Home again
Sunshine is nice, no doubt about it. But I’m really glad to be home. The bed at our hotel had a slight slant to starboard, causing Terri to feel like she was being ejected half the night. It was great to get home to our own car, house, bed, and of course our 4 legged kids.
Brunch on Sunday was great, and the rest of the trip was fairly uneventful. Hollywood has come to a dead-stop with the start of the Writer’s Guild strike today. Not even Leno will dare to tell his own jokes for a few days until they settle this thing. I suppose that, if he were to in effect “scab-write” his own material, he’d end up with nothing but fart jokes when the writers actually returned.
Then there was this thing, which needs no comment from me. Behold:
Only in Hollywood. Back on the bike tomorrow.
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