The final night is boring. Few big name speakers.
Overall, it’s been a staid affair. No invocations of Lucifer. No chants about jailing Mr Trump. No thinly-veiled bigotry. No overt bigotry. No Chicken Little syndrome. No emocons.
OK I wrote too soon. There’s Katy Perry without the left shark.
Ms Clinton says Mr Trump is a small man, stiffs working Americans, and can’t be trusted with nukes.
And she’s right.
Forget Harry Potter. Mesut Özil is a real wizard.
There’s nothing wrong with sanctuary cities. They should have given sanctuary to Cecil the Lion though.
At the moment, Adele is the greatest pop singer not named Taylor Swift or Katy Perry.
Gaga no longer qualifies as a pop artist. She’s now reached diva status.
The best thing about the film “Back to the Future” was the thumping volume of Huey Lewis and the News’ “The Power of Love.”
Canada reached peak cool during the reign of Margaret Trudeau.
Xi Jinping is the first pirate to meet a British monarch since Walter Raleigh. Arrr!
Drink is quite the muse. It always will be.
Until it’s seen in the cafes of Brooklyn, Neukölln, or East London, it isn’t a real thing.
I was a seapunk in 2001, long before seapunk was invented.
I look forward to seeing Russell Brand at the barricades. Hopefully, he’ll give his personal driver the day off so that s/he might join in the revolutionary festivities. I’ll never forgive him for what he did to Katy Perry.
Idiot television interviewers should be shunned like ebola.