1) I helped my father start a blog last weekend. In just over a week he has posted 22 times. Who does that?
2) Do NOT spend money seeing "The Strangers." It is frightening at points, but not particularly good.
3) DO spend money seeing WALL-E. It
is particularly good.
4) The 4th is never complete unless i have ash and cinders from fireworks rain down on me... always makes me feel like a patriot. (What?)
5) That is
patriot... not
patriot.... (shudder).
6) Sissy or not, i am seriously considering getting a scooter. 130 MPG? That's what I thought...
7) Saturday night i was driving down 65 at 2am on my way 'home' after seeing a movie, and in my rear-view i thought i saw a bus. I thought that was odd, since i believe buses stop around midnight. The thing was barreling down on my in the slow lane... so as he approached, i moved over to the right. When he passed me, you know who it was? A Pittsburgh Post-Gazette delivery truck. A big, solid, mack-truck type, doing about 70 on the Ohio River Boulevard. My question is this... Who is it that so desperately needs the PG by 3am that the truck would have to drive like that? At every red light on 65 I thought the truck was going to burn rubber trying to come to a stop.
I guess there must have been someone in Emsworth, or Ambridge or (God forbid) Ohio who was sitting up in dire need of thier Sunday Post-Gazette Fix? I imagine an old woman, sitting on her porch in a rocking chair... she is muttering nonesense... her grown children and small grandchildren standing in side the screen door looking helplessly at her... her duaghter holding back tears. The woman sits there, rocking back and forth, muttering and weaving an imaginary basket...
...then, off in the distance is a rubmling... quiet at first, then growing steadily louder... lights appear over the horizon... the woman keeps rockign but the family becomes a little more alert in the doorway... could it be? could it be?
YES! The truck pulls up, the green lettering on the side unmistakable even in the dark Ohio night... the driver hops out, runs to the back of the truck, opens the door, grabs a copy of the Sunday morning PG and runs it up on the porch... as he hands it to the woman, she looks at it, and slowly looks up at him... and smiles.
The family comes out... a child yells "GRAMMA'S BACK!"... and the delivery guy walks down the steps to his truck, turns, tips his hat and says "all in a night's work."
I smell a commercial.
