Sunday, December 21, 2008

A generic “G’ Day.”

It’s cold out there; the sun is shinning out there; I’m listening to the heater fan turning in here – and hoping the cost of natural gas goes the same way as a barrel of oil. Fat chance, I’m sure.

Poker stinks. Made three crying calls yesterday and got whipped bad enough to justify the tears. I hate to play on saturdays.

Watched the Dallas game last night. The game itself was a good one. There was something about the game of note: They both did not lose. I have these unreasonable dislikes at times.

I’m a ‘Skins fan. These things come naturally. Still, Flacco came up with a good line – “I’m the last Quarterback to win in this place.”


And this morning The Fat Guy vented on an NFL Channels announcer. Right on, TFG. Prime Time was on the Disney Channel, or at least thought he was.

Now, if we can only get that team out of Baltimore. Maybe they’ll sneak away. And I’ll not care if it is midnight when it happens. As long as they not return, evermore.

From the reaches,

Ten Mile

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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