In Which Your Humble Blogger is quite cranky, innit?
In Which Your Humble Blogger just posts a list.
In Which Your Humble Blogger has come to believe that electability is bunk.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is verklempt. you know? Tho' they could have called it nachas night.
In Which Your Humble Blogger could also probably talk about how the Republican Party jokes have aged, which… anyway.
In Which Your Humble Blogger should have added Buckwheat Zydeco's cover of “Walking to New Orleans“. Phooey.
In Which Your Humble Blogger and the Best Reader still sometimes dance in the kitchen, although the kids no longer make such a mess in the living room. It's the cat that does that now.
In Which Your Humble Blogger lives in hope, which is kind of an island in the rising ocean of shit.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is could also write a whole note about the tragic waste of Liz Shaw, but it would just be a global replace for Martha Jones (or Yaz).
In Which Your Humble Blogger also thinks it's a little odd that baseball teams don't all have their own team songs.
