A few weeks ago, I disappeared for a family emergency and the Middle East exploded. This weekend, I took off for a few days of vacation and came back to see things had gotten even crazier.
The first sign of trouble came when I got off my plane in Newark last night and discovered it was a balmy 98 degrees. 98 degrees at 11pm. Apparently, somebody set fire to the entire East Coast.
Then, a quick scan of the news revealed that not one, but two different, batshit-crazy dictators -- Fidel Castro and Mel Gibson -- had both been forced from power. I haven't seen freedom on the march like this since the heady days of 1989, when both the Berlin Wall and the band Berlin were mercifully destroyed.
But I knew things had really gotten out of hand when I saw this piece in the Onion.
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9 comments:
Now that is some comedy!
Glad you're back. So very glad. Don't ever leave again, unless you find it necessary to grant yourself the power to leave again.
Good to see you back. My drinking was starting to spiral out of control again, what with bob, thrillhous and others acting as enablers.
Glad to be back. But Smitty, I drank somewhere in the neighborhood of 18 beers on Sunday. If you're looking for a non-enabler, you've come to the wrong place.
Otto-
If you go away one more time, I'm thinking the Rapture happens.
Or Blondie re-forms, re-makes Rapture, and then Swiffer uses it in another commercial.
Or maybe nothing happens at all. I'm not committing one way or the other.
I'm scared myself, Mike. I have a trip to the West Coast planned in a couple weeks, so be sure to get your affairs in order.
Maybe I should return Jesus's calls.
I remember years ago in late July getting on a plane in San Diego in the middle of the afternoon during a "heat wave" (meaning in the 80s for them), flying home to Westchester and getting off the plane on the tarmac at 11:00 p.m. and feeling like somebody just slapped a hot towel on my face.
Ugh.
Furious-
I'm just amazed that you had the stones to fly from SD into Westchester Airport.
I'm not sure I'd feel safe jumping from a 5 foot ladder into Westchester Airport.
Back in 1999, Mrs. G and I flew from Cincinnati, where temperatures hovered near 100 degrees, to NYC, where temperatures topped 100 degrees, and then to Myrtle Beach, where temperatures were in the high 90s. It was insane.
Not that we were trying to escape the heat, necessarily (we just had free places to stay and a ride back from South Carolina), but you'd think our itinerary would've done something to help us beat the heat. Shesh.
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