Since it turned out OK -- i.e. I didn't die in the chair -- I can now report that my time off last week was for oral surgery. Yikes. I think perhaps we can use the photo to scare liberals and nervous children. It's not blurry, by the way -- that's the way I really look.
I'm taking a few days off for a little minor repair work on the battered old body. Back Monday.
In case you thought you'd heard of every crime in the book:
The owners of a Henryville funeral home are accused of selling a family phony ashes, telling them they were of their dead pet.
State police had been investigating Richard D. Pyke, 42, and his son, Richard "Bradley" Pyke, 19, in connection with suspected illegal activity at the R.D. Pyke Funeral Home, and had seized the bodies of several pets awaiting cremation on Tuesday.
I've been poor. There were no food stamps when I was growing up, but our family qualified for the government commodities program. I remember standing in line with my parents waiting to pick up staples such as potatoes and powdered milk and giant blocks of orange-looking cheese. I guess that qualifies me to have a skeptical attitude about this:
I'll just say what I did in an earlier post about gourmet coffee -- throw in a Hooter's-costumed woman who will rub my feet, and I might go $7.50:
Newsweek's for sale. What would you pay for it?
I love my coffee, but this is just stupid:
How much are you willing to pay for a cup of joe?
A gourmet coffee chain is betting you'll pay up to $12 for a fine brew.
Cafe Grumpy has Brooklyn locations in Greenpoint and Park Slope. It also has a Manhattan location in Chelsea.
I know liberals are supposed to be bleeding hearts who waste foolish time and energy on behalf of the underdogs of the world, but this is ridiculous:
In one of his last public speeches before retiring, Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens on Monday bypassed talk of the court's deep ideological divide and the battle to replace him and instead talked to a Chicago legal group about his beloved Cubs.
Remember that scene in "Stand By Me" where the boys are walking across a railroad trestle and you just know a train is going to come while they're right in the middle of it and sure enough one does show up and your heart sort of leaps up in your throat? Or maybe it's just me. I actually lived as a kid in a house by the railroad tracks (I 'll leave it for others to say on which side of the tracks), so I grew up very aware of how dangerous it was to mess around trains and with a mother and father who constantly harped on the danger.
Lordy, how time flies:
DEPENDING on which side you were on, Saigon either fell on April 30, 1975, or it was liberated. Inside Vietnam, the day is marked as Liberation Day — but outside, among the Vietnamese refugees, it is called Deep Resentment Day. (The resentment is not just over losing a war, but also a country.)
All those lives wasted, pledged to a promise we had no intention of keeping. "Deep resentment" hardly covers it.
No kidding:
They appear cute and cuddly, but the Department of Natural Resources says the raccoon is turning into a household problem in urban areas around the country and here locally.
[. . .]
That's because it's breeding season. Siri says female raccoons tear into attics to have their young, looking for just about any place to call home — like attics, chimneys and many other dark spaces.
