A Link To Centuries
All I want for Christmas is a “no soliciting” sign. I had one before but a solicitor stole it from my door. I know because I was inside ignoring them when it happened. And, true story, they were selling for the company where I worked. Unbelievable.
In the meantime…
It was a Saturday afternoon. My wife and I were hanging out in the living room with the cats. I wasn’t wearing pants. Suddenly, there came a sound from the door. The cats ran away. The moment was lost.
You know that knock? The one that says, “Hey, it’s me.” It goes like this:
Knock knock!
Knock knock knock knock knock knock.
Knock knock!
I heard that sound and cocked an ear. “Who the hell can that be?” I gasped.
No worries. It was a just a salesperson.
Storming The Castle
Once every lifetime or so I am granted the gift of insight. There’s a flash of light and suddenly I know something. The words that immediately follow the flash are generally pithy and pregnant with deep meaning.
“Holy shit! Fuck yeah.”
You can quote me on that.
Something like this happened to me the other day. And, my lords and ladies, it happened whilst my castle was under siege. It was a very trebuchet experience. I shall regale you with the tale anon.
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School’s In For Bummer
Greetings and solicitations!
It used to be that the school year was a happy time. A time when the junior-sized asshole humans were (mostly) out from underfoot. Ahhhh. Those were the days.
No more.
You can blame it all on politics and unions and Tea Parties and partisanship and vouchers and hog wallerin’ and mud slingin’ and clean campaigns and dirty campaigns and COLA and inflation and school boards and lots, lots more.
Is an army of darkness one of the seven seals of Armageddon? Or maybe it was a vial? I can never keep those things straight.
Make no mistake. Let me be clear. War has been declared. And war is Hell. Tranquility has been attacked and tranquility will be defended. Even if I have to asplode.
If you want to enlist, make the jump.
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