Between all the personal loss, grief, and the assorted stress and strife going around our little community of sublime silliness, I see it as my humble duty to keep it weird at night.  Of course, presuming that things go according to plan, I should be experiencing my first gliberati meet-up this evening, which fills me with that existential dread that only H.P. Lovecraft, or, Erma Bombeck, understood.  BTW—if you’re reading this as soon as it goes up, just know I’m so very, very disappointed in you.  To wit:

 

I’m hoping that their form of rebellion is to go extinct.  Please, do get on that ASAP.

Not a 1A question, but, could they be successfully sued if someone gets ill from taking any advice they offer?

The newest, exciting chapter in:  Tales from the Room Temperature Challenge.  I love a happy ending; don’t you?

Note to service industry people:  if you don’t like cops, refusing to serve them is only gonna make the cop love-fest even worse.  And, this is coming from a first responder, who gets your gripe (sort of).  Also, why does it seem to always be the cops’ wives that start the complaining when this stuff happens?

I have to admit, I’m somewhat surprise that the twerp had it in him.  Still, you should be careful on whom you bet you money (ahem…).

I keep trying to come up with questions for the glibs, but, do any of you have questions?  For me.  For others here?  Yeah, I’m putting this of onto you.

OK, maybe those service industry folks are on to something.  Good thing it’s Winter.  That was a ‘snowflake’ joke.

I think I see how all this police mishegoss gets started in the first place.  OK, not exactly a police matter, so much as a school system matter.  Also, am I the only one surprised to see that Jazz isn’t jazzing himself over this?

For my rockers and metal-heads.  For the ladies (How you doin’?)  The rest of you will have to fend for yourselves.

 

You know the drill—comment, link, snark; get weird with it.  Depending on what the glib-up is like, I figure I’ll show up after this posts (::crosses fingers::).  Do me proud, peeps.