Brief Update

The Boy is now officially a sleepover-addicted fool.  Didn't get home from his first one until 8 p.m. Saturday night, and has been invited to another one this Friday, post Trick-or-Treating. 

Our last fall baseball game was last night, and I will miss those goofy boys.  That was an awesome team.

If you aren't watching season 4 of Supernatural, a pox upon you.  That is all.

Just when I think that I can no longer be appalled by how self-deluded and avaricious people can be, something like this comes along, smacks me in the head, and makes me despair for all of humanity.  I mean, shouldn't someone be getting this woman Paxil instead of a book contract?  Really?

Class wars, elitism, and the never-ending charges thereof are sucking the very marrow from my bones.  Part of the reason Hublet and I stay firmly ensconced in the countryside is because I still live in fear of being stuck at another dinner party where a friend could pipe up, straight-faced, and declare that "We are the intellectual elites!"  God help us all if that's the case. Yes, that really did happen, and yes, I was completely mortified. Said friend capped off the evening by calling her (then)-husband an ass in front of the assembled company.  Yeah.  Give me farmers, cows and guns any day.