My Lovely Wife just called me to tell me she was eating pretzels.
And then she asked me if I wanted to hear her eat the pretzels.
I said yes.
And so she ate pretzels on the phone.
She then asked if I wanted her to save me some pretzels.
I said, “Just a few.”
She said, “I’ll save you lots.”
I don’t know why, but that just made my day.
These are actually from last week, but I had to save them to share with you, my patient and faithful readers (you little puffballs of glee, you).
Odysseus won the foot race. I have to say, the General is very fast on his feet. Something like fifty guys entered, and it wasn’t even close. You could tell that Odysseus was very pleased. He won a goat and named it Hermes. — Apparently, no one is allowed to eat Hermes.
He went on: “I mean, here we are, attacking Troy. — Building a wooden horse to attack Troy. Troy, Eurylochus! This is fucking Troy! We are fucking Ithacans!”
I think I would buy a t-shirt that said “We are fucking Ithacans!”
Under Odysseus. It’s where the all cool kids are hanging out.
For all those thronging masses ready for a cavalcade of material now that all that Month of Me silliness is over…
I tip my hat to you.
And… I humbly apologise.
For at this moment, Jason is buried under a large and varied mountain of work and will not be able to get things back up to speed with the alacrity to which he is accustomed.
So all I can ask is that you stay tuned.
And send cookies.
…
For the love of god — SEND COOKIES!
Well.
That was fun.
Move along now. Please allow the ushers to clean the aisles.
