Oh by the way, folks,
Today we celebrate the birthday of William Randolph Hearst, born in 1863. He was the Grandiose Patriarch of a newspaper publishing dynasty. His dynasty returned briefly to national attention when his idiot granddaughter Patty Hearst helped rob a bank.
Yesterday the road work north of my place appears to have quit coming farther south and something like it is now beginning a coupla miles farther north. So it looks like nothing much fun is coming my way for a while.
And elsewhere in the world, I hear they're now appointing Pope John Paul II to be the patron saint of ignoring problems until you die.
And the American Family Association is complaining that not discriminating against anybody, non-Christians or otherwise, constitutes discriminating against Christians.
And today I suppose it'll probably rain all day, which won't stop the world's extreme fringe religion spastics from doing all sorts of idiotic stuff.
Signs of life