I’ve been receiving phone calls. None, unfortunately, have been porn. Nope. Everyone has been asking What’sup.
I’ve been telling the nada. What’s up with you. They haven’t really answered, at least to my satisfaction. Finally, one of my friends told me that driving by it is quite noticeable that no vehicles have graced my drive, so folks were wondering.
I thought about that and deemed it worthy of consideration. No tracks, no Ten Whiskey. I also considered how tired of telling people that hearing weather reports and weather reports, I thought it best to grocer up.
After thinking about all of this, last evening I fired up the truck and mad e plyenty of tracks. In and out. A donut or two, and all the snowy beauty disappeared, trampled and dirty looking.
The phone calls ceased.
So much for the snuggly middle management chair with the foot warmer.
I’m tickled by the Winter Games. The linked circles fritzed on opening day. The Jamaicans lost the runners for their sled – I wonder if they’ll get them back, or if they’ll be allowed to sled without?
Then there’s the picky news reporting things llike brown water in the hotels, no pillows and a zillion other things including terrorists.
And then, other than Jamaican Bob Sled, there is another favorite: Bermuda.
Team Bermuda wears Bermuda shorts, wins Opening Ceremonies
Well done, Sir. Very well done.
From the reaches,