Here's a few random and mostly inappropriate thoughts on the evening following Ronald Regan's state funeral.

- First consider the riderless horse with the backwards boots. Given Reagan's two-decade-long bout with Alzheimer's, was this really a good idea? As explained on CNN, the intention here was for the "spirit" of the Great Communicator to look back at the capital and the throngs of mourners one last time as his casket was carried to the Capital Building. A symbolic, senile president riding the wrong way during his own funeral? Critics of Regan's presidency are going to have a field day with this for years to come.

- After the procession, a series of F-16s blazed over DC. I called AP during this who was there, live, on Constitution Avenue. As they passed, the sonic booms blasted in through his cell phone while I was watching the scene on the tele. It was a strange little moment and I can't think of a snotty remark for it. Is this nagging patriotism tugging at my heartstrings? Maaaaaybe. *sob*

- If I was a club DJ, I would put together a mix with audio clips from Back to the Future. Over cheesy house beats, Doc Brown would shout, "Ronald Regan? The ACTOR?!!!" over and over again. "Who's the Secretary of State? JERRY LEWIS?!!" I wonder how people would react to this. Would they be offended and start tossing things at my turn tables? Or would they appreciate it as a unique, kitschy tribute to the Gipper...and then start throwing things at my turn tables?

- Reagan doesn't have too many fans out here on the Left Coast, or in Portland at least. On Saturday night I made a trip to Voodoo Donut. If you're not familiar with the place, it's a donut shop on 3rd Avenue that caters to bar hoppers. Among the many strange and wonderful things on their menu, they offer a donut shaped like a penis. Appropriately enough, it's filled with white custard. The donut has apparently been a hit with customers and it will appear in the August issue of Playboy (side note: Falk, a friend, has a mother in the journalism biz. She wrote the piece.).

Anyway, in honor of Regan's passing, each dick donut on Saturday was stamped with "Ronnie Raygun," written in frosting. Another apt metaphor? Blog reports, you decide.

Voodoo Donut really deserves its own separate post. A few weeks back, an elderly man offered me heroin outside the place. Until I get around to writing it, here's a picture.

Their signature donut is in the middle. It's filled with strawberry jam. The other two are covered in cereal. Are they a part of a nutritious breakfast? Can they ward off a hangover born out of a night of overpriced drinks at that Barracuda place? Blog reports.....ah, you know the rest. How did a post about Regan's funeral dissolve into a blurb about heroin and penis-shaped donuts? What can I say, these things happen.