Dec 22, 2011

The joys of the season to you, Padraig

Are you naked? Have you painted yourself blue? Have you taken a wee nip to fortify yourself for a sunrise jig around the oak tree?

Me neither, and I suppose the Druidic recording angel has jotted down my apostasy. 

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(P.J. O'Rourke went to Ireland, thought about hitting the beaches, then decided, Naaaah, " No one wants to see an Irish girl in a bikini."  P.J. is rarely  full of it, but on this point he proves he never spent a couple of warm spring evenings in Galway City as the university colleens paraded.)

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A light dusting of snow comes with the solstice here. It will be gone shortly.  I again thank Al Gore for the localized global warming. By our usual northern-plains standards the winter has been tropical. It's pleasant, and I encourage one and all to continue venting fluorocarbons into the atmosphere.

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By the way, this solstice also begins 365-day countdown to the end of the world  according to the astronomical predictions of High Priest Kwaxaholemowthful. It mayant happen, but you still should double-check your bugout bag.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

If the world is going to end, why do we need a bugout bag? JAGSC

Jim said...

Good question. I was speaking for the solace of those who view their prep kits as a talisman, able to ward off all problems from the heartbreak of psoriasis to Armageddon. Especially if it contains bacon, a nine-volt battery, and fine steel wool.

True, however, that if The End turns out to be a collision with the invisible planet on the other side of the sun, the fire-making gear may be redundant.

:)

Tam said...

"It mayant happen..."

I am bleeding from my eyes. :p