I'm sitting here, at 11:47 on a Sunday night, having a drink. The death of George Carlin is so very sad to me. He was 71, yeah, but man, he was always there. He's been in my world for my whole life. I learned a lot of swear words from George, back in the days when I had to sneak back downstairs after my mom went to sleep, and watch Showtime with the sound turned way down low.
I've called a few friends, but no one is up this late, and so here I sit, honoring George by myself with a Mike's hard lime, watching him on Youtube. (Seriously? May Joe Pesci bless YouTube, for more reasons than just this. But I'll get to those later. Or maybe I won't. Who am I kidding? I'm barely a blogger.)
George Carlin still seemed so young to me, even as I was saying, "Damn, he looks so old..." He's only three years older than my mom. When did we all get so old?
***
On a lighter note, tomorrow I'll be participating in Monday Crafternoon, where I intend to create a loverly pair of Max-from-Where-the-Wild-Things-Are shrinky dink earrings. I am slightly obsessed lately with shrinky dinks. I made a Harold-from Harold-and-the Purple-Crayon necklace and a Wolverine (X-men! Duh!) Pendant.
But I wonder if I can't draw or google up a drawing of George Carlin. Hm.
brb.
But don't hold your breath.
edited to add:
OMG! Found it!
