Fridays should be brief. Short and sweet. They’re too short as it is: once the weekend arrives you’re counting down the minutes until it is over and you have to return to the so-called ‘real world.’
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Fridays should be brief. Short and sweet. They’re too short as it is: once the weekend arrives you’re counting down the minutes until it is over and you have to return to the so-called ‘real world.’
It’s now November. We are registered to vote. The autumn sun is a delight. The water heater still drips.
Just a breeze today. And just a breeze of a blog.
Today’s starting point? “Trust Me: Three Books With (In)credible Narrators”
Someone — meaning most of the commenters — does not understand the concept of ‘unreliable narrator.’
To keep things brief …
For some reason my phone thought that today was the beginning of daylight saving time and reset itself to an hour earlier; it’s off by a week. Luckily I was not fooled.
Hey, there were a couple college football upsets this weekend … not that it mattered to me and Ms. S.
No Roman numerals today, just little lists, some notes and reminders, and a day recapped before Ms. S. and I go shopping.
… the 150 calorie bun, the worst smell in the world, and thoughts on disgust.
Pudding, puddles, playwrights, and non-pilsners.