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this nice, unexpected warm spell came to an unsubtle end this afternoon. thunder in November... tornado warnings... the sound of torrents of rain beating down on the roof like a herd of elephants relieving themselves on a boxing ring (beat that, PercyByssheShelley). speaking of morons, oxy or otherwise... i was crouched behind a speckled and primered militia-style blazer while at a stoplight yesterday afternoon, loaded with a brand new snowblower and a no-necked head crowned with the usual baseball cap on the driver's side. standing stark white against the dirty chrome bumper was a sticker with the slogan, DEATH TO ALL FANATICS. given this pause to philosophize, it occurred to me... isn't that a fanatical statement? beware the hillbilly jihad, there, feller. hmm... jihad. i've got a personal one against fotolog, right now. zero support, and my password hasn't worked in over a month. admin, incognito. my camera's load-locked, too. my, but i'm thirsty, and restless... golfwidow, a lady of admirable tastes, made me all blushy with her beer review, and i've got Murphy's and SanMiguel in the boot wanting to go home with me. beer-drinking, manual-shifting, music-loving lasses with off-kilter senses of humor... they make life worth living. accepting applications. |
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