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Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Sick as the proverbial mutts.

That would be Louis and me. He's suffering from RSV and the pediatrician has put him on a breathing treatment. The good news is that he's still eating, but the bad news is he sounds miserable.

Me, I'm gobbling Sudafeds like they were Tictacs.

My God, it's full of stars...

For the love of Barbara Allen...

I mean, say what you will about the tenets of National Socialism, Dude, but at least it's an ethos.

Hey there, Mr. Policeman--you look bored and I sure am...

I am your man, and you are my woman, and let's go to that place of splendor in the grass, right here, right now...

Living in a fisheye lens stuck in the camera eye

I must not lose my temper. Temper-temper-temper is the bum-killer.

Because every time you socialists see something big, you want to nationalize it.

Japanese Sage Derby...Venezuelan Beaver Cheese...

What could possibly go wrong?

Translation: Which means those of you awaiting book reviews and responses requiring coherent thought are going to have to wait a wee bit longer.

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