I have about decided I feel slightly better this morning -- which is a good thing, as I had vivid (but unrecoverable) dreams all night, most of them involving a raw throat and difficulty breathing. And for that frisson of realism, I kept waking up...with a raw throat, gasping. I'm still exhausted.
You c'n keep your damn' frisson, by the way.
Update: OTOH, I can barely keep my eyes open. Oh joy.
Tam continues to lag my progress and is presently in the Plains of Despair, or perhaps crossing the Plateau of Miserableness.
And elsewhere, Indianapolis police and prosecutor are pretty darned sure the "mysterious" exploding house on the south side was, in fact, deliberate. It's a homicide investigation now. It still could be metal theft gone horribly wronger -- this would be the same general class of fool that's been stealing aluminum ($0.10) downspouts along with copper ($10.00 -- if Mr. Metal Salvage Man doesn't just rat you right out to the cops as a time-saver), after all. There are plenty of possibilities and homeowners are generally relived to know it's likely not shoddy gas plumbing.
Elsewhere still, Hostess, with its fine, responsible, Dem-leaning ownership, has been ordered to the mediation table. If they're broke, they'll have a chance to prove it and if they were lookin' to get out from under, why, that'll show up, too. I expect it'll be debatably in the middle, and thus the great love and friendship will continue -- and we'll still be getting no Twinkies while it drags on. I suspect they are burning the midnight ovens at Little Debbie, cutting molds and compounding recipes just outside the line marked "infringing." If they aren't, they should be.
(Update: They did so long ago, as a commenter pointed out. if "Cloud Cakes" are as good as Twinkies, why bother with Hostess ever again? Alas, the market was out; I got Nutty Bars instead, a childhood treat I had nearly forgotten.)
T. R. MCELROY'S STREAMLINED TELEGRAPH KEYS
2 months ago