...okay, it is Monday, which ostensibly means I've got to go to work. I was swilling coffee with soymilk, which I just learned on morning television doesn't do a single thing for my heart. I didn't think it did, but now I feel some gut-level disappointment that it doesn't. Damn!
The Sweetie and I, along with Alf the Wonder Beagle, did a long snowshoe yesterday. It was about 20 degrees and crystal high-altitude clear. Just when we started the trail, we came upon a guy harnessing a sled team. Alf the Wonder Beagle suddenly perked up...finally, she was going to fulfill her destiny as a Free Range Beagle! She would lead the team carrying the serum to plague-ridden Nome, have her own statue in Central Park in NYC and appear with Dr. Phil on Oprah! Tail wagging, she approached the team, who stared down at her like she was a bug. "Woof!" said one of the big sled dogs. Alf reconsidered for a moment, then decided to become an astronaut.
There was also one of those segments on the morning shows where a professional burglar breaks into a home to show the homeowners — who have agreed to be at dinner while the old homestead is being burgled — how easy it is to break into their home. Just once, I'd like to see one of the homeowners sneak back into the house and hide out in the bedroom with a Crimson Trace-equipped Sim-gun. Just when the pro buglar is starting his schtick about how easy locks are defeated, we viewers would see a little red dot on his chest, followed by two SPLATS.
That'd probably do more to reduce home burglaries than all the "plant plants with big thorns around your windows" advice in the world!
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