In Which Your Humble Blogger is happy to be alive, considering the alternatives, which is perhaps the point.
In Which Your Humble Blogger wanted to come up with a suitably alliterative alternative for this year, but what would it be?
In Which Your Humble Blogger acknowledges that people inclined to dislike the Old Hand would be put off by the grimaces and grins and constant interruption, but that’s not the guy we really hated in those meetings, was it?
In Which Your Humble Blogger does the equivalent of clicking the share button, only without the cats.
In Which Your Humble Blogger saw the phrase economic crisis in a blog post and was wondering about it.
In Which Your Humble Blogger maintains that there is something even more bullshit than the idea of judicial activism, and that’s pretty deep shit indeed.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is not a great communicator, because communicators are those star trek things that the flip phones are supposed to remind you of.
In Which Your Humble Blogger did, in fact, get a ketubah and a diploma and a paycheck, for which I am grateful, and I hope not smug.
In Which Your Humble Blogger does not include that clip of Mitt Romney pretending that one of the little old ladies goosed him.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is pretty sure this other MP was just stoned.