The Return of peenee

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Yes, I’m back, thank you.  Secret Agent Fred and I had a lovely time in New Orleans, although I seem to remember more of it than Fred does.  Poor dear was just the teensiest bit too enthusiastic in celebrating the New Orleans sport of drinking oneself blind.

We also got to hang out with that bloggers’ blogger, Jason, from Night is Half Gone and he and I had a very amusing afternoon eating beignets (there are some New Orleans cliches you simply have to embrace) and talking blogger talk, which essentially meant we were gossiping about you, our dear, dear readers.  My dears, the things Jason said about you.  Of course, I tried to defend you, but he was not to be denied.  For a fairly reasonable fee, I will forward you the filth he poured out about you.  Please allow sufficient time for me to make it up.

So we saw many cute boys, some of whom seem to be lost in Fred’s bourbon fueled mists, but none of whom were this cute.

Now that I’m back, I’ve turned my attention once again to the L.A. Times’ crossword puzzle which today included the clue:

“Rock from a Sock”

I was eventually able to chisel out the answer as being:

“See Stars” or possibly “Sees Tars”

Am I missing something?  I mean, I want my puzzles to be challenging, but including simple gibberish seems to be cheating.  Does this make sense to anybody?

8 responses »

  1. Is it meant to be one of those cryptic puzzles? I'm a dab hand at the NYTimes daily, but I cannot abide cryptics. My tattered mind just doesn't work that way.

    I think it's meant to be about seeing stars after being punched, but it's a terrible, terrible clue.

    And welcome home. We're on our way there now, actually (ours, sadly, not yours) – I write from the dubious comfort of an airport lounge…

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  2. I agree with Muscato . . . and think whoever is creating that particular crossword needs to be canned immediately. And welcome back, darlink!

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  3. Jason is too kind to reveal the true depths of my salacious behavior while slumming in N.O. Did he include tid-bits about the late nights upstairs at the Phoenix or lounging around the pool exposing my balls for old men to ogle at the Country Club?

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