Mmmmm, spam.
In Which Your Humble Blogger lets his cranky self out.
Category: navel gazing
Why was six afraid of seven?
In Which Your Humble Blogger sees a pattern.
Ten Good Years
In Which Your Humble Blogger talks a little about himself, and a little about you.
Optimism, Pessimism, Semism
In Which Your Humble Blogger is taken for a ride, up in the air on a big silver bird.
Why? And for what reason? And wherefore?
In Which Your Humble Blogger tells a joke. Not the funniest joke I’ve ever told in this Tohu Bohu, which would be Joke Number Thirty-Nine, but a good joke anyway. Although my Perfect Non-Reader likes the one about what baby potatoes wear to bed.
You neek, you
So, not to be all whatsit about this, because the Divine knows there is little in life more tedious than a blogger quoting other blogs in an attempt to restate what he’s been hocking about for months, particularly when the…
It’s what’s for breakfast
In Which Your Humble Blogger generally eats toast and butter, or sometimes a bowl of the grupp kind of cold cereal. And tea, of course. Tea, tea, tea.
Er, welcome?
In Which Your Humble Blogger lays down in the road.
Pirke Avot, verse fifteen: Fixed
In Which Your Humble Blogger doesn’t mean that it was broken at some point.
4.2 out of five, or maybe 1.3
In Which Your Humble Blogger would like to make it clear that when I was a student, I filled out the little bubbles with care, judgement, forethought, and a number two pencil.