Last Tuesday Kathy Griffin (an American comedian) posted a video of herself holding a fake, bloodied, 
decapitated Donald Trump head. But much as I detest him (and his cohorts) and everything they’ve said, done and stand for, I did not find it at all amusing.
Frankly, I’ve never been a fan of hers. I don’t find her particular brand of humour even remotely funny. Definitely not my cup of tea.
With this video, however, she outdid herself; Continue reading
Yes, I’m superstitious. And that’s why I try to be careful about making predictions. Prognosticating. Assuming. Planning ahead. Counting my chickens. Because the last thing I want to do is jinx 
myself. Put a hex on things. You know. Screw things up. And then curse myself forever and a day for having such a big mouth, for blowing it.
So let’s just say the signs are all pointing in the right direction.
Saturday, while I was out and about, I could see that restaurants and cafes had their terraces open; and, people were out there, enjoying the weather. The streets were packed. Old folks, Continue reading
We’re just days into the New Year and here I am, complaining. Well, not really complaining. It’s more like ‘wondering’. Or making 
an observation. Or questioning. I’m confused, is all. For the life of me I can’t figure out why we make such a big deal out of New Year’s Eve. Okay, okay, okay, I get the significance of beginning a new year. Truly I do. But why the insistence on wearing silly hats and cranking noisemakers and watching balls drop and drinking ourselves into oblivion? What’s the point of all that?
Speaking strictly for myself, I’ve never liked New Year’s Eve. In fact, I kinda loathe it. Too many people trying way to hard to have a good time. Way too many people who can’t hold their liquor getting way too drunk. Drunk to the point of crying, drunk to the point of sharing the most intimate details of their lives with virtual strangers, drunk to the point of making passes at their best friends’ husbands (or vice versa), drunk to the point of passing out or, even worse, Continue reading
What’s going on? Am I just getting cranky and intolerant in my old age? Because I don’t know about you, but it sure feels like I’m living in a world where manners and civility are fast becoming
endangered species.
A world where callous, boorish, insensitive, classless, vile behaviour is, sadly, becoming the norm; and is generally accepted, excused, ignored, overlooked and, sometimes, even rewarded.
Of what do I speak?
If, in the end, the NBA does find a way to make Donald Sterling sell the Clippers he will make pots and pots and pots of money. He’ll laugh all the way to the bank. And he’ll still be a racist pig. And a womanizer. And a slum landlord. He’s 80 years old and he’s got prostate cancer. He’s not about to change any time soon. And why would he? He’s gotten away with it so far.
If, in the end, by some miracle Toronto’s Mayor, Rob Ford, comes out of rehab and never smokes crack or drinks Continue reading
No, it’s not a typo. Or a spelling mistake. I didn’t mean to write ‘trails’. I meant to write exactly what I wrote: ‘Tales”. “Meandering Tales”. David Sedaris was in 
town last night. And I went with a friend. It was her idea. I didn’t even know he was coming.
I’m a fan, so I agreed immediately. And his ‘show’ was every bit as good as I’d hoped. Maybe even better.
The place was packed; and it’s a very large venue. Sometimes I think I really do walk around in a fog. That I’m oblivious to what’s going on all around me. I didn’t realize he was so popular. I didn’t expect it to be sold-out.
What planet do I inhabit? Really.
H E L L O.
Earth calling Fransi, I guess.
In case you’re not familiar with him, he’s a writer. A very prolific writer. An author. And humorist. And comedian. And
365 And Counting 