Sunday, December 21, 2008

Writing On The New Confuser


So Linda Lou and Ming the Merciless are lying on the couch for a Sunday afternoon nap and I am trying to blog on the new infernal machine. I forgot how easy it is to type on a brand new keyboard. There are a couple of downsides, though. I can barely point an' click with the new mouse, or maybe it's just the new mousepad is so smooth. Another minor downside is the new monitor screen has about a two-two and a half inch strip down the right side that has the clock, some headlines and a bunch of our pictures scrolling through, one at a time, over and over. Including lots of pictures of Eddie. I wish I knew where he is and how he's doing.

In other news I durned near burned up the neighborhood yesterday. We had a bunch of boxes so I took them out to burn them. Well, as soon as the fire was going good, the wind came up, hard and dry. The grass and weeds were also very dry. Ooops! We managed to get it out before the house burned down, though. Still, had all the neighbors investigating the fire, kind of embarrassing. Especially since I was doing this in the front yard where our hose doesn't reach, I wanted to burn a stubborn patch of bushes that are too thick to mow.

Note to self: Never again try to burn stuff outside while wearing flip flops. Yes, it was that warm, thing is, the wind picked up as the cold front blew in, by the time I got the fire out I had icicles hanging off my toes. I blame Algore.

Update: I'm still reading about why the Secret Service let that bozo throw two shoes at Dubya. The answer is simple, it's very bad publicity when the good guys cut loose with gunfire on someone armed with two shoes. Even worse publicity when the bozo has already thrown them. Can anyone imagine what the lefties would be saying if the bodyguards had cut loose a burst each with those little subguns? Now I wouldn't complain too much if overpenetrating rounds, plus misses and ricochets had knocked down a half dozen media types. Far as I'm concerned there ought to be a bounty on 'em, but the same people that are complaining about how he managed to fling both shoes would be having a cow. Each.

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