The snow came a day or two too soon. It’ll be melted by the time Wendy’s here. She’s NEVER seen snow.
This morning I read the execrable Ms. Suitt. Then I streaked on to formerly Nazi occupied France where I read Madame L’s Reading Cow, a palette cleanser of a blog if ever there was one. Gets the icky taste of trite right out your mind.
I like Halley. As a person.
Sutro the dog was a very fine dog except when she ate cat shit. I used to say, "I like Sutee as a dog, I just hate everything she stands for."
On another note, the Nation has an article about the economic history of rum, the essence of gloablization.
And finally, thanks to Madame L. for the Thanksgiving link. I never owned a Pontiac, really.
On Thanksgiving Day, many Native Americans
and their supporters gather at the top of Coles Hill, overlooking Plymouth Rock, for the
"National Day of Mourning."
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Stu Savory, Germany 11.23.05 at 11:20
Surely, Thanksgiving day is the one day a year when henpecked ‘Merkin guys are allowed to stuff their birds, whence the name ‘Thanksgiving’ ?
fp 11.23.05 at 11:25
hmmm… I hadn’t thought about it that way you dirty old man.