THE DAMPENING

Sometimes you can know someone on Facebook for eight years before they casually say something so staggeringly Christian that you sit back, stunned, and wonder what the heck. Which someone did yesterday. It was not a post I was tagged in, fourteen others were, but nevertheless. He added to the effect by in response to another person's comment giving an opinion that was even more berserk. Exceedingly Christian. As well as likely to sit well with both the far right and the far left. Intolerably bigoted.
So I unfriended him.

Faugh.

Where are the lions when you need them?


One expects a certain amount of goobusness from people older than Grampa Simpson, and while I myself am approaching that status, talking fondly of the age when we all tied onions to our belts (as was the syle at the time), but good lord. Worst fossil in the retirement home. Occasionally someone has to be kicked off the Island with very great force.
Pitchforked into the pit of worms and left to dry in the hot sun.

There's repulsive, and then there's repulsive.

From a reasonably educated and well-read person I expected far, far better. Were he a coworker I would report him to HR and if necessary quit the company in protest.



In other news, we're set to be inundated with one tenth of an inch of rain per hour over the next several days. Oh no what shall we do? This is a disaster of biblical proportions. Sidewalks damp, soggy dogs, slickety and minor wetness. Call out the Feds.

Blanketed with dampness. Several days.
One tenth of an inch per hour.
Or considerably less.


I was planning to work on my tan.



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