And then nothing turned itself inside-out*
This image has absolutely nothing to do with anything in this post. It’ s only here to annoy Ann Althouse.
I got nothing. But then Wednesdays are like that for me for some reason.
But I am tired of the antics of Hillary Clinton and her campaign.
I even more tired on some of the Democratic leaning blogs that are totally and inexplicably in the bag for Clinton, and believe me, Obama was nowhere near my first choice. Or my second choice, for that matter. I can understand some people’s (read: young peoples) passion for Obama, but Hillary Clintonphilia leaves me scratching my head.
I don’t care about todays polls because they don’t mean anything this early. The polls next week won’t be any more illuminating.
The Reverend Wright controversy is over. Get over it. That coon dog won’t hunt.
The Ole Perfesser is being stupid again, but that’s not news.
Let’s see, what else?
I don’t watch BSG so I can’t say how wicked cool it is.
I never saw an episode of The Wire.
I’ve never seen an episode of the American version of The Office, and only the first two episodes of the BBC version. Hell, I’ve only seen the first three episodes of the first season The Sopranos. and the first episode of Six Feet Under. TV takes up too much time. I don’t hate it, sneer at the idea of it, or think that it degrades the culture and turns us into slack-jawed drooling idiots; that’s what NASCAR is for. TV just takes up too much time.
I’m reading Mary Roach’s Stiff, a book I started to read several years ago but was rudely interrupted when Beckham ate it. I’m also reading AM Homes’ Music for Torching and Stephen Jay Gould’s The Richness of Life. It’s fairly easy to separate the three of them while reading them concurrently, as you might expect
So, just like a Seinfeld episode, there are no hugs and no lessons at the end.