MY DEMENTED DIARY

Oh by the way, folks, oldest entries are deleted to keep the total entry count at 666 because that number is sure to rile up somebody who sorely needs it.

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My Biography

My Beliefs

My more serious diary:
A Walk Through the
Valley of the Shadow

Today we wish a fond Happy Birthday to Travis Tritt.

Last night we dined out at a hoity-toit Italian place, and the linguini was served with a large spoon for twirling it in, as is canonically valid for hoity-toit Italian places.

I just happened to recall from childhood that some cousins of mine (technically my father's cousins but they're a bit younger than me because of generation-jog) had spent a buncha time in England hobnobbing with the hoity-toit crowd.

They used to tell about how low-class people, middle-class people, and high-class people eat spaghetti. Low-class people stick one end in their mouth and slurp. Middle-class people cut it up in pieces. High-class people twirl it in their spoon.

Well, I've been middle-class all my life. So last night I tried to be high-class but ended up looking more like low-class. The bundle of spoon-twirled linguini on the fork simply refused to co-operate.

I guess I'm just not destined to be high-class. Oh well, champagne and caviar for breakfast every day wouldn't appeal to me much anyhow.

But anyhow, the Wondrous Weather Website is predicting another pleasantly cool day of gentle (35-40 mph) spring breezes.

Happy Blowing Away!

OrneryPest