The Old Perfessor, I mean, ranting crazy man
In Which Your Humble Blogger has some buttons, and sometimes people press them. You know?
Category: hatchet job
Dreaming of Midsummer
In Which Your Humble Blogger is grouchy today, and it’s probably best if I just draw the latch, sit by the fire, and spin.
Learning and Peaking
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In Which Your Humble Blogger wonders about the learning curve, going down, down down. And also remembers Peter Falk in Wings of Desire asking “Am I a better actor than I was twenty years ago?”
Making a case
In Which Your Humble Blogger should probably just be grateful that somebody else is carrying the books up the stairs.
Grrrrrrrr. Also, Gr.
In Which Your Humble Blogger gripes, like a big griping griper.
Hold me back, take away my library card.
In Which Your Humble Blogger lacks self-restraint, and seeks restraint elsewhere.
Not only uninterested, but actively avoiding interest
In Which Your Humble Blogger goes off on something, yah yah yah, probably not important, let’s just wait a bit and then change the subject.
Provincialism’s nondescript head
In Which Your Humble Blogger has one summer sport and half a winter sport, and one sport that is pretty much year-round, playing summer in each hemisphere, and that’s plenty for me. But hey, knock yourselves out, world! One Hundred Million Frenchmen can’t be wrong!
Fiction or Journalism?
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In Which Your Humble Blogger thinks there’s probably something funny in it, but can’t quite put the old proverbial on it. Oh, I know, it’s where people say things that aren’t true! That’s always funny.
Still squinting toward 2012
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In Which Your Humble Blogger was gearing up for some serious snark, but then thought, you know, been there, done that.