Really enjoying the family blogging, what with the interior monologue on the debate, bitch slapping (!), exotic cuisine, and whatnot. Lying in bed with the "splint" (a sort of boot -- no, Donna, it doesn't have a high heel) on my foot to help the heel spur (doing so, so). And Celine Dion is indeed "fucking amazing," AK!
Saw my cousin Charles Evans again tonight and plan to pick him up for lunch at Our Best in Smithfield, Kentucky. He doesn't have a phone -- he says it is an "unnecessary inconvenience" -- so I'll take my chances on finding him at home one day next week. He lives somewhere between Sligo and the Ohio River, I think. (You laugh at the name Sligo? It's named after County Sligo, Ireland, the home of the poet W.B. Yeats, the originator of "slouching toward" that became a catchy allusion for TV talking heads and book titles by nobodies for a while.) As old-fashioned as "Sug" is, I think it'd be proper to get to his place by buckboard and a team of mules, but he actually drove off from the meeting tonight in a late-model pickup truck. I'll bet at home he even has electric lights!
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Please note that Celine Dion is "effing amazing" in a tongue-in-cheek, ironic manner. No one (sane) truly likes her.
Look at the video on AK's blog and I think you'll detect my irony. I don't know about my sanity -- or taste -- but her music is just divine (nudge! wink! wink! oh. and excuse me while I upchuck.).
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