• Coffee and sweets

    Factoid number 1: There are more Dunkin Donuts per square mile in New Hampshire than good drivers (based on personal observation).
    Factoid number 2: There are more Starbucks per square mile in Florida than drivers under 65 (based on personal observation).
    Factoid number 3: The most typical Starbucks customer is an urban, liberal woman under 50 (based on statistical analysis).
    Factoid number 4: The most typical Dunkin Donuts customer is a rural/suburban, conservative man over 65 (based on statistical analysis).

    All of this clarifies why I feel a little emasculated when I order my Grande Cafe Vanilla Frappachino. However, I still have nary a clue how such a bastion of progressiveness thrives in the adoptive home of Jeb, in God’s waiting room no less!

  • We got your back man!

    In honor of the 109th Congress, we’ve been counting down the top ten threats to the institution of marriage in the free world. Next on the list is an insidious threat that resides in a dark place in all of our homes: laundry.

    Nothing gets my goat more than someone who puts his or her dirty laundry in the hamper inside out. As if putting away laundry isn’t bad enough, now I’ve got to turn it right side-out again? But even that is just a preview to the emotional explosion that erupts when I turn one of my wife’s shirts out, only to discover that it was right side in to begin with. I’m sure it’s a set up… to get me back for whining about the lack of “order” in our hamper.

  • I’ll bet you never knew a holiday could cause so many problems

    I’m so out of whack right now I almost don’t want to discuss it.

    I did say ALMOST, didn’t I?

    A mid-week holiday almost isn’t worth the trouble.

    I did say ALMOST, didn’t I?

    It all started on Sunday, just like the calendar says it should. Sunday morning went just as planned; I went to church, came home, took a nap. Then there was Sunday night. In a way it was Sunday night, but in another way it was Thursday night. I had to go to work the next morning, but there was only one working morning between me and a morning off. Monday was totally whack. Monday was equal parts Monday and Friday, and that’s the stuff of Rod Serling. Tuesday was nothing like Tuesday… more a bastard child of Saturday and Sunday (thanks in no small part to the Fourth of July Holiday). I was barely getting used to it being a kind of Saturday when I had to start thinking about getting to bed for work the next day. That’s just wrong. Everyone knows the Christian Sabbath is Sunday, and since I’m a good Christian (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) I almost had to take today off. Today is equal parts Wednesday and Monday (with just a splash of Sunday), with the forecast remaining the same (or at least similar) for tomorrow.

    There will be no reprieve until Friday, and even then it will feel a little like Wednesday… but who the heck cares… it’ll be Friday.

    On a side note: Word is pretty useless as a spell checker when a word is spelled correctly. Before you start slapping me around and calling me “Yogi,” lemme give you a hypothetical sentence and see if you can guess where and how I had made a mistake in this entry…

    “Go forth and have fun; for the Fourth is meant to be festive.”

    (Hint: the preceding sentence contains no intentional errors; grammar, spelling, punctuation, nor any of their close relatives.)