Today's post title is unrelated to today's post. I only liked the picture, and the boy enthusiastically told me that he tried marmalade for the first time while in Tahoe with his mother recently. I explained to him that is only what Americans eat when they wish to feel fancy, like the Brits, or young fans of Paddington Bear. He treats every sentence out of my mouth as the Facts Of God, so this sort of subject can be quite fun for me.
Nothing to tell here on this sunny Monday morning.
There was a three day weekend of illness - 72 hour virus of some sort. It seems to finally be leaving for good. I was able to go to the Pine Derby race this Saturday, but that's about it. The rest was spent in diarrheatic misery. My anus should have developed its own callouses by now, but no, it didn't. It went the opposite direction and now screams at every perceived or imagined slight of friction.
Let's not talk about the current end-state of my alimentary canal. The sun is out and the day seems pleasant enough.
We can do better than this.
Maybe we can't. I just spent a full minute in contemplation and no other subject seemed as potentially interesting as that of my ring stinger.
That can't be right. Let me try again.
Nope, apparently I am one of those poor souls that - once the anus has been mentioned in conversation - struggles to movement on.