NBA All-Star Anthony Davis is requesting a trade from the New Orleans Pelicans. The trade will include a first draft pick and a unibrow-to-be-named-later.

That is a shock. There's an NBA team called the New Orleans Pelicans? When did that happen?





This week Chicago could get sixty-below-zero wind chill factors. That is colder than a hug for Donald Trump from Melania.




75% of the country will have below freezing temperatures this week. People will be shaking like the President of the Michael Jackson fan club.





Chris Christie believes Donald Trump and his campaign were simply too lazy, unsophisticated and stupid to organize collusion with Russia.

That is otherwise known as "The Eric Trump Defense.”





I passed my math test. #MakeMomHappyIn3Words





A documentary on Michael Jackson, "Leaving Neverland," reveals disturbing revelations about the singer's child molestation. 

As opposed to revelations about child molestation that aren’t disturbing?






Ex-Starbucks CEO Howard Schultz may run for President. Schultz said he cannot wait to run against Danauld and Kelmaleia.



Since you asked,

As a former grassroots, knocking-on-doors volunteer for the Chicago Democrats - now undeclared due to my conservative opinions on terrorism and immigration, but not a believer in a racist Muslim ban or ineffectual wall  - I find it genuinely upsetting how my former party, one that purports to be so tolerant and forward-thinking, can be so hypocritically judgemental and intolerant to opposing viewpoints. 

As judgemental and intolerant as any red-hatted MAGA.

Merely by pointing out the fact that 34-year-old Kamala Harris had an affair with a 64-year-old married mayor of San Francisco, Willie Brown, and then, low and behold, she was able to magically procure the San Francisco D.A. post, I am called out by a liberal on Twitter wielding barely-hidden implications of sexism and or racism.

Another liberal associate cannot contain his glee when a mass shooter turns out to be a white far-right Christian as opposed to a non-white Muslim. WTF?

If liberals are so damned smart how come they lose so goddamn always? (to paraphrase Will McAvoy)

If the Democrats honestly think they can win in the 30% still-loves-a-racist-Donald Trump era running a Kamala Harris, a younger more ethnic and strident Hillary, or an old professorial coot like Bernie Sanders, bless his well-meaning Larry Sanders heart, then the Democrats are dumber than I thought.

The Democrats need a Beto O'Rourke or a female Beto and they need one now.

The best friend the Democrats have right now is Donald Trump. If they just let Trump be the oafish, clumsy, idiotic tool that he naturally is, ala his ham-fisted bumbling of the shutdown and caving on the wall, there is no way the Democrats can lose in 2020. 

If the Republicans were smart, they would get on their knees and pray Trump resigns and start selecting a Republican version of Beta O'Rourke. 

A smart, but compassionate moderate Republican tough on immigration? That would be a hard ticket to beat.



Let us dish some fun inside poop on the vaunted counter-culture Americana rebels, the Hell’s Angels.

How, Lex, you ask, are you privy to such inside poop on the Hell’s Angels? My college girlfriend’s mom was a juror on their famous Oakland drug trial circa 1980. My girlfriend’s mom was a sweetheart and smart as hell. Her opinion was gospel as far as I was concerned. (In many ways she reminded me of my mom) 

She was impressed in general with the Angels. Their cocaine distribution was run like a top-notch business. They never got in fights with someone who did not ask for it. In her opinion, they seemed intelligent and thoughtful.

In Santa Barbara in about 1981, I was working security at the Santa Barbara County Bowl. Waylon Jennings was playing and the Hell’s Angels roared up with about 20 bikes. They had backstage passes. “I am dead,” I thought. 

No, they were incredibly cool and nice. Talked to one long-bearded giant named Tiny. He was 6.6, 300 pounds and a sweetheart. If someone got rowdy, they offered to intervene making our job easier. Having the Hell’s Angels as backup was the best gig I ever did as working security at the County Bowl.



Hell’s Angels fun fact #1:

It was widely known the connection between the Hell’s Angels and the L.A. entertainment community, mostly music in 1967, was brokered by none other than Charles Manson. Charlie was the liaison. Charlie was the first to make the odd and uneasy connection between outlaw bikers and rock and roll. Artists like Neil Young and Waylon Jennings embraced it. Probably for the cocaine connection. And the fashion. 





Hell’s Angels fun fact #2:

Although considered by such counter culture luminaries as Ken Kesey as part of their movement because of their love of drugs and rampant sex orgies, the Hell’s Angel’s political views were far right wing and anti-dove. They would frequently stomp hippies protesting against the war. Many Angels were Vietnam vets.




Hell’s Angels fun fact #3: (this one could get me stomped) 

For a macho, gang banging and bar fighting motorcycle gang, the Hell’s Angels were no strangers at all to homosexuality. Gay leather bars in San Francisco were hosts to many Hell’s Angels. The Angels had many gay groupies. Hunter S. Thompson wrote about how many Angel’s did not consider it odd to, well, get serviced underneath a table at a biker bar by a gay male groupie.


Saw a documentary on Netflix about Donald Trump and a former casino executive told a telling story. It appears the top executives of the two Atlantic City, New Jersey casinos asked Trump to send him his helicopter so they could make it to a meeting in New York. Trump said no. So they had to hire a helicopter. 

(Trump was in New York with his helicopter) The helicopter with all of Trump's closest, hand-picked executives crashed and they all died. Trump took the opportunity to go to the press and lie that he was almost on that doomed helicopter. 

Not only did Trump show no empathy for his arguably closest acquaintances dying, but he also lied to spin the story to get sympathetic publicity. 

All at once the executive telling the story said he learned that Trump has no loyalty, no empathy and he cannot tell the truth to save his life.  




From this moment on, January 25, 2019, will be deemed by me as Black Friday.

Here is the laundry list of things that happened:

3:00 AM bronchitis/asthma attack piggybacked by an anxiety/existential attack.

Movers clear out my house of 24 years.

Hotel desk clerk threatens to call the police on me

Coughing fit that leads to A, throwing up, B, throwing out a rib, C, almost blacking out.

Addled mind and panic attacks due to a low-grade fever and sleep deprivation.

Following Black Friday, I came back to the house to get some sympathy from my newly ex-wife. She proceeds to chew my ass out for not helping her clean up the house enough. On the bright side, this makes the concept of being divorced a lot easier to take.

One of the lowlights of the weekend was we had a dozen garbage bags I had to get rid of before the house got tented. So, with a fever and unable to breathe without hard wheezing, I go up and down the street putting garbage in neighbors’ containers who had extra room. 

With the beeping trash truck coming down the street and backing, I am racing to get rid of the last two garbage bags. As I grab them from the garage, sweating and coughing and wheezing, my newly ex-wife yells from the house,

“Don’t put the garbage bag in the blue recycle bin.”

Words cannot convey how good it felt to, A, put that bag in the blue recycle bin and, B, reflect on the fact that I was now divorced.

When I was forced from my house, I went to check in at a Residence Inn because it was near our house and they took dogs.

The 60-year-old woman desk clerk was having an animated discussion on the phone in her Melania-trump accent. The conversation sounded to me to be going in circles and could have ended five minutes before it did with me standing there as a captive audience. 

When she hung up the phone, she was visibly upset and barked, “I am the only one working now,” as a way of explaining making me stand there for ten minutes.  She then proceeded to bark at me me my room was not ready, it was not on the first floor as I requested and the rate of the room had gone up $100 because they were sold out.

Here I was on a horrible day hoping to treat this stay at the hotel like a staycation, instead, I was being abused by the crankiest clerk at the DMV. 

When I told her their being full did not have any bearing on the cost of my room, she threatened to call the police. She did not pass go, did not say “I don’t like your tone” and my tone was sarcastic, she went right to calling the police.

She came within a keyboard click of cancelling my room with no refund, but I talked her out of it. 

(The good news is, when I explained this to a not-insane desk clerk, they knocked the $`100 off my room charge)  

Driving to get some Chinese food for dinner, I was lost in my depressive, self-pity funk. "Let it Be" came on the radio. It washed over me like when you're freezing cold and you step into a hot shower. And when the Eric Clapton guitar solo kicked in, I was moved to happy tears. 

Cut to: today. Taco Tuesday. 

I check into my new Residence Inn in Carlsbad, the desk clerk was not insane, in fact, downright charming. And, it turns out, a former neighbor of mine in Carmel Valley. 

So I take Wally for a walk. I come across a food court - the hotel is in a corporate industrial complex -  and ask a guy eating a sandwich in the food court if he knew of a bar nearby. He did not. No sooner than I turn around I see this great Mexican place and they are offering Taco Tuesday for $2 bucks a taco. And large Margaritas were $5.

So I sat on the patio with Wally, while I was eating my awesome carnitas tacos and sipping my Maggie. The highlight of the last ten days no doubt. Maybe things are going to work out, I thought. 

My waiter was a Seth Rogan look-and-sound-alike named Eric. Eric was having his bachelor party this weekend. He’s from Boston and it also turned into a Super Bowl party.

For his tip, I gave him a bunch of ones on the condition at least one of them ended up in a stripper’s g-string. He assured me it would.

As I was getting ready to gather up Wally and leave the sandwich guy walked by on the sidewalk and saw me on the patio and said, “Hey, I see you found your place.”

Now, this guy appeared to be a fit, 48-year-old guy who, if you told me he was the CFO of one of the local software companies, I would say that seems about right. When I told him sipping a margarita and eating mini tacos was the highlight of my awful week, he said,

“My last 20 years have been a nightmare.” 

This guy, who looks like your fun, golf-loving neighbor, told me he was living in a homeless shelter and, as awful as it was, it was the best he has had it in years. 

He used to live in his BMW until it was stolen. He paid $1000 for a van until the transmission gave out, then he was fully homeless. I told him I hope his luck changes. We might get together next Tuesday for tacos. 

The moral? Stop complaining. It does no good. And it won’t be hard to find someone who has it a lot worse.