I want to be able to wear long pants outdoors. I want to ride the bike without sticking to the inside of the helmet. Hot, sticky, windy day on the Tundra, and what's going on . . .
I like what Dan Currie has on the reinstating J. Todd Bertuzzi. For those who do not follow NHL hockey, and cannot make the distinction between physical play and felony assault, it will go right over their heads.
I tend to agree with Ann Althouse on the Daily Show becoming too bitter and so precious after Katrina. I used to be amused, especially when political humor was an equal-opportunity art, but now it's just so much piling on Bush, and there's no flair to it anymore. There's being funny, and then there's being catty.
My pile of music just passed the 30 gigabyte mark; on the order of 400 CDs. Yes, I have a backup drive. I've found real joy in making music CDs; I consider it the closest thing to an artistic pursuit I have. Wasn't that many years ago I thought using a PC to host, manage, and listen to music was silly. How silly was I?
Liverpool travel to White Hart Lane, without Fernando Morientes, and come away with a scoreless draw against a vastly improved Tottenham Hotspur. What's this? Everton crumble at the hand of Portsmouth at Goodison Park? My, my; this will not play well in D.C.
I went to the Wheels and Wings car show in Osceola yesterday, and just enjoyed it. Left to his own devices, my Mr. Hyde side would have painstakingly marched every inch and photographed most everything, but instead, I just putzed around with an old friend, and hung it up when we had enough sun. Personal favorites were all over the map, just like the car show itself; I dug a 1965 Impala SS Convertible, a perfect Mini Cooper, a Fiat 500 and a 1966 Ford GT40. After the 917K (the Holy Grail of race cars), a real GT40 is about as good as it gets.
I wish I had something weighty to write today, since it's the 11th of September, but for now, I'm going to carry on just like terrorists hope I do not.