…as long as we’re not trusting him with food:)
What follows is stream of conciousness stuff that has been bouncing around in my head since my last post. Enjoy…or not…whatever.
Fuck allergies. Fuck them with a white hot metal fencepost wrapped in razor wire. Twice.
I’m pretty sure that most of the populace of the United States agrees with me that if our soldiers were not in Mid East and we didn’t need the oil, the whole area could vanish from the face of the earth and we would not give a rats ass.
If you want an escape from the “Will winter NEVER end?” blues, it’s hard to beat eating a salad made from tender new greens outta your garden.
While it does not irredeemably suck ass, “Iron Chef America” is still a very pale imitation of the original. Maybe the addition of Cat Cora as the first female Iron Chef will help kick things up a notch.
After a rather long while, it looks as tho I’ll soon be doing some RPG writing again.
If Terri Schiavo had been my wife, there is no way in hell I would have let her languish for 15 fuckin’ years. She would have had a quick and painless death long ago and her family, church, the courts and the government be damned.
“Lost” gets stranger by the episode, yet Grace and I are powerless to turn away. Maybe that’s why they titled it “Lost”.
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