Two things that I've been told to blog:
1. So as I'm leaving the restaurant last night I realize that I can see my breath. For various reasons all having to do with Florida weather, this is something that I've grown unaccustomed to over the years, so I jumped happily and started singing, "I can see my breath! I can see my breath!" Apparently this sort of reaction is highly amusing to year round New Englanders who are rather less impressed by the seeing breath thingie.
(On a related note, I'm highly amused that the only responses to my "It's snowing posts!" came from Floridians and a editedTexan er displaced New Yorker living in the Woodlands. Note the unappreciative silence from north of the Mason-Dixon line or in other chilly places of the world.)
2. I should never be allowed to wear the long sleeved shirts of six foot, three inches tall men, warm though they may be, since, and we cannot get around this basic fact, their ends will flop from my hands. This is particularly dangerous and problematic when combined with watching the Invader Zim Christmas Special, since watching the Invader Zim Christmas Special forces me -- forces me, I'm telling you -- to start singing, "Doom, doom, doom," while flopping the dangling sleeves.
(If you missed the Christmas special, it features the cheery song of: "Bow down, bow down, before the power of Santa! Or be crushed, be crushed, by his jolly boots of doom!" which is a holiday message we can all support by this time of year.)
Heading off to do some exploration.
(On a related note, I'm highly amused that the only responses to my "It's snowing posts!" came from Floridians and a editedTexan er displaced New Yorker living in the Woodlands. Note the unappreciative silence from north of the Mason-Dixon line or in other chilly places of the world.)
2. I should never be allowed to wear the long sleeved shirts of six foot, three inches tall men, warm though they may be, since, and we cannot get around this basic fact, their ends will flop from my hands. This is particularly dangerous and problematic when combined with watching the Invader Zim Christmas Special, since watching the Invader Zim Christmas Special forces me -- forces me, I'm telling you -- to start singing, "Doom, doom, doom," while flopping the dangling sleeves.
(If you missed the Christmas special, it features the cheery song of: "Bow down, bow down, before the power of Santa! Or be crushed, be crushed, by his jolly boots of doom!" which is a holiday message we can all support by this time of year.)
Heading off to do some exploration.