Oh by the way, folks,
Today we celebrate the birthday of Marquis de Condorcet, born in 1743. He was a philosopher.
Yesterday nothing happened. The tron undergrounders didn't snag any gas lines.
This morning the Intermuck was bogging down horribly for a while, but it seems to be back up okay now.
The rest of the day appears to be promising to be okay. The chiropractor's gonna spend about 10 minutes doing fun things with my wobbly knee, and then I'll spend the rest of the day observing that he didn't accomplish anything.
Then in the evening there's gonna be another church pot luck dinner and the presento is gonna be Session Three of how Islam isn't as good as Christianity because their make-believe sky-zombie doesn't have three heads like ours does.
Happy Whatever Day It Is!
Signs of life