Chillin’ and grillin’

Thoughts from an unwise white male:

What are members of the Senate Judiciary Committee having for dinner tonight?

Grilled Sonia Sotomayor!

President Obama’s nominee for the Supreme Court wasn’t just answering questions, she was “getting grilled” by Congress. Abortion (seemed to sidestep the issue), reverse racial discrimination (wise Latina will really be grilled on that Thursday) and whether the Jessica Simpson breakup will hurt Tony Romo and the Dallas Cowboys (OK, I made that one up).

I know I’ve lived a fairly uneventful life in that I’ve never been “grilled” about anything. Oh, Mom definitely wanted to know where that cool chair came from (a pizza parlor, she made us take it back), the vice-principal vigorously queried me about what “Sticky Fingers” on that stoner’s T-shirt meant (I told him it was either sex, drugs or rock n roll related; he laughed) and an ex-girlfriend seemed fairly upset while she demanded to know my whereabouts the previous evening (all-night poker game, but I let her think otherwise; I’m a cad).

But, you know, grilled, like, on my opinions on stuff that matters, man. Not really.

By the way, “Sticky Fingers” is a Rolling Stones album.

Todds and ends:

Words that just don’t go together: Fire and Whitney.

Words that go together: Summer and fun.

Words I need to work harder so they go together: Bob and bitchen.

Words that go together well: Michelle, my belle.

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