on a log. That's me tonight. I'm not doing anything of any constructive nature. I'm going to finish off that six pack of Post Road Pumpkin Ale I bought last weekend, have a well done cheeseburger, hot off the grill, sit my ass in Dame Recliner and stare at what ever Mrs. SOG deems watchable on the idiot box. I'll pick up on the electrical work I'm doing tomorrow night after work and finish it up over the weekend. Then probably put the new light in the room under the stairs, sheet rock the ceiling and walls and put the new flooring in. But not tonight. Not tonight. I'd love to be able to spout something witty, or deep, or rail on about that effete moron in the White House that some people call the President, but there's nothing there. Frankly, I'm about sick of it all, anyway. I usually start to perk up a bit this time of year, it used to mean something special to me, but not these days, for some reason. I think I'm suffering from over exposure to what passes for humanity. I think I need to go someplace dark and quiet and secret for a while and sort myself out. But right now I'm going to go eat that cheeseburger and have another ale.

go ahead, make your day...



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