The following post may contain opinions, commentary, and semi-witty remarks which may or may not have accurately reflected my mood at the time the post was written. The post was prepared on machinery which may or may not have been in contact with nuts, gluten, polyunsaturated fats, corn oil, refined sugar, coffee, cheese, cheese food, and cheesy remarks. Some words may not be suitable for small children or progressives. Contains small parts which may pose a problem for those with an oral fixation. May or may not contain material suitable for framing. All content is the intellectual property of some guy named Thad (who, fortunately, doesn't know any lawyers, barristers, or solicitors. No, not that Thad, a different one). Any photos used by the writer of the post unless otherwise marked belong to the person who took the photo. Said person may (or may not) be me. If a photo has a "source" in the caption, go look thither, as you may (or may not) be closer to the actual photographer. All items herein are marked "Fair Use" and are solely educational in nature. (If I could make money doing this do you think I'd still be doing the old "nine to five"?) So on and so forth, the party of the first part makes no claim of accuracy in regards to the party of the tenth part, but may do so when pigs fly.
Alrighty then. Can you tell I wrote this on a Monday night. No?
Okay, I'll be explicit. I wrote this on a Monday night. In fact, that last sentence was typed into my computer on or about the 28th of November in the Year of Our Lord Two-Thousand and Sixteen at approximately 1904 Eastern Standard Time. In other words, Mickey's big hand was on the four and Mickey's little hand was on the seven. As it was dark and in this latitude the sun is above the horizon when Mickey's hands are positioned as in the aforementioned position, it was postmeridian, or afternoon. Actually it was evening, okay? Monday evening to be precise.
|Further proof (if such is required) that the 28th of November was a Monday.|
Ahem, alrighty then.
Monday, the day I wrote this, was the first day back at work after the Thanksgiving holiday, which for me was five days long. Not to get into a discussion of relativity but Monday and Tuesday of last week lasted approximately a century, whereas Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday lasted approximately five minutes. Roughly.
So I'm a bit crotchety (not cranky though, don't want to incur Joe's wrath) and out of sorts. I have every confidence that I will soon be over it.
On that note...
The Communists portrayed in the previous sketch have all expired, assumed room temperature, or otherwise departed this vale of tears... Yes, that's right boys and girls, Fidel, much like Francisco Franco, is still dead. And that's all I've got to say about that. (And yes, I know, Fidel Castro wasn't actually in that sketch. I claim artistic license. Or something.)
In summary, that was all rather a long way to say, "I've got nothing..."
Now, I'm off to get some sleep, I think I need it.