I have to leave bright and early for the auto shop, which recently stopped offering an Ethernet connection for customers chillin’ in the lounge. I’m taking advantage of this turn of events by taking my laptop and working on the sort of stuff that e-mail and Web access only gets in the way of, i.e., writing. Which means not much of a blog today, but I snipped a few zinnias to put in this simple little vase:
Howell Raines always did get on my last damn nerve. Aaron Barnhart lays out only one reason.
When someone remakes “Charlotte’s Web” with an R rating, the writer will go by one name, and it will be Coozledad.
There’s news, there’s non-news, and then there are headlines like this: The Duchess of Cornwall plans to take up pilates or Tai Chi. Can’t you hardly wait to know the rest?!?
And while we’re reading the Telegraph’s health page, ohmygod: Boy, 12, dies from heart failure after using too much deodorant.
I swear, the Brits put out the best newspapers, page for page, in the free world. I can’t believe I get to read them every day through the magic of the internets. Cold comfort at a time when my retirement portfolio is withering like a beehive hairdo on a 90-degree day, but we take it where we can get it, right?
You all have a good Friday, and be kind to one another — we’re all going to be standing in the same bread line someday, and we’ll have plenty of time to fight then.