I have such a desire to write, and yet lack an interesting topic upon which to apply eloquence. It might be described as writer's boredom; that choice of choosing what not to write about because it has already been inked at other sites much finer than my own. Or perhaps I am simply tired of listening to my own bitching, because I am tired of listening to everyone else bitch.
So, do me a favor, everyone. Stop bitching so I can bitch. Seriously, you're cramping my style.
Oh dear. The delicious smell of potatoes fried in butter, scrambled eggs, and toast is wafting it's way downstairs. Normally, I make myself a bowl of fruit with some granola, toast, coffee, and fiber (because I'm getting old). But Damn! The GirlFriend™'s breakfast is just making my stomach grumble in desire.
For the love of all that is Holy, or Unholy! When I call to cancel my service, and report I've already signed up with another company, would you please just shut the hell up and get my service with you canceled. That fact that for the 20 minutes (using up my minutes) of supposedly going through the various steps of canceling my service, you used high pressure sales tactics to try and get me to return back to you has ensured that I will not, in fact, be returning to you.
And that 20 minutes was after having put me on hold to switch me to another department.
And corporations wonder what the hell they did to earn the animosity of their customers.
Oh, and for the record, that is 20 minutes of perceived time, not actual time. I'm exaggerating. It's my blog, I can exaggerate if I want. If you don't like that, than what the hell are you doing reading my blog? Sheesh.
I suspect, with today being the first true computer/internet age administration, we will be experiencing occasional bouts of post dramatic tube blockage. My guess is almost half the country will be watching the inauguration by way of the internet.
My first experience with blockage? Comcast email is acting up.
Jeff Foxworthy on Minnesota :
If you consider it a sport to gather your food by drilling through 18 inches of ice and sitting there all day hoping that the food will swim by,
You might live in Minnesota.
If you're proud that your state makes the national news 96 nights a year because International Falls is the coldest spot in the nation,
You might live in Minnesota.
If you have ever refused to buy something because it's "too spendy",
You might live in Minnesota.
If your local Dairy Queen is closed from November through March,
You might live in Minnesota.
If someone in a store offers you assistance, and they don't work there,
You might live in Minnesota.
If your dad's suntan stops at a line curving around the middle of his forehead,
You might live in Minnesota.
If you have worn shorts and a parka at the same time,
You might live in Minnesota.
If your town has an equal number of bars and churches,
You might live in Minnesota.
If you know how to say... Wayzata... Mahtomedi... Cloquet... Edina... and Shakopee,
You might live in Minnesota.
If you think that ketchup is a little too spicy,
You might live in Minnesota.
If vacation means going "up north" for the weekend,
You might live in Minnesota.
You measure distance in hours,
You might live in Minnesota.
You know several people who have hit deer more than once,
You might live in Minnesota.
You often switch from "Heat" to "A/C" in the same day and back again,
You might live in Minnesota.
You can drive 65 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard without flinching,
You might live in Minnesota.
You see people wearing hunting clothes at social events,
You might live in Minnesota.
You install security lights on your house and garage and leave both unlocked,
You might live in Minnesota.
You think of the major food groups as beer, fish, and Venison,
You might live in Minnesota.
You carry jumper cables in your car and your girlfriend knows how to use them,
You might live in Minnesota.
There are 7 empty cars running in the parking lot at Mill's Fleet Farm at any given time,
You might live in Minnesota.
You design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit,
You might live in Minnesota.
Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow,
You might live in Minnesota.
You know all 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter, and -- of course -- road construction,
You might live in Minnesota.
You can identify a southern or eastern accent,
You might live in Minnesota.
Your idea of creative landscaping is a plastic deer next your blue spruce,
You might live in Minnesota.
If "Down South" to you means Iowa,
You might live in Minnesota.
You know "a brat" is something you eat,
You might live in Minnesota.
You find -10 degrees "a little chilly",
You might live in Minnesota.
For in the end we are but one nation. Not a nation of God; for God is many, as numerous as the minds of men, and as ephemeral and diffused as the mist on a morning pond. No, we are a single earthly nation of beings ignorant to our sentient connection, lashing out in powerless rage, languishing in the futility of existence, hoping against hope for heaven on earth while ignorant of it's lack of past, presence, or future; condemned to experience our base selves as we strive to achieve our potential.
I have to admit, it was not my plan to go over a week without posting. But, it is (or was) the holidays, and I was focused on family and work. Even my novel got the short shift this past week or more.
Anyhow, I am alive and well, still blogging from my basement, and in pajamas and a robe. Meanwhile, the Middle East is going to hell in a hand basket. Bush is becoming more irrelevant, and Barack Hussein Obama is by far the most popular president elect since Jesus.
Oh, wait.
Since sliced bread.
Well, whatever.
Anyway; yes I am still alive. However, I need to take a shower, and wash my robe/pjs.
Peace out, man.