Yeah, Saturday is now officially my day off. I’ll still read the paper (at my leisure) and share my findings on Sunday, but the first nine (9) pages (including the cover) are all Tiger Woods analysis from cranky jerks like Mandrea and Phil Mushnick. There’s so much feigned indignation, I feel like I’m at a convention for Margaret Dumont impersonators!

(crickets)

But seriously, folks. One of E…W.’s long(est)-time readers has somehow managed to escape Philadelphia and is arriving here in a few hours (and by here, I mean Manhattan). And, as the MTA has seen fit to shut down our train station for the weekend (along with every other one between Jay St. and Church Ave.), we need to wait for/take a shuttle bus in order to get to a station where we can wait for/take a train to Manhattan.

So today’s entry is short. But it also made me realize that I let this horrible newspaper co-opt too much of my weekend. Sundays are a must, but Saturdays are generally nothing more than Malkin-slathered place-holders. So… yeah. Maybe I’ll try and find a nice video for Saturdays. Or a photo of a dog in a silly hat.

Enjoy your Saturday, peeps. I’ll let you know if you missed anything in today’s paper tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Jed

P.S. —