On my way to work this morning, rather than my usual routine of listening to a CD or the only decent sports talk show, I turned the "radio dial" to the local news/talk station to get some information about Isabel. So when I turned on my car to go lunch, this was the first sentence out of my radio, "So what I want to know is why aren't we making khakis now as good as we made in World War II?" I would pay $3 to figure out the context of that sentence. (The host changed the subject right afterward, alas.)
Crazy sports prognostication of the week. Yeah right on the northernmost team predicted to go to the Fort Worth Bowl. They are going to go to the Stay At Home And Bowl.
i sincerely do not know what you are doing here. are you lost? were you
looking for your delicate calico cat, and did you follow her up two flights of stairs
to this room? she is not here. she was here, yes. we gave her a warm bowl of milk, we talked with her about campaign finance reform for a time, and then she bid us good day. i believe she was
going to the post office two blocks down, but i don't quite recall.
for surely you did
not find your way from prinsiana, the least traveled site on
the internet. if you did, though, perhaps you are looking for humor. perhaps you are looking for profundity. perhaps you are looking for answers.
i'm sorry, but you shall go naught-for-three.
