I
wonder if this is a gender thing.
Our main TV, in the living room, lost
its cable feed. The one in my office did not. Hmm.
So, last night I'm
troubleshooting it. Checking the connections, turning gizmos off and on,
changing the "source" settings, etc.
Convinced a rat in the wall
must've gnawed through a cable leading to the big screen, ready to call
Comcast and/or electrician techs.
Barb comes out, grabs a remote,
selects "03" . . . and fixes it with a muffled, "Mennnnnnn."
Well, it could've been a rat in the wall.
It could.
OK,
unless you are Orthodox Christian, Christmas is over now.
Stop the sickeningly sweet, let's-avoid-reality-while-we-teeter-on-the-fiscal-cliff "holiday" songs. I swear, if I even see Rudolph still nosing around, I just might put one between his eyes, just above that blasted nose.
Take down the
tree and lights. Keeping them up does not extend the holiday. Really.
Your bosses still expect you to show up, the bills still need to be paid
and the calendar moves inexorably toward 2013.
At least, take down the
lights on New Year's Day, people. Yeah, that includes you, Bucko, in the
next building over . . . yeah, Mr. I'll-Keep-My-Lights-Up-through-Independence-Day,
I'm talking to you.
Oh, and letting your pit bull crap on your
third-floor patio does not qualify as "letting the dog out." And kicking Fido's leavings off the patio is not "picking up after your pet," as the HOA requires.
Guess what you are going to find at your door, inside a flaming Christmas stocking? Hint: a lump, but not of coal.
Bah. Humbug.
:)
