And so it begins

...or continues?  dunno.

Schools are closed.  Most offices are closed.  I have not gone into quarantine yet, but hope to be reporting strictly from the subterranean inonmyass headquarters in the very near future.

Went out to lunch yesterday.  Brave, I know. 

Despite a dearth of humans in the establishment, it was business as usual.  Except for one thing, the waiter's hair was twisted into a kind of jellyroll looking thing.  Highly unusual.  One of my companions (woman of Mexican heritage) asked if it could be filled it with chocolate.

Just prior:

Waiter (to same woman of Mexican heritage):  How about you?  Would you like a habanero margarita? 

Good times ahead, people. 

In order to fund the on-going operations of this blog and I am considering a charity event.

Similar to Walk-a-Thons and things of that nature, I am asking folks to dig deep and sponsor me on a per minute basis as I attempt to listen to Peter Criss "Out of Control" in its entirety.

You may sample here and I think you'll agree this is a respectable challenge. It will require much training and preparation. Previous recreational attempts to listen to tracks such as "By Myself" and "I Feel Like Letting Go" have resulted in dizziness, cramping and diarrhea.

http://www.rhapsody.com/petercriss/outofcontrol

Stay tuned for more details.

It was early morning Wednesday as I walked the dogs passed the Laundromat. Out front was a man best described as an old timer.

He took a look at Phy and said, "That's an ole timer, huh?"

"Today," I said to no one at all, "I will begin to blog again."

and when I did so, "again" rhymed with Rogaine.

Someone drove their car into the laundromat. Straight into that piece. Damn. They used actual 'police' tape to tape off the scene of the crime. I don't know when the last time 'police' tape was used up in my hood.

In unrelated news, two sets of handle bars were seen at the bus stop. Plaguing me, is the question of whether handle bars are properly referred to as 'sets'.

I discovered a foam pad (quite thick and cozy I might add) in the lightly wooded area adjacent to the Rite Aid building. It was accompanied by an ABC (Already Been Consumed) container of Chicken ala King.

The issue is not whether someone is temporarily camping next to Rite Aid on a permanent basis; but is it true that Chicken ala King actually exists and is not a figment of the collective imagination of the Price is Right.

I got my new drivers license in the mail yesterday. I also received a letter from Frontier Airlines with my old license that they apparently found. Some of you may mistakenly call that irony.

Some things about my new world:

The guy in the parking lot doesn't like me. I haven't even spoken to him, but he clearly does not like me. And it's not that I purposely don't speak to him, thus giving him reason to not like me. I can imagine him saying to his parking lot buddy, as I drive in, (nudge) "I don't like the looks of that guy." I haven't decided whether I am going to make an effort to establish peaceable relations or launch a pre-emptive strike.

There is a brown paper bag in the refrigerator. Written on it: Free - 1/2 Turkey.

I put the plastic knives in the dishwasher instead of throwing them away. I am expecting an angry mass email any day now.