In Which Your Humble Blogger knew Balak the son of Zippor, king of Moab. I worked with Balak the son of Zippor, king of Moab. Balak the son of Zippor, king of Moab, was a friend of mine. And you, Senator, are no Balak the son of Zippor, king of Moab. (Read it...)
In Which Your Humble Blogger would indeed be hhhhhhonored by your condescension, ma'am. (Read it...)
In Which Your Humble Blogger notes the date, or at least tomorrow's date. (Read it...)
In Which Your Humble Blogger observes differences. (Read it...)
In Which, once again, Your Humble Blogger offers advice to someone who needs it not, nor will ever hear it. (Read it...)
In Which Your Humble Blogger dashes off a note before dashing off to rehearsal. (Read it...)
In Which Your Humble Blogger almost forgets to mention that it's a really good book. (Read it...)
In Which Your Humble Blogger is pretty sure which book he read. (Read it...)
In Which Your Humble Blogger is against discounts, except for the part where things are cheaper. (Read it...)
In Which, having intended for some time to add to the monograph on tea preparation and consumption heretofore presented in this space, Your Humble Blogger at last is able to illustrate, graphically, a concept concerning the difference between, as an example, an ordinary breakfast blend, purchased in bulk, and the detritus that makes its way into a typical sachet. (Read it...)
In Which Your Humble Blogger sits on the ground and tells sad tales of the deaths of kings, and then has to have some help standing up again. (Read it...)
In Which Your Humble Blogger got shoes, you got shoes, all Gd's chillun got shoes, but we're still looking for the right hat. (Read it...)
The views expressed on these pages are mine alone, except where otherwise noted. No other person, institution or entity should be blamed for anything in this Tohu Bohu.
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