No funny this week, I’m afraid. We got the news that Bayla — she’s the sleepy pooch up at the top of these pages — has a tumor in her abdomen that is doing nasty things to her insides. “You’ll know when it’s time,” the vet said, and that time will probably come within a week.
Last week I set out to tell you about the man on the train, but I got distracted by that whole episode with my headphones. I’d tell you how that turned out, but I’m still too annoyed to talk about it.
So. The man on the train. Continue reading “The man on the train and my earphones, Part 2”
I have a story about a man on a train that I’d like to tell you, but I’m not sure if I can do it, because I’m feeling rather cross at the moment. (I’ve also been reading Douglas Adams, so don’t be surprised if I write like an annoyed Englishman.)
I recently experienced what may be the most strange-dash-detestable-dash-wonderful thing I have ever encountered: The snorkel pool.
I’ve decided to post new things on Thursday, because Thursday is the most ambitiously lazy day there is. It’s too late in the week to get anything meaningful done, and too early to start screwing off like it’s Friday.
So, new stuff on Thursday. Unless I forget, or the dog has another seizure (which happened last week, and wasn’t that fun?), or a butterfly goes by and I get distracted, or some new model railroad thing I ordered arrives in the mail and I have to spend half a day staring at it and maybe moving it around the desk while making soft train noises when I am sure no one but the dog is watching. Continue reading “Thursday”
When I become President of the United States—the fact that one no longer need win the popular vote to get elected removes a major barrier between me and that office—I have decided what my first executive order will be:
“Dude,” Mark said to me, “you need to start a blog.”
…the blog was formless and empty, and nothing funny appeared on the pages. But that’ll change as soon as I figure out how this whole cockamamie web thing works.