I haven't been in an Internet mood lately, but I am doing fine. Very fine. Geaux Saints!

I'm sitting in bed drinking beer and listening to Johnny Cash sing "Sunday Morning Coming Down" on repeat. The image is probably somewhat spoiled by the fact that the beer is Blue Moon Harvest Pumpkin Ale. I doubt that was the kind Johnny had for breakfast.

( Sunday Morning Coming Down )

Thank you to whoever sent me this lovely shirt, if you're reading!


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I'm going to keep this default icon until after the Super Bowl, since WE ARE STILL THE REIGNING WORLD CHAMPIONS. After that, though, I might get a new one. How much would y'all hate me if you had to look at this on your FL every day, with maybe a little Trollface shopped in behind him?


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One of my recent really bad habits is just not wanting to bother to eat. Sometimes I do the right thing and have an Ensure or a smoothie. Sometimes, though, I do the Very Wrong Thing and look at disgusting material to kill my appetite entirely. Blood and guts don't do it for me; they're interesting but not sickening. What grosses me out most is ( Read more... )

More than six months after the worst oil spill in U.S. history, Grand Isle is still struggling. Residents are sick, physically and emotionally. Many are devastated financially. They say the place they call home and its prized resources have been tainted and tarnished. And more painfully, they think the world has forgotten them.Please, please read ( Read more... )

I should get out of the house. At least into the backyard. Plant the foxgloves. My shoulder still hurts, but not as bad ( Read more... )

Can't sleep. Last Saturday I stayed up drinking Diet Coke until 3:00 AM, then remembered that I wanted to be up for the Saints game at noon. And you see where that got us. Maybe I just won't sleep. Maybe I'll read another dumb but entertaining "romantic suspense" novel by Beverly Barton, my latest improvement-free pleasure ( Read more... )

This will have to be quick, as I can't find my computer power cord and I'm losing the battery. The problem could likely be solved by the simple expedient of unpacking, but there are few things I hate more than unpacking from a really good trip. It sometimes takes me as long as two or three weeks to get it completely done. Still, I probably would ( Read more... )

I've just learned that my favorite Saint ever*, Norman Hand, was found dead at his South Carolina home this morning. He was only 37. Football players may get rich, but the sport is so very hard on their bodies, especially for the great big guys. Big Norman was one of the biggest guys we ever had ( Read more... )