and I'm sitting here swathed in the Bathrobe of Perfect Wisdom with a bag of chips and Dean's French Onion dip. I should be eating something healthy, and eventually I will.
Christmas music on the PA at Homeland tonight... Harry Connick, Jr., I think. It wasn't very appealing. I'll skip the 'Silent Night' story since I've already told it a dozen times, but I just don't get any warm fuzzy feeling from Christmas music. It depresses the hell out of me.
I read somewhere that Jesus was actually born in August. They moved his birthday celebration to December because that's when the pagans were already crowding into the shopping malls. Back in those days, an iPod was the size of a refrigerator and you had to have oxen pull it along while you listened to it.
I would like to know why, by federal law, I'm required to have a low-flush toilet that moves less water than an aquarium pump while Iron Starr Bar-B-Q is allowed to have toilets that could suck down a bowling ball.
"Damn! That's the third time since Friday I've had a customer walk on a tab! How come I never see them leave?"
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