Hey, looks like we’re getting ourselves into a new war, as President Obama is dispatching troops to Central Africa. I hope there’s oil or something there. Diamonds, maybe? Everybody loves diamonds. Not to worry, you lily-livered, bleeding heart (I think the hepatic disorder is what leads to cardiac hemorrhaging, but you should, of course, consult your physician) liberals. Obama is only sending 100 troops in an advisory position, and sending “advisors” into a war could never lead to anything unpleasant. Right?

The warm weather has finally broken (though, all things considered, it’s not exactly “cold” – yet), and today is supposed to be chilly and rainy, and very, very windy. We’re all kind of hoping for a bit of a break this year, what with last year being kind of a pain in the ass (particularly if you’re an aging baby-boomer who is beginning to discover all the nifty little places your body can feel pain – often for no apparent reason, and especially when the weather is cold and damp).

According to the woolly bear caterpillars (which were out in force last weekend; y’all know what woolly bears are, right? I mean, they aren’t a local or regional phenomenon are they? I’m really not very worldly – shocking, I know), it looks like we’re gonna have a short, harsh start, followed by a long, fairly mild stretch, and a short crappy spurt at the end. I guess I can live with that. And the woolly bear caterpillars are way more accurate than the National Weather Service or the Farmer’s Almanac (the Farmer’s Almanac weather predictions are kinda like a horoscope – vague enough so there’s something in there for everybody).

So, anyhow, I figure I have one more grass-cutting to do (assuming it’ll stop raining long enough), and then I can take the mower off the tractor and get ready for winter. Next Friday (barring the Rapture, of course) will be the one-year anniversary of when we closed on this house. So of course, we’re all moved in by now.

HA!

Private joke there.

Oh well, time to get going on whatever it is I’ll be doing today. Like watching last night’s Bill Maher – assuming I can stomach looking at and listening to that smarmy little piggish bag of douche, John Fund.

Or, I could regale you all with tales of the SU Alumni hoops scrimmage from last night, featuring players from 4 decades of SU and NBA history. And I’m sure nobody wants that.