I woke up with a bad headache after a weird dream, which is always vexatious as well as irksome. The cats have been playing too rough the last two days: neither has any idea of their size. Perry Mason is nearly three times as big as Claire Trevor so the rassling isn’t a fair fight even if she has major cattitude. They’ll be fine but I awoke to a cacophony of clashing cats. You know what that means, if you don’t take another look at the post title.

I’m irked that I was in the villager mob in my weird dream. I’ve always identified with Karloff’s monster. Besides, I’m a klutz. If I carried a burning torch, I’d scorch myself. In the immortal words of Phil Hartman as the monster:

I’m irked that Labor Day celebrations have so little to do with unions. We have this long weekend because of the labor movement. The good news is that pro-union sentiment is on the rise.

Our economy was more equitable when unions were more powerful, and the top tax rate was higher. It’s time to soak the fat boys and make them squeal about this guy:

I’m irked that I lost interest in college football during the pandemic. LSU lost to Florida State in the Dome last night and I only watched 15 minutes of the game. I didn’t even trash talk my Seminole alumni friends last week. I suspect it’s all the talk of super conferences and mega-buck teevee contracts while the main library at LSU falls apart. Talk about irksome.

Cue weird musical interlude:

I’m irked that CNN is turning into Fox News lite. CNN has lacked a viewpoint and edge for many years, but this isn’t the way to change that. The GOP will still hate you: purging Brian Stelter and John Harwood won’t placate the angry mob. They’ll hate CNN unless they go full-tilt Trumper propaganda outlet.

I’m irked that the worst-case scenarists are wetting the bed like nervous nellies again. President Biden’s stirring Independence Hall speech inspired this quote from TPM’s David Kurtz: “I fear that we will look back on this speech and with the benefit of sober hindsight realize the Republic was already lost, the threshold already crossed, the die already cast.”

He’s entitled to his opinion but that’s melodramatic claptrap. The die is never cast, and nothing is written. Kurtz should find a fainting couch and lie down.

I’m irked that I just vented about something in a publication that I respect but the endless liberal pessimism is irksome as well as vexatious. Life has always been hard, whining about it never made anything better. It’s time for the worst-case scenarists to:

I’m irked at the way people misuse the language. Here’s an example. A nun from the New Orleans area was kidnapped in Africa five months ago. She was freed recently and local anchors insisted on saying she was “in US custody” when they should have said she was in “US hands.” Here’s the irksome proof:

Custody is for perpetrators, not victims. Oy just oy.

Irksome and vexatious venting makes me feel better. I’m ready to face the September swelter without swooning now.

Finally, I was proud of my Joe Biden as George Harrison analogy last Friday. That’s why the last word goes to the OG George and friends with an admonition as to how our common language should be treated: