I sit here on the loveseat on a Monday night.  Dinner, compiled of Wifey’s delicious spaghetti complete with garlic bread and salad drenched in Italian dressing is over.

The laptop adorns my lap with the wireless mouse at my right.  My lower back is already feeling kind of sore based on the way I seem to be genetically predisposed to sit more on my lower back where a tramp stamp would go versus on my actual tuckus.

Sometimes when I sit here, I like to hang my arm over the armrest of the loveseat.  If I position it correctly, the pressure of my bicep against the armrest manages to cut off the circulation to the rest of my arm, thus rendering it all buzzy feeling down to the tips of my fingers.

Then, I take the arm up and try to type with it, rendering my typing on the QWERTY side of the keyboard to be more indicative of the fact that you’re reading the blog of a babbling idiot.

Just a little while ago, I went to boil some water for tea.  In the process of filling a small sauce pan with water and placing it on the back burner, I inadvertently turned the front burner on.  That’s the second time in a week that I’ve done that.

Yeah, I generally got nothin’ for the blog world today.

Earlier in Cubeville, I suffered an epiphany just before lunch which revealed at least four years of doing something wrong.  Certainly in the last four years that we’ve been doin’ it that way we weren’t severely impacted by what was going wrong.  At the same time, things would have been a hell of a lot easier if we had gotten a clue way back when.

In other news consider this.

You’re riding a horse.  There’s a lion to your left going just as fast as you are.  You’re being chased by a giraffe.

What do you do?

Get your drunk ass off the merry-go-round.