Black Pants

Jackpot!
Finding a pair of pants that fit on the clearance rack!

him: Why do you have ten pairs of black pants
her: I don't.
him (holding up one pair): Yes you do. I see them all lined up right here.
her: They are not all black.
him: This looks like black. 
her:  That one is my skinny off-black.
him: What?
her: And this one is my day-before-my-period very-black
him: hmmm
her (pointing to pants one by one): This one is my very-important-business-meeting tweed-black,
sexy-out-to-dinner spandexy-black, nobody-will-see-me-at-the-grocery-store cotton-black . . .
him: ok, ok, nevermind

2012, The End. . . the sequel

Really, there was a movie out about 2012 - y'know the one with my dreamboat John Cusack, where the world ended by literally falling apart. And for awhile there, it was looking a bit like that from my perch here in the 'burbs.

But we muddled through and we sit in the middle of the road now, looking for the next apocalypse.

The truth is, every year is a whole series of tiny explosions, isn't it? That is what we call "life" in my world. Welcome to the year of superstition, gun fear, hyper-anti-bullying, litigation for blamelessness, and the coming of the end of the world . . . again and again.

In other words, welcome home.