said to myself, “why not let a professional tell me what happened?” I didn’t use to be this way, but it’s no fun watching debates by myself since I mostly hang out with Canadians and most of them don’t want to watch American politics.
So I read a live-slog through last night’s performances with the Stranger Election Control Board doing the deed. At the 8:02 part of the debate, they said this: