Telling a man that you already have a ‘man’ won’t stop him from hitting on you, but telling him that you used to be a man…

Being popular on social media is like being Monopoly money rich.

Had sex for an hour and 40 seconds last night! Thanks Daylight Savings Time!

My wife said, and I quote, “I didn’t have enough time last night to set our clocks back an hour.”

Former Nevada lawmaker John Moore’s brief alignment with the Libertarian Party unraveled in 2016, not over a misunderstanding, but over what party officials and critics described as a fundamental conflict between his voting record and the principles he sought to represent.

Instead of standing up to the GOP leadership in the Nevada Assembly, Moore switched his party registration to Libertarian in January 2016 and launched a re-election campaign under the new banner. However, his legislative record from the 2015 session quickly became a point of contention.

Among the most cited issues is Moore’s involvement in the Sandoval tax package, one of the largest tax increases in Nevada history. Although he initially opposed the measure in committee, you ultimately supported elements of the package.

He also backed the Las Vegas Raiders stadium deal, a taxpayer-supported project widely criticized by libertarians as corporate welfare. Additionally, his perceived support for public safety tax measures, including the so-called “More Cops” tax, further fueled concerns within the party.

Libertarian leadership argued that while one’s party affiliation can change quickly, one’s voting record cannot.

Critics said Moore’s shift appeared inconsistent with his prior positions, particularly after campaigning as an anti-tax Republican before rebranding as a Libertarian.

The Libertarian National Committee had contributed $10,000 to Moore’s campaign, raising the stakes of the dispute. As concerns mounted, party officials moved to distance themselves.

In 2016, the Libertarian Party formally and unanimously censured Moore and withdrew its support, citing a lack of alignment with core principles. The political fallout was reflected at the ballot box, as Moore finished third in his race, receiving roughly 7% of the vote.

The episode drew comparisons to fellow Republican lawmaker James Settelmeyer, who remained in his party and voted against the $1.5 billion tax package. While Settelmeyer’s record did not fully align with libertarian priorities, he did not seek the Libertarian label or its backing.

Party officials and observers said the distinction proved decisive. Moore’s critics argued that by seeking to represent Libertarian ideals without a consistent record to support them, he left himself vulnerable to the backlash that ultimately ended his bid.

One of the women that I work with, and who sits behind me, was giggling through much of our shift. Near the end of our workday, she began outright laughing.

You must know this: she self-describes as a ‘Black person.’ I self-describe as ‘pasty.’

“What are you laughing about?” I had asked.

She pointed to her earphones and continued laughing, before finally answering, “Eddie Griffin — he’s killing me!”

She turned back and laughed some more. By this time she had the entire room chuckling because she is generally so quiet and unassuming.

Then she looked back at me and said aloud, “I love racist jokes!”

Nearly everyone fell about with laughter of their own. Her honesty caught many off guard and that made it even funnier.

I responded, laughingly, “Why, so do I!”

Another woman, also Black, sitting across from the laughing woman looked directly at me and stated flatly: “Oh, I bet you do!”

While smiling at her, I began laughing like Eddie Murphy from ‘Beverly Hills Cop.’ As she looked away, laughter erupted.

Our supervisor, who was also laughing, eventually had to to tell everybody to settle down.

As I slowed to make the corner, I saw my wife in the turn lane headed in the opposite direction. Each of us had our window rolled down, so we waved vigorously at one another as we’d not seen each other in the past 12-hours.

“I love you!” I shouted as I sped up to match the moving traffic while signaling to merge.

My wife didn’t hear me, but the dude in the large truck did as he shoved his arm out of his window, waved and yelled back, “I love you, too!”

I laughed all the way to work.

moon moves in phase
to return in full again
healing takes time

Here’s ‘Bottom of the Stairs, Part 1…’

More sensitive than those around her
She states questioningly, “Hallelujah?”
That is not what it screams, cries, pleads.”
“I wanna hurt you!” she proclaims,
“That is what the thing you call a woman
Shouts from the bottom of those stairs.”
Blood in the room suddenly runs cold.

Ding. It was Reuben’s smartphone announcing that as an Uber driver, he had a guest to pick up at Second and Arlington, in front of the church on the corner.

Within seven-minutes he pulled up in front of the steps leading to the large double doors of the cathedral. Standing to the left of the doors came a tall nun dressed in the traditional black habit of the Order of Saint Benedict.

She stepped, as if floating on air, to the lowered front passenger window and asked, “Who are you here for?”

Her voice was soft and low.

“Sister Mary Francis,” Reuben answered.

“Great,” the Nun responded, “That’s me. A girl can never be too careful, you know.”

She opened the rear passenger door and slipped into the backseat.

“Is 14-oh-75 Mount Vida Street correct, Saint Michael’s?” Reuben asked as he waited for her to fasten her seat belt.

“Yes,” she smiled.

“I didn’t know nun’s were allowed to wear makeup,” Reuben stated as he slipped the car into drive.

“We can,” she answered, “And normally I wouldn’t while wearing such formal attire.”

“Oh,” Reuben said as he studied her face in his rear-view mirror.

He had to admit that she was very attractive and honestly couldn’t understand why a beautiful young woman would become a nun in the first place. Twice he was caught staring at her in his mirrors reflection and both time she smile demurely, looking away.

In less than 20-minutes they arrived at her destination. Reuben got out of the car, rushing to open the door for her.

As she exited, he said, “You know – I’ve always had this secret fantasy…”

“Yes,” she lilted.

“To kiss a nun,” he answered.

“I’m willing to give you a kiss – but you can never tell anyone and only if you’re Catholic and unmarried.”

“I won’t and I am,” he answered all too quickly

She leaned into him and gave him a deep and long french kiss. It was unlike any kiss he’d ever experienced in his life.

“Actually, I lied,” Reuben stated, ashamed of himself, “I’m married and Jewish.”

“I haven’t been honest with you either,” Sister Mary Francis smiled as her voice dropped, “My name’s really Frank and I’m on my way to a Halloween Party.”